DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4393#0226
a08 A THOUSAND MILES VP THE NILE.
forth her passionate invocations, and Osiris is resuscitated
by virtue of the songs of the divine sisters.*
Ill-modeled and ill-cut as they are, there is a clownish
naturalness about these little sculptures which lifts them
above the conventional dead level of ordinary Ptolemaic
work. The figures tell their tale intelligbly. Osiris seems
really struggling to rise, and the action of Isis expresses
clearly enough the intention of the artist. Although a
few heads have been mutilated and the surface of the stone
is somewhat degraded, the subjects are by no means in a
bad state of preservation. In the accompanying sketches,
nothing has been done to improve the defective drawing or
repair the broken outlines of the originals. Osiris in one
has lost his foot and in another his face; the hands of Isis
are as shapeless as those of a bran doll; and the naivete of
the treatment verges throughout upon caricature. But
the interest attaching to them is altogether apart from the
way in which they are executed. And now, returning to
the roof, it is pleasant to breathe the fresher air that comes
with sunset—to see the island, in shape like ah ancient
Egyptian shield, lying mapped out beneath one's feet.
From here, we look back upon the way we have come, and
forward to the way we are going. Northward lies the cata-
ract—a network of islets with flashes of river between.
Southward, the broad current comes on in one smooth,
glassy sheet, unbroken by a single rapid. How eagerly we
turn our eyes that way; for yonder lie Abou Simbcl and
all the mysterious lands beyond the cataracts! But we
cannot see far, for the river curves away grandly to the
right and vanishes behind a range of granite hills.
A similar chain hems in the opposite bank; while high
above the palm-groves fringing the edge of the shore
stand two ruined convents on two rocky prominences,
like a couple of castles on the Rhine. On the east
bank opposite, a few mud houses and a group of
superb carob trees mark the site of a village, the
greater part of which lies hidden among palms. Behind
this village opens a vast sand valley, like an arm of the sea
from which the waters have retreated. The old channel
along which we rode the other day went plowing that
* See M. P. J. (le Horrnck's translation of " The Lamentations of
Isis and Nephthys. Records of the Past," vol. ii, p. 117 et scq.
forth her passionate invocations, and Osiris is resuscitated
by virtue of the songs of the divine sisters.*
Ill-modeled and ill-cut as they are, there is a clownish
naturalness about these little sculptures which lifts them
above the conventional dead level of ordinary Ptolemaic
work. The figures tell their tale intelligbly. Osiris seems
really struggling to rise, and the action of Isis expresses
clearly enough the intention of the artist. Although a
few heads have been mutilated and the surface of the stone
is somewhat degraded, the subjects are by no means in a
bad state of preservation. In the accompanying sketches,
nothing has been done to improve the defective drawing or
repair the broken outlines of the originals. Osiris in one
has lost his foot and in another his face; the hands of Isis
are as shapeless as those of a bran doll; and the naivete of
the treatment verges throughout upon caricature. But
the interest attaching to them is altogether apart from the
way in which they are executed. And now, returning to
the roof, it is pleasant to breathe the fresher air that comes
with sunset—to see the island, in shape like ah ancient
Egyptian shield, lying mapped out beneath one's feet.
From here, we look back upon the way we have come, and
forward to the way we are going. Northward lies the cata-
ract—a network of islets with flashes of river between.
Southward, the broad current comes on in one smooth,
glassy sheet, unbroken by a single rapid. How eagerly we
turn our eyes that way; for yonder lie Abou Simbcl and
all the mysterious lands beyond the cataracts! But we
cannot see far, for the river curves away grandly to the
right and vanishes behind a range of granite hills.
A similar chain hems in the opposite bank; while high
above the palm-groves fringing the edge of the shore
stand two ruined convents on two rocky prominences,
like a couple of castles on the Rhine. On the east
bank opposite, a few mud houses and a group of
superb carob trees mark the site of a village, the
greater part of which lies hidden among palms. Behind
this village opens a vast sand valley, like an arm of the sea
from which the waters have retreated. The old channel
along which we rode the other day went plowing that
* See M. P. J. (le Horrnck's translation of " The Lamentations of
Isis and Nephthys. Records of the Past," vol. ii, p. 117 et scq.