egypt- 第32部分

the　sacred　islets。　The　sanctuary　of　Isiswhich　was　enthroned　for

thousands　of　years　on　the　summit　of　a　hill；　crowded　with　temples　and

colonnades　and　statuesstill　half　emerges；　but　it　is　alone　and　will

soon　go　the　way　of　the　others；　There　it　is；　beyond；　like　a　great　rock；

at　this　hour　in　which　the　night　begins　to　obscure　everything。



Nowhere　but　in　Upper　Egypt　have　the　winter　nights　these　transparencies

of　absolute　emptiness　nor　these　sinister　colourings。　As　the　light

gradually　fails；　the　sky　passes　from　copper　to　bronze；　but　remains

always　metallic。　The　zenith　becomes　brownish　like　a　brazen　shield；

while　the　setting　sun　alone　retains　its　yellow　colour；　growing　slowly

paler　till　it　is　almost　of　the　whiteness　of　latten；　and；　above；　the

mountains　of　the　desert　edge　their　sharp　outlines　with　a　tint　of　burnt

sienna。　To…night　a　freezing　wind　blows　fiercely　in　our　faces。　To　the

continual　chant　of　the　rowers　we　pass　slowly　over　the　artificial　lake；

which　is　upheld　as　it　were　in　the　air　by　the　English　masonry；

invisible　now　in　the　distance；　but　divined　nevertheless　and　revolting。

A　sacrilegious　lake　one　might　call　it；　since　it　hides　beneath　its

troubled　waters　ruins　beyond　all　price；　temples　of　the　gods　of　Egypt；

churches　of　the　first　centuries　of　Christianity；　obelisks；

inscriptions　and　emblems。　It　is　over　these　things　that　we　now　pass；

while　the　spray　splashes　in　our　faces；　and　the　foam　of　a　thousand

angry　little　billows。



We　draw　near　to　what　was　once　the　holy　isle。　In　places　dying　palm…

trees；　whose　long　trunks　are　to…day　under　water；　still　show　their

moistened　plumes　and　give　an　appearance　of　inundation；　almost　of

cataclysm。



Before　coming　to　the　sanctuary　of　Isis；　we　touch　at　the　kiosk　of

Philae；　which　has　been　reproduced　in　the　pictures　of　every　age；　and　is

as　celebrated　even　as　the　Sphinx　and　the　pyramids。　It　used　to　stand　on

a　pedestal　of　high　rocks；　and　around　it　the　date…trees　swayed　their

bouquets　of　aerial　palms。　To…day　it　has　no　longer　a　base；　its　columns

rise　separately　from　this　kind　of　suspended　lake。　It　looks　as　if　it

had　been　constructed　in　the　water　for　the　purpose　of　some　royal

naumachy。　We　enter　with　our　boata　strange　port　indeed；　in　its

ancient　grandeur；　a　port　of　a　nameless　melancholy；　particularly　at

this　yellow　hour　of　the　closing　twilight；　and　under　these　icy　winds

that　come　to　us　mercilessly　from　the　neighbouring　deserts。　And　yet　how

adorable　it　is；　this　kiosk　of　Philae；　in　this　the　abandonment　that

precedes　its　downfall！　Its　columns　placed；　as　it　were；　upon　something

unstable；　become　thereby　more　slender；　seem　to　raise　higher　still　the

stone　foliage　of　their　capitals。　A　veritable　kiosk　of　dreamland　now；

which　one　feels　is　about　to　disappear　for　ever　under　these　waters

which　will　subside　no　more！



And　now；　for　another　few　moments；　it　grows　quite　light　again；　and

tints　of　a　warmer　copper　reappear　in　the　sky。　Often　in　Egypt　when　the

sun　has　set　and　you　think　the　light　is　gone；　this　furtive　recoloration

of　the　air　comes　thus　to　surprise　you；　before　the　darkness　finally

descends。　The　reddish　tints　seem　to　return　to　the　slender　shafts　that

surround　us；　and　also；　beyond；　to　the　temple　of　the　goddess；　standing

there　like　a　sheer　rock　in　the　middle　of　this　little　sea；　which　the

wind　covers　with　foam。



On　leaving　the　kiosk　our　boaton　this　deep　usurping　water；　among　the

submerged　palm…treesmakes　a　detour　in　order　to　lead　us　to　the　temple

by　the　road　which　the　pilgrims　of　olden　times　used　to　travel　on　foot

by　that　way　which；　a　little　while　ago；　was　still　magnificent；　bordered

with　colonnades　and　statues。　But　now　the　road　is　entirely　submerged；

and　will　never　be　seen　again。　Between　its　double　row　of　columns　the

water　lifts　us　to　the　height　of　the　capitals；　which　alone　emerge　and

which　we　could　touch　with　our　hands。　It　seems　like　some　journey　of　the

end　of　time；　in　a　kind　of　deserted　Venice；　which　is　about　to　topple

over；　to　sink　and　be　forgotten。



We　arrive　at　the　temple。　Above　our　heads　rise　the　enormous　pylons；

ornamented　with　figures　in　bas…relief：　an　Isis　who　stretches　out　her

arms　as　if　she　were　making　signs　to　us；　and　numerous　other　divinities

gesticulating　mysteriously。　The　door　which　opens　in　the　thickness　of

these　walls　is　low；　besides　being　half　flooded；　and　gives　on　to　depths

already　in　darkness。　We　row　on　and　enter　the　sanctuary；　and　as　soon　as

one　boat　has　crossed　the　sacred　threshold　the　boatmen　stop　their　song

and　suddenly　give　voice　to　the　new　cry　that　has　been　taught　them　for

the　benefit　of　the　tourists：　〃Hip！　Hip！　Hip！　Hurrah！〃　Coming　at　this

moment；　when；　with　heart　oppressed　by　all　the　utilitarian　vandalism

that　surrounds　us；　we　were　entering　the　sanctuary；　what　an　effect　of

gross　and　imbecile　profanation　this　bellowing　of　English　joy　produces！

The　boatmen　know；　moreover；　that　they　have　been　displaced；　that　their

day　has　gone　for　ever；　perhaps　even；　in　the　depths　of　their　Nubian

souls；　they　understand　us；　for　all　that　we　have　imposed　silence　on

them。　The　darkness　increases　within；　although　the　place　is　open　to　the

sky；　and　the　icy　wind　blows　more　mournfully　than　it　did　outside。　A

penetrating　humiditya　humidity　altogether　unknown　in　this　country

before　the　inundationchills　us　to　the　bone。　We　are　now　in　that　part

of　the　temple　which　was　left　uncovered；　the　part　where　the　faithful

used　to　kneel。　The　sonority　of　the　granites　round　about　exaggerates

the　noise　of　the　oars　on　the　enclosed　water；　and　there　is　something

confusing　in　the　thought　that　we　are　rowing　and　floating　between　the

walls　where　formerly；　and　for　centuries；　men　were　used　to　prostrate

themselves　with　their　foreheads　on　the　stones。



And　now　it　is　quite　dark；　the　hour　grows　late。　We　have　to　bring　the

boat　close　to　the　walls　to　distinguish　the　hieroglyphs　and　rigid　gods

which　are　engraved　there　as　finely　as　by　the　burin。　These　walls；

washed　for　nearly　four　years　by　the　inundation；　have　already　taken　on

at　the　base　that　sad　blackish　colour　which　may　be　seen　on　the　old

Venetian　palaces。



Halt　and　silence。　It　is　dark　and　cold。　The　oars　no　longer　move；　and　we

hear　only　the　sighing　of　the　wind　and　the　lapping　of　the　water　against

the　columns　and　the　bas…reliefsand　then　suddenly　there　comes　the

noise　of　a　heavy　body　falling；　followed　by　endless　eddies。　A　great

carved　stone　has　plunged；　at　its　due　hour；　to　rejoin　in　the　black

chaos　below　its　fellows　that　have　already　disappeared；　to　rejoin　the

submerged　temples　and　old　Coptic　churches；　and　the　town　of　the　first

Christian　centuriesall　that　was　once　the　Isle　of　Philae；　the　〃pearl

of　Egypt；〃　one　of　the　marvels　of　the　world。



The　darkness　is　now　extreme　and　we　can　see　no　longer。　Let　us　go　and

shelter；　no　matter　where；　to　await　the　moon。　At　the　end　of　this

uncovered　hall　there　opens　a　door　which　gives　on　to　deep　night。　It　is

the　holy　of　holies；　heavily　roofed　with　granite；　the　highest　part　of

the　temple；　the　only　part　which　the　waters　have　not　yet　reached；　and

there　we　are　able　to　put　foot　to　earth。　Our　footsteps　resound　noisily

on　the　large　resonant　flags；　and　the　owls　take　to　flight。　Profound

darkness；　the　wind　and　the　dampness　freeze　us。　Three　hours　to　go

before　the　rising　of　the　moon；　to　wait　in　this　place　would　be　our

death。　Rather　let　us　return　to　Chelal；　and　shelter　ourselves　in　any

lodging　that　offers；　however　wretched　it　may　be。



*****



A　tavern　of　the　horrible　village　in　the　light　of　an　electric　lamp。　It

reeks　of　absinthe；　this　desert　tavern；　in　which　we　warm　ourselves　at　a

little　smoking　fire。　It　has　been　hastily　built　of　old　tin　boxes；　of

the　debris　of　whisky　cases；　and　by　way　of　mural　decoration　the

landlord；　an　ignorant　Maltese；　has　pasted　everywhere　pictures　cut　from

our　European　pornographic　newspapers。　During　our　hours　of　waiting；

Nubians　and　Arabians　follow　one　another　hither；　asking　for　drink；　and

are　supplied　with　brimming　glassfuls　of　our　alcoholic　beverages。　They

are　the　workers　in　the　new　factories　who　were　formerly　healthy　beings；

living　in　the　open　air。　But　now　their　faces　are　stained　with　coal

dust；　and　their　haggard　eyes　look　unhappy　and　ill。



*****



The　rising　of　the　moon　is　fortunately　at　hand。　Once　more　in　our　boat

we　make　our　way　slowly　towards　the　sad　rock　which　to…day　is　Philae。

The　wind　has　fallen　with　the　night；　as　happens　almost　invariably　in

this　country　in　winter；　and　the　lake　is　calm。　To　the　mournful　yellow

sky　has　succeeded　one　that　is　blue…black；　infinitely　distant；　where

the　stars　of　Egypt　scintillate　in　myriads。



A　great　glimmering　light　shows　now　in　the　east　and　at　length　the　full

moon　rises；　not　blood…coloured　as　in　our　climates　but　straightway　very

luminous；　and　surrounded　by　an　aureole　of　a　kind　of　mist；　caused　by

the　eternal　dust　of　the　sands。　And　when　we　return　to　the　baseless

kiosklulled　always　by　the　Nubian　song　of　the　boatmena　great　disc

is　already　illuminating　everything　with　a　gentle　splendour。　As　our

little　boat　winds　in　and　out；　we　see　the　great　ruddy　disc　passing　and

repassing　between　the　high　columns；　so　striking　in　their　archaism；

whose　images　are　repeated　in　the　water；　that　is　now　grown　calmmore

than　ever　a　kiosk　of　dreamland；　a　kiosk　of　old…world　magic。



In　returning　to　the　temple　of　the　goddess；　we　follow　for　a　second　time

the　submerged　road　between　the　capitals　and　friezes　of　the　colonnade

which　emerge　like　a　row　of　little　reefs。



In　the　uncovered　hall　which　forms　the　entrance　to　the　temple；　it　is

still　dark　between　the　sovereign　granites。　Let　us　moor　our　boat

against　one　of　the　walls　and　await　the　good　pleasure　of　the　moon。　As

soon　as　she　shall　have　risen　high　enough　to　cast　her　light　here；　we

shall　see　clearly。



It　begins　by　a　rosy　glimmer　on　the　summit　of　the　pylons；　and　then

takes　the　form　of　a　luminous　triangle；　very　clearly　defined；　which

grows　gradually　larger　on　the　immense　wall。　Little　by　little　it

descends　towards　the　base　of　the　temple；　revealing　to