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egypt-第20部分
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expanse of pasture and tillage。 We had seen it from a great distance;
so pure and clear is the air; and in approaching it we perceive that
it is colossal; and in relief on its lintel is designed a globe with
two long wings outspread symmetrically。
It behoves us now to make obeisance with almost religious reverence;
for this winged disc is a symbol which gives at length an indication
of the place immediate and absolute。 It is Egypt; the countryEgypt;
our ancient mother。 And there before us must once have stood a temple
reverenced of the people; or some great vanished town; its fragments
of columns and sculptured capitals are strewn about in the fields of
lucerne。 How inexplicable it seems that this land of ancient
splendours; which never ceased indeed to be nutritive and prodigiously
fertile; should have returned; for some hundreds of years now; to the
humble pastoral life of the peasants。
Through the green crops and the assembled herds our pathway seems to
lead to a kind of hill rising alone in the midst of the plainsa hill
which is neither of the same colour nor the same nature as the
mountains of the surrounding deserts。 Behind us the portico recedes
little by little in the distance; its tall imposing silhouette; as
mournful and solitary; throws an infinite sadness on this sea of
meadows; which spread their peace where once was a centre of
magnificence。
The wind now rises in sharp; lashing guststhe wind of Egypt that
never seems to fall; and is bitter and wintry for all the burning of
the sun。 The growing corn bends before it; showing the gloss of its
young quivering leaves; and the herded beasts move close to one
another and turn their backs to the squall。
As we draw nearer to this singular hill it is revealed as a mass of
ruins。 And the ruins are all of a kind; of a brownish…red。 They are
the remains of the colonial towns of the Romans; which subsisted here
for some two or three hundred years (an almost negligible moment of
time in the long history of Egypt); and then fell to pieces; to become
in time mere shapeless mounds on the fertile margins of the Nile and
sometimes even in the submerging sands。
A heap of little reddish bricks that once were fashioned into houses;
a heap of broken jars or amphoraemyriads of themthat served to
carry the water from the old nourishing river; and the remains of
walls; repaired at diverse epochs; where stones inscribed with
hieroglyphs lie upside down against fragments of Grecian obelisks or
Coptic sculptures or Roman capitals。 In our countries; where the past
is of yesterday; we have nothing resembling such a chaos of dead
things。
Nowadays the sanctuary is reached through a large cutting in this hill
of ruins; incredible heaps of bricks and broken pottery enclose it on
all sides like a jealous rampart。 Until recently indeed they covered
it almost to its roof。 From the very first its appearance is
disconcerting: it is so grand; so austere and gloomy。 A strange
dwelling; to be sure; for the Goddess of Love and Joy。 It seems more
fit to be the home of the Prince of Darkness and of Death。 A severe
doorway; built of gigantic stones and surmounted by a winged disc;
opens on to an asylum of religious mystery; on to depths where massive
columns disappear in the darkness of deep night。
Immediately on entering there is a coolness and a resonance as of a
sepulchre。 First; the pronaos; where we still see clearly; between
pillars carved with hieroglyphs。 Were it not for the large human faces
which serve for the capitals of the columns; and are the image of the
lovely Hathor; the goddess of the place; this temple of the decadent
epoch would scarcely differ from those built in this country two
thousand years before。 It has the same square massiveness。
And in the dark blue ceilings there are the same frescoes; filled with
stars; with the signs of the Zodiac; and series of winged discs; in
bas…relief on the walls; the same multitudinous crowd of people who
gesticulate and make signs to one another with their handseternally
the same mysterious signs; repeated to infinity; everywherein the
palaces; the hypogea; the syringes; and on the sarcophagi and papyri
of the mummies。
The Memphite and Theban temples; which preceded this by so many
centuries; and far surpassed it in grandeur; have all lost; in
consequence of the falling of the enormous granites of their roofs;
their cherished gloom; and; what is the same thing; their religious
mystery。 But in the temple of the lovely Hathor; on the contrary;
except for some figures mutilated by the hammers of Christians or
Moslems; everything has remained intact; and the lofty ceilings still
throw their fearsome shadows。
The gloom deepens in the hypostyle which follows the pronaos。 Then
come; one after another; two halls of increasing holiness; where the
daylight enters regretfully through narrow loopholes; barely lighting
the superposed rows of innumerable figures that gesticulate on the
walls。 And then; after other majestic corridors; we reach the heart of
this heap of terrible stones; the holy of holies; enveloped in deep
gloom。 The hieroglyphic inscriptions name this place the 〃Hall of
Mystery〃 and formerly the high priest /alone; and he only once in each
year/; had the right to enter it for the performance of some now
unknown rites。
The 〃Hall of Mystery〃 is empty to…day; despoiled long since of the
emblems of gold and precious stones that once filled it。 The meagre
little flames of the candles we have lit scarcely pierce the darkness
which thickens over our heads towards the granite ceilings; at the
most they only allow us to distinguish on the walls of the vast
rectangular cavern the serried ranks of figures who exchange among
themselves their disconcerting mute conversations。
Towards the end of the ancient and at the beginning of the Christian
era; Egypt; as we know; still exercised such a fascination over the
world; by its ancestral prestige; by the memory of its dominating
past; and the sovereign permanence of its ruins; that it imposed its
gods upon its conquerors; its handwriting; its architecture; nay; even
its religious rites and its mummies。 The Ptolemies built temples here;
which reproduce those of Thebes and Abydos。 Even the Romans; although
they had already discovered the /vault/; followed here the primitive
models; and continued those granite ceilings; made of monstrous slabs;
placed flat; like our beams。 And so this temple of Hathor; built
though it was in the time of Cleopatra and Augustus; on a site
venerable in the oldest antiquity; recalls at first sight some
conception of the Ramses。
If; however; you examine it more closely; there appears; particularly
in the thousands of figures in bas…relief; a considerable divergence。
The poses are the same indeed; and so too are the traditional
gestures。 But the exquisite grace of line is gone; as well as the
hieratic calm of the expressions and the smiles。 In the Egyptian art
of the best periods the slender figures are as pure as the flowers
they hold in their hands; their muscles may be indicated in a precise
and skilful manner; but they remain; for all that; immaterial。 The god
Amen himself; the procreator; drawn often with an absolute crudity;
would seem chaste compared with the hosts of this temple。 For here; on
the contrary; the figures might be those of living people; palpitating
and voluptuous; who had posed themselves for sport in these
consecrated attitudes。 The throat of the beautiful goddess; her hips;
her unveiled nakedness; are portrayed with a searching and lingering
realism; the flesh seems almost to quiver。 She and her spouse; the
beautiful Horus; son of Iris; contemplate each other; naked; one
before the other; and their laughing eyes are intoxicated with love。
Around the holy of holies is a number of halls; in deep shadow and
massive as so many fortresses。 They were used formerly for mysterious
and complicated rites; and in them; as everywhere else; there is no
corner of the wall but is overloaded with figures and hieroglyphs。
Bats are asleep in the blue ceilings; where the winged discs; painted
in fresco; look like flights of birds; and the hornets of the
neighbouring fields have built their nests there in hundreds; so that
they hang like stalactites。
Several staircases lead to the vast terraces formed by the great roofs
of the templestaircases narrow; stifling and dimly lighted by
loopholes that reveal the heart…breaking thickness of the walls。 And
here again are the inevitable rows of figures; carved on all the
walls; in the same familiar attitudes; they mount with us as we
ascend; making all the time the self…same signs one to another。
As we emerge on to the roofs; bathed now in Egyptian sunlight and
swept by a cold and bitter wind; we are greeted by a noise as of an
aviary。 It is the kingdom of the sparrows; who have built their
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