MIDDLE EGYPTIAN

Middle Egyptian introduces the reader to the writing system of ancient Egypt and the language of hieroglyphic texts. It contains twenty-six lessons, exercises (with answers), a list of hieroglyphic signs, and a dictionary. It also includes a series of twenty-six essays on the most important aspects of ancient Egyptian history, society, religion, literature, and language. The combination of grammar lessons and cultural essays allows users not only to read hieroglyphic texts but also to understand them, providing the foundation for understanding texts on monuments and reading great works of ancient Egyptian literature in the original.

This third edition is revised and reorganized, particularly in its approach to the verbal system, based on recent advances in understanding the language. Illustrations enhance the discussions, and an index of references has been added. These changes and additions provide a complete and up-to-date grammatical description of the classical language of ancient Egypt for specialists in linguistics and other fields.

JAMES P. ALLEN is the Charles Edwin Wilbour Professor of Egyptology at Brown University. He is a former curator of Egyptian art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and President of the International Association of Egyptologists. His previous publications include Genesis in Egypt: the Philosophy of Ancient Egyptian Creation Accounts (1989), The Heqanakht Papyri (2002), The Ancient Egyptian Pyramid Texts (2005), The Debate between a Man and His Soul (2010), and The Ancient Egyptian Language, an Historical Study (2013).

MIDDLE EGYPTIAN

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE LANGUAGE AND CULTURE OF HIEROGLYPHS

JAMES P. ALLEN

THIRD EDITION, REVISED AND REORGANIZED, WITH A NEW ANALYSIS OF THE VERBAL SYSTEM

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© James P. Allen 2014

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Second edition published 2010
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LIST OF FIGURES

1.The Egyptian view of the world

2.Map of Egypt

3.Minoans and Nubians bringing tribute

4.Ramesses III worshipping the gods Re-Harakhti, Atum, Iuesaas, and Hathor

5.Procession of the bark of Amun

6.The ba visiting the mummy

7.The ba emerging from the false door

8.The weighing of the heart

9.Maat in the tomb of Haremhab

10.King Haremhab and Nefertum

11.Sia and Heka accompanying the Sun

12.Ptah, Amun, Ramesses II, and Re in the temple of Abu Simbel

13.Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and their three oldest daughters

14.Ancient Egyptian scribes

15.The Annals of Thutmose III in Karnak

16.Sarcophagus of Mentuhotep

17.Blind harper and singers

18.Problems in geometry from the Rhind Mathematical Papyrus

19.A letter of Heqanakht in hieratic on papyrus

20.The letter illustrated in Fig. 19 as found, folded, addressed, and sealed

21.Three giants of ancient Egyptian grammar studies

PREFACE

The decipherment of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic writing is one of the great success stories of modern archeology. Before 1822, the civilization of ancient Egypt was mute and mysterious, its images bizarre and incomprehensible to a world convinced that all thought of any worth began with the ancient Greeks. Today we are able to read the ancient Egyptian texts and, more importantly, to understand for the most part what they meant to the people who wrote them. In the process we have discovered a world of rich imagination, sophisticated thought, and profoundly moving emotion.

Learning Egyptian, however, presents a number of problems not encountered in studying most other languages. The culture of ancient Egypt differs from our own in more than just its language. Its texts are full of terms and concepts that have no direct counterpart in the modern world. To help you understand these, each grammatical lesson is also complemented by a short essay on some aspect of Egyptian society and thought. This foundation will make it possible for you not only to translate the hieroglyphic texts but also to understand what they have to say.

Ancient Egyptian is a dead language, and our knowledge of it is restricted to the limited number of texts that have managed to survive. We learn Egyptian, therefore, not as a means of communication but as a tool for reading those texts. The purpose of this book is to enable you to understand the grammar and content of Middle Egyptian texts and not—or only accidentally—to teach you how to write your own Egyptian sentences. The exercises in each lesson and the accompanying dictionary in the back of the book therefore go in one direction only, from Egyptian to English.

As you will discover in the course of the first few lessons, the hieroglyphic writing system does not represent very well what Middle Egyptian was like as a spoken language. For that reason, we cannot usefully approach ancient Egyptian as we might other languages, learning the grammar through phrases and sentences designed around the scenarios of everyday life. Because hieroglyphs usually do not reveal the actual form of a word, we cannot rely just on the written form to tell us what a word means. We also have to pay close attention to context: how words are put together into the phrases and sentences of Egyptian texts.

In learning Middle Egyptian, therefore, we also need to learn the mechanics of grammar—concepts such as predicates, adverbial modifiers, and subordinate clauses. Experience has shown that beginning students often find these concepts a major hurdle to learning Egyptian—and conversely, once they are understood, a significant aid to reading Egyptian texts. For that reason, the lessons in this book devote a good deal of time to the discussion of grammar. Terms are defined when they are first introduced, and grammatical constructions are illustrated with examples from English as well as Egyptian. This approach should make it possible for you to perceive grammar as less of a barrier and more of a tool in your efforts to learn Middle Egyptian. The emphasis in these lessons is on a practical approach to recognizing Egyptian forms and constructions. Discussions of grammatical theory are relegated to the final essay, where you can evaluate their usefulness on the basis of what you have learned.

As you can see from the title page, this is the third edition of the book. The second edition was primarily intended to correct errors in the first edition and to introduce illustrations to accompany the essays. This new edition essentially follows the same format, but it is significantly different in several respects. The page layout has been redesigned to increase legibility, resulting in a slightly larger page count. To make it more useful as an aid to reading texts, an index of textual references has been added. The discussion of dependent clauses has been extracted from the lessons on individual constructions and verb forms and reorganized into dedicated lessons on the various means of subordination.

Most importantly, the treatment of the verb has been greatly simplified in three respects. As discussed in Essay 26, scholarship in the past few years has cast doubt on two fundamental assumptions of previous grammatical studies of Middle Egyptian enshrined in the first two editions of this book: that gemination is an inflectional feature, that meaning and usage are critical indices for identifying forms of the sdm.f, and that the sdm.f and sdm.n.f have nominal/relative as well as regular forms. This edition treats gemination as a lexical feature and relies primarily on written forms for analyzing the verb. As a result, the four participles described in the first two editions have been reduced to two and the seven forms of the active and passive sdm.f have been reinterpreted as one active and one passive; this brings the Middle Egyptian verbal system more in line with that of later stages of the language, and should make it much easier for beginning students to comprehend. In addition, nominal/relative uses of the sdm.f and sdm.n.f are treated as a feature of syntax rather than inflection.

The fact that such a profound shift in the analysis of Middle Egyptian has occurred only in the past few years reflects an ever-increasing sophistication in our understanding of the language. I hope that students of this book will continue that trend. I am grateful to Cambridge University Press for the opportunity to bring out this revised edition, and I trust that the changes introduced in it will make the book even more useful than its first two incarnations.

Providence, 2013

1.LANGUAGE AND WRITING

1.1Family

Egyptian is the ancient and original language of Egypt. It belongs to the language family known as Afro-Asiatic or Hamito-Semitic and is related to both of that family’s branches: North African languages such as Berber and Beja, and Asiatic languages such as Arabic, Ethiopic, and Hebrew. Within Afro-Asiatic, Egyptian is unique. It has features that are common to both branches, although it is closer to the African side of the family.

1.2History

Egyptian first appeared in writing shortly before 3200 BC and remained a living language until the eleventh century AD.¹ Beginning with the Muslim conquest of Egypt in AD 641, Arabic gradually replaced Egyptian as the dominant language in Egypt. Today, the language of Egypt is Arabic. Egyptian is a dead language, like Latin, which can only be studied in writing, though it is still spoken in the rituals of the Coptic (Egyptian Christian) Church.

Throughout its long lifetime, Egyptian underwent tremendous changes. Scholars classify its history into two phases and five major stages:

Earlier Egyptian

1)Old Egyptian is the first stage of the language. Although Egyptian writing is first attested before 3200 BC, these early inscriptions (called Archaic Egyptian) consist only of names and labels. Old Egyptian proper is dated from approximately 2700 BC, when the first extensive texts appeared, until about 2100 BC.

2)Middle Egyptian (or Classical Egyptian) is closely related to Old Egyptian. First attested around 2100 BC, it survived as a spoken language for some five hundred years but remained the standard hieroglyphic language for the rest of ancient Egyptian history. Middle Egyptian is the phase of the language discussed in this book.

Later Egyptian

3)Late Egyptian began to replace Middle Egyptian as the spoken language after 1600 BC, and it remained in use until about 600 BC. Though descended from Old and Middle Egyptian, Late Egyptian differed substantially from the earlier phases, particularly in grammar. Traces of Late Egyptian can be found in texts earlier than 1600 BC, but it did not appear as a full written language until after 1300 BC.

4)Demotic developed out of Late Egyptian. It first appeared around 650 BC and survived until the fifth century AD.

5)Coptic is the name given to the final stage of ancient Egyptian, which is closely related to Demotic. It appeared at the end of the first century AD and was spoken for nearly a thousand years thereafter. The last known texts written by native speakers of Coptic date to the eleventh century AD.

1.3Dialects

Egyptian also had several dialects. These regional differences in speech and writing are best attested in Coptic, which had five major dialects. They can only be partly detected in the writing of earlier phases of Egyptian, but they undoubtedly existed then as well: a letter from about 1200 BC complains that a correspondent’s language is as incomprehensible as that of a northern Egyptian speaking with an Egyptian from the south. The southern dialect of Coptic, known as Saidic, was the classical form; the northern one, called Bohairic, is the dialect used in Coptic Church services today.

1.4Hieroglyphs

The basic writing system of ancient Egyptian consisted of about five hundred common signs, known as hieroglyphs. The term “hieroglyph” comes from two Greek words meaning “sacred carvings,” which are a translation, in turn, of the Egyptians’ own name for their writing system, “the god’s speech.” Each sign in this system is a hieroglyph, and the system as a whole is called hieroglyphic (not “hieroglyphics”).

Unlike Mesopotamian cuneiform or Chinese, whose beginnings can be traced over several hundred years, hieroglyphic writing seems to appear in Egypt suddenly, around 3250 BC, as a complete system. Scholars are divided in their opinions about its origins. Some suggest that the earlier, developmental stages of hieroglyphic were written on perishable materials, such as wood, and simply have not survived. Others argue that the system could have been invented all at once by an unknown genius. Although it was once thought that the idea of writing came to Egypt from Mesopotamia, recent discoveries indicate that writing arose independently in Egypt.

People since the ancient Greeks have tried to understand this system as a mystical encoding of secret wisdom, but hieroglyphic is no more mysterious than any other system that has been used to record language. Basically, hieroglyphic is nothing more than the way the ancient Egyptians wrote their language. To read hieroglyphic, therefore, you have to learn the Egyptian language.

1.5Hieroglyphic spelling

Each hieroglyph is a picture of a thing that existed in the world or imagination of the ancient Egyptians: for instance, the ground plan of a simple house a human mouth or a pair of legs in motion These could be used to write the words that they depicted, or related words: for example, “house”; “come.” When a hieroglyph is used in this manner, it is called an ideogram (“idea writing”). We still use ideograms, even in English: for example, “I ♥ my dog” or ☺.

Writing with ideograms is simple and direct, but it is pretty much limited to things that can be pictured. All languages, however, also contain many words for things that cannot be conveyed by a simple picture. Successful writing systems must find a way to express those ideas as well. Most written languages do so by a system of signs that represent not things but the sounds of the language. This allows their writers to “spell out” words. A sign used in this way is called a phonogram (“sound writing”). English writing uses phonograms: each letter in our alphabet is a symbol that represents a sound rather than an object of the real world.

The idea that symbols could be used to represent the sounds of a language rather than objects is one of the most important, and ancient, of all human discoveries. It is often called “the rebus principle.” A rebus is a message spelled out in pictures that represent sounds rather than the things they are pictures of: for example, the pictures of an eye a bee and a leaf can be put together as the English rebus meaning “I believe” (“eye-bee-leaf ”)—which has nothing to do with eyes, bees, or leaves. The hieroglyphic system used this principle too. Many Egyptian hieroglyphs could be used not only as ideograms, but also as phonograms. For example, the signs for “house” and “mouth” were also used as phonograms in the word “seed,” which has nothing to do with houses or mouths.

In Middle Egyptian, many words spelled with phonograms have an ideogram added at the end. This extra sign, traditionally called a determinative, has two functions: it shows that the signs preceding it are to be read as phonograms rather than ideograms, and it is a classifier that indicates the general idea of the word. For example, the words “seed” and “emergence” are distinguished by their determinatives (seeds) and (walking legs).

To summarize: the individual pictures of the Egyptian hieroglyphic writing system are used in three different ways:

1)as ideograms, to represent the things they actually depict: for example, “house” and “mouth.”

2)as phonograms, to represent the sounds that “spell out” individual words: for example, “emerge.” Used in this way, the hieroglyphs stand for sounds rather than for pictures of things.

3)as determinatives, to show that the signs preceding are meant as phonograms, and to indicate the general idea of the word: for example, the “walking legs” in “emerge.”

All hieroglyphs have the potential to be used in each of these ways. In practice, however, their use was generally more restricted. Some occur mostly as ideograms or determinatives, others almost exclusively as phonograms. The “house” sign is one of the few hieroglyphs that was regularly used in all three functions: as an ideogram, meaning “house”; as a phonogram, with the value pr; and as a determinative, after words denoting buildings.

1.6Direction

Unlike English, which is always written from left to right, and normally in horizontal rows, hieroglyphs could be written in four different directions:

in a horizontal row—left to right or right to left

in a vertical column—left to right or right to left

This flexibility is a useful feature of hieroglyphic writing. Although they preferred to write right to left, the Egyptians often took advantage of it to produce symmetrical inscriptions. For example, on the offering-table pictured below (Licht, 54 fig. 53), one inscription begins at the top and runs down the right side (A), and a similar one faces it on the left (B); at the bottom, two shorter inscriptions (C and D) face each other the same way:

When hieroglyphs accompany images, they normally face in the same direction as the image they refer to. In the scene reproduced below (Meir V, pl. 18), the man on the left is a sculptor; on the right is the seated statue he is working on. Above the sculptor’s head are two rows of hieroglyphs, facing right, which identify him as “Overseer of sculpting, Itjau”; the three rows of hieroglyphs above the statue read “Statue of the courtier, overseer of priests, Henenit the Black,” and they face left, like the statue itself.

Usually, signs with an obvious front and back (like face the beginning of their inscription, as they do in the illustrations above. The normal rule is to read “into” the signs: the lefthand inscriptions in these figures are read from right to left, and the righthand ones from left to right. Once in a while, however, this rule is reversed, and the signs face the end of the inscription; such inscriptions are called “retrograde,” and are found almost exclusively in religious texts.

1.7Groups

The words of hieroglyphic texts follow one after the other: in the scene reproduced above, for example, the three rows on the right contain, in order, the words “Statue of ” (row 1), “courtier, overseer (of) priests” (row 2), and “Henenit (the) Black” (row 3) (the words in parentheses do not appear in the hieroglyphs). The signs that spell out these words, however, are arranged in groups, rather than one after the other like the letters of an English word.

This kind of organization is a fundamental principle of all hieroglyphic writing. The arrangement of the groups depends on the shape of the individual signs. In general, every hieroglyph has one of three basic shapes:

1)tall signs: for example, and

2)flat signs: for example, and

3)small signs: for example, and .

Tall signs usually stand by themselves, but the other signs are normally arranged into square or rectangular groups. In the name “Henenit the Black,” for instance, the first two tall signs stand alone, one after the other the next two, which are flat, are arranged in a square the tall sign following stands alone and the last two small signs are grouped in a rectangle with one above the other Sometimes a tall sign can be made smaller and grouped with a flat one, as in “overseer” in the scene above. When signs of dissimilar shapes are grouped, they are regularly centered, like the hieroglyphs in the same scene. If a flat or small sign has to stand alone it is centered in the row, like the signs and in the lefthand inscription of the scene.

The groups of a hieroglyphic inscription are meant to be read from beginning to end and from top to bottom. In the word “courtier,” for example, the order is . Direction and grouping are the only organizing methods used in hieroglyphic writing. Hieroglyphic texts do not separate the words by spaces, and there are no punctuation marks. This makes hieroglyphic inscriptions difficult to read at first, but with practice it will become easier to see the words rather than strings of signs— justasyoucanreadthisstringoflettersbecauseyouknowenglish.

1.8The uses of hieroglyphs

Hieroglyphic was used to write Old and Middle Egyptian. Although Middle Egyptian ceased to be a spoken language by about 1600 BC, it remained in use in hieroglyphic texts until the end of ancient Egyptian history. Most hieroglyphic inscriptions are found on the walls of ancient Egyptian temples, obelisks, and tombs, or on objects such as statues, offering tables, coffins, sarcophagi (stone coffins), and stelae (inscribed slabs of stone or wood, like modern gravestones). In these places the texts can serve as labels (as in the scene above) or dedications (as on the offering-table above); they can also record the speech of the participants in a scene. Longer hieroglyphic inscriptions are usually historical or autobiographical texts, or religious texts such as hymns and funerary spells.

Hieroglyphs were normally carved into stone, wood, or ivory, or painted on plaster. Because all hieroglyphic signs are individual pictures, the ancient sculptors and painters often took as much care in making them as they did with the other elements of a scene, such as the figures of animals, people, or gods. Sometimes, however, the artists carved or painted only the outline of each sign; this is particularly true in long hieroglyphic texts.

1.9Cursive hieroglyphs and hieratic

Besides carving or painting inscriptions, the ancient Egyptians also wrote texts with a reed brush and ink on papyrus, leather, or wood. In these handwritten texts it is very rare to find hieroglyphs made with the same detail as those in hieroglyphic inscriptions. Such documents employed a much simpler form of each sign, called cursive hieroglyphic. Here is a sample of cursive writing, on the left, with the same text reproduced in regular hieroglyphs next to it (CT IV, 255b–257a T1Be):

Cursive hieroglyphic inscriptions are usually written from right to left in columns, like the sample above, and are found almost exclusively in religious texts such as the “Book of the Dead.”

For handwritten texts, the Egyptians used an even more cursive style of writing, which the ancient Greeks called hieratic (“priestly”). Hieratic is almost as old as hieroglyphic itself. The relationship between hieratic and hieroglyphic is the same as that between our handwriting and printing. Like cursive hieroglyphs, each hieratic sign has a hieroglyphic counterpart, although these are not always as self-evident in hieratic as they are in cursive hieroglyphs. Here is a sample hieratic text, with the corresponding hieroglyphs transcribed below it (Ptahhotep 277–78):

Like cursive hieroglyphs, hieratic was written with a reed brush and ink, usually on papyrus. It is always written from right to left. Originally, hieratic could be written in either rows or columns; after about 1800 BC, however, columns were used only in religious texts, and all other hieratic texts were written in rows.

Hieratic was used to write Old, Middle, and Late Egyptian. For Old and Middle Egyptian it served as an alternative means of writing alongside hieroglyphic. The two scripts were used for different kinds of documents: hieroglyphic for formal texts meant to be permanent, such as tomb and temple inscriptions, and hieratic usually for more temporary texts, such as letters and accounts. Hieratic texts often reflect the contemporary colloquial language more closely than hieroglyphic, particularly after about 1600 BC; Late Egyptian is written almost exclusively in hieratic.

1.10Demotic

Late Egyptian hieratic writing became more cursive and abbreviated as time went on, particularly in administrative documents. Eventually, it developed into the script we call Demotic (from the Greek for “popular”). Here is an example of Demotic writing (Erichsen, Lesestücke I, 73):

The term “Demotic” is used to refer to both writing and language: the phase of Egyptian known as Demotic is written only in the Demotic script. Since Demotic developed out of hieratic, it is even farther removed from hieroglyphic, and it is almost impossible to recognize the hieroglyphic ancestors of Demotic signs. For this reason, scholars do not usually transliterate Demotic writing into hieroglyphs; instead, they transcribe it into English letters (see Lesson 2): the transcription of the text above reads dd.f n.w m-jr ḫsf t ntj jw.y dd.s dd.w py.n nb .

The first Demotic texts appeared around 650 BC. From then on, Demotic was the normal means of writing Egyptian; hieratic, like cursive hieroglyphic, was kept only for religious manuscripts (hence its name “priestly”); and hieroglyphic was used in monumental inscriptions. Like hieratic, Demotic was mostly written with a brush and ink on papyrus. Toward the end of Egyptian civilization, however, only priests were still able to read hieroglyphic writing; inscriptions that were meant to have a larger audience were carved in Demotic instead. The Rosetta Stone, which records a decree issued in 196 BC to honor the pharaoh Ptolemy V, is inscribed in hieroglyphic (the sacred script of the priesthood that issued the decree), Demotic (the normal Egyptian script), and Greek (the native language of the Ptolemaic pharaohs).

1.11Coptic

The Egyptians who adopted Christianity, after the first century AD, began to translate the sacred scriptures of this new religion into their own language, but they were reluctant to use the Demotic script for that purpose because of its association with the older, “pagan” religion. Instead, they wrote their sacred texts in the letters of the Greek alphabet. This script is called Coptic, the same term used for the Egyptian branch of Christianity. The Coptic alphabet has thirty-two letters: twenty-four taken from Greek, seven for sounds that Egyptian had but Greek did not, and one monogram (one letter standing for two). Here is a sample of Coptic writing (with the words separated), and its equivalent in English letters:

peneivt | etxnmphue | marepekran | oyop
peneiōt | ethnmpēue | marepekran | ouop

These are the first words of the Christian “Lord’s Prayer” (“Our-father, who-(is)-in-the-skies, may-your-name-be holy”). For more on the Coptic alphabet, see § 2.5.

Like “Demotic,” the term “Coptic” refers to a phase of the Egyptian language as well as a system of writing. As Egypt became increasingly Christian, the older writing systems were relegated to the texts and temples of the old religion. By the end of the fifth century AD, Coptic had become the only means of writing Egyptian, for secular and religious (Christian) texts alike. It remained in use until the death of the language itself, some six centuries later.

1.12Decipherment

After the introduction of Coptic, the four ancient Egyptian scripts—hieroglyphic, hieratic, Demotic, and Coptic—existed side by side for about two hundred years. Hieratic died out sometime in the third century AD, the last hieroglyphic inscription was carved in AD 394, and the last known text in Demotic dates to AD 452. Thereafter, even though Egyptian continued to be spoken and written (in Coptic), the knowledge of the earlier writing systems was lost.

The earliest attempt to recover this lost knowledge probably dates from the fourth century AD, slightly before the last known ancient texts were inscribed. This was a work called Hieroglyphica (“Hieroglyphics”), supposedly written by an Egyptian named Horapollo and translated into Greek (the earliest copy of it dates to the fifteenth century AD). There is reason to believe that the author had some knowledge of hieroglyphic, but his explanation of the system is purely allegorical—perhaps because it was intended for a Greek audience, who had long believed in the mystical symbolism of hieroglyphs. He explains, for example, that the word for “son” is written with a goose because geese love their offspring more than any other animal does. The picture of a goose is in fact used to write the word “son,” but only as a phonogram (because one word for “goose” had the same sound as the word for “son”); it is also used as a phonogram in other words that have nothing to do with either geese or offspring.

Horapollo’s allegorical explanations were highly influential, and his approach dominated attempts at decipherment for the next fourteen centuries. Only with the work of Athanasius Kircher, in the mid-seventeenth century, did scholars begin to think that hieroglyphs could represent sounds as well as ideas. Kircher knew Coptic, and he also had the inspired notion that this last phase of Egyptian might be somehow related to the language of the hieroglyphs. But Kircher also believed in the mystical nature of the ancient script, and this eventually doomed to failure all his attempts at decipherment.

It was not until the discovery of the Rosetta Stone, in 1799, that scholars were able to make practical use of Kircher’s ideas. For the first time they had a hieroglyphic text (on the top third of the stone) that had an undisputed translation into a known language (Greek, on the stone’s bottom third). Scholars in several countries worked on the new text and succeeded in identifying many of the hieroglyphic groups with words in the Greek translation. But the final breakthrough eluded all of them except one, a young French schoolteacher named Jean-François Champollion.

From the work of two of his contemporaries, the Swede Johan Åkerblad and the Englishman Thomas Young, Champollion suspected that some hieroglyphic signs might be read phonetically. He began compiling a list of such signs by studying royal names, which could easily be identified by the “cartouche” (name-ring) surrounding them. The cartouches on the Rosetta Stone all corresponded to the name of the pharaoh Ptolemy V (210–180 BC) in the Greek text:

Using this as a starting point, Champollion next looked at the cartouches on an obelisk whose base had been inscribed with Greek texts honoring another Ptolemy and two queens named Cleopatra. Here he found the same cartouche along with another, which he identified as the name “Cleopatra”:

Both cartouches had some of the same signs, and by their position in the two names he was able to identify them as p and With these he was able to assign values to most of the other signs as well: m , and

This convinced Champollion that hieroglyphs could be used alphabetically, at least for foreign names, though he still believed that they could also be read symbolically. The real breakthrough came when he began working on a cartouche with the signs From his previous work, Champollion was able to recognize the last two signs as s. Seeking a value for the first symbol, he thought of the sun and the Coptic word for “sun,” rē. This gave him rē–…–s–s and immediately reminded him of the name Ramesses, which was known from a list of pharaonic names in a Greek history of Egypt written around 300 BC. Champollion then noticed the sign in a hieroglyphic group on the Rosetta Stone corresponding to the word for “birth” in the Greek text. Since the Coptic word for “birth” is mise, this confirmed his reading of the name Ramesses (rē–mise–s–s, meaning “The sun is the one who gave him birth”).

Champollion’s discovery proved three things about hieroglyphs: they could be used both as phonograms and as ideograms ( = rē “sun”), and the language of hieroglyphic inscriptions was the same as that of Coptic ( = rē “sun,” = mise “birth”). With this foundation he was able to make rapid progress in reading not only the Rosetta Stone but other hieroglyphic texts as well. The announcement of his discovery on September 27th, 1822, marks the beginning of the modern science of Egyptology.

Since Champollion’s time, Egyptology has continually refined our knowledge of ancient Egyptian writing, words, and grammar. Hieroglyphic texts can be read today almost as easily as those of any other known language.

ESSAY 1. ANCIENT EGYPTIAN HISTORY

Scholars divide the long history of ancient Egypt into periods and dynasties. A dynasty is a series of kings related by family, geographic origin, or some other feature. Our current system of dynasties dates to the work of an Egyptian priest named Manetho, who wrote a history of Egypt about 300 BC. Using older Egyptian archives as his source, Manetho divided Egypt’s pharaohs into thirty dynasties. These divisions are still used for the most part, though scholars have been able to revise them on the basis of more ancient historical material.

The dynastic history of Egypt begins around 3000 BC, when the country was unified under a single government. Before that time, Egypt was divided into a number of local centers of power; this is known as the Predynastic Period. Manetho began his Dynasty 1 with the legendary king Menes, who united the south and north and built a new capital at Memphis (just south of modern Cairo). Scholars have not been able to identify Menes with any of the known historical pharaohs. Today, the first king of Dynasty 1 is generally assumed to be either Aha or his predecessor, Narmer. In fact, there is evidence that a number of kings even before Narmer had control of most if not all of Egypt; to preserve the traditional dynastic numbering, scholars group these earlier pharaohs into a “Dynasty Zero.”

Dynasties 1 and 2 are known as the Archaic Period (ca. 3000–2650 BC). During this time we can trace the development of most traditional aspects of Egyptian civilization: government, religion, art, and writing. The first full bloom of Egyptian culture came during the Old Kingdom, Dynasties 3–6 (ca. 2650–2150 BC). This was the time when the great pyramids were built and the first full hieroglyphic texts appeared.

After Dynasty 6, the central government weakened and Egypt entered a phase of its history known as the First Intermediate Period (Dynasties 8–11, ca. 2150–2040 BC; Manetho’s Dynasty 7 does not correspond to any known historical kings). Toward the end of this period, Egypt was ruled by two competing local dynasties: Dynasty 10, with its capital at Herakleopolis in the north; and Dynasty 11, based at Thebes in the south.

Around 2040 BC, a king of Dynasty 11, known as Mentuhotep II, managed to gain control of the entire country; this event marks the beginning of the Middle Kingdom (Dynasties 11-13, ca. 2040–1700 BC). Dynasty 12, ruling from a new capital at Lisht (about thirty miles south of modern Cairo), inaugurated the second flowering of Egyptian culture. During its rule the first great works of Egyptian literature were written, in the phase of the language known as Middle Egyptian.

Toward the end of Dynasty 13, central authority over the entire country weakened once again, and Egypt entered its Second Intermediate Period (Dynasties 13–17, ca. 1700–1550 BC). This era began with competing native dynasties in the south and north (Dynasties 13–14). Around 1650 BC the rulers of an Asiatic settlement in the Delta gained control of most of the country. The Egyptians called these kings Hyksos (HICK-soes), meaning “foreign rulers”; they are traditionally assigned to Dynasty 15. Meanwhile, the area around Thebes, in the south of Egypt, was governed by two successive native dynasties (the 16th and 17th).

After a series of battles lasting some two decades, between the last kings of Dynasty 17 and the Hyksos, a king named Ahmose was able to conquer the Hyksos and reestablish a unified government. His reign marks the beginning of Dynasty 18 and the period of Egyptian history known as the New Kingdom (Dynasty 18, ca. 1550–1302 BC). Once again Egyptian culture flourished, as the pharaohs of Dynasty 18 extended Egyptian influence over much of the Near East and inaugurated great building projects in Egypt itself. The end of Dynasty 18 saw the rule of the heretic pharaoh Akhenaten (who tried to establish the worship of a single god) and his successors, including Tutankhamun—a series of reigns known as the Amarna Period (ca. 1346–1316 BC).

The last pharaoh of Dynasty 18, Haremhab (ca. 1316–1302 BC), managed to quell the internal disruption that resulted from Akhenaten’s experiment, and his successors once again presided over a strong and stable Egypt. Most of the kings of the next two dynasties were named Ramesses, and their rule is known as the Ramesside Period (Dynasties 19–20, ca. 1302–1086 BC). The reign of Ramesses II (ca. 1290–1224 BC) was the high point of this time, marked by a peace treaty with the Hittites (the second great power in the Near East), advances in Egyptian theology and philosophy, and the greatest building projects since the time of the pyramids, 1300 years earlier.

Though most of them bore the same name, the successors of Ramesses II were hard pressed to live up to his legacy. After the death of the last Ramesside pharaoh, Ramesses XI, Egypt once more fell into a period of disunity. For the next four hundred years, a time known as the Third Intermediate Period (ca. 1086–650 BC), the country was torn between competing dynasties of native rulers (Dynasties 21 and 24) and kings originating from Libya (Dynasties 22–23) and Nubia (Dynasty 25). Not until 650 BC was Egypt able to prosper under a period of stable, unified rule by a single dynasty of native kings. The rulers of this dynasty, the 26th (672–525 BC), governed from the city of Sais, in the north, and their reign is known as the Saite Period. It was marked by a resurgence in the arts, based on the classical forms of the Old and Middle Kingdom.

The Saite Period ended brutally, with the conquest of Egypt by a Persian army in 525 BC. For the first time in its dynastic history, Egypt was governed not as an independent country but as the province of a foreign empire. During the next two hundred years, known as the Late Period (Dynasties 27–30, 525–332 BC), Egypt tottered between Persian rule (Dynasty 27) and brief periods when native pharaohs managed to regain control (Dynasties 28–30). In 343 BC, the Persians conquered Egypt for the final time, ending the reign of Nectanebo II, the last native Egyptian to rule his country until the Egyptian revolution in AD 1952.

When Alexander the Great destroyed the Persian Empire in 332 BC, he gained control of Egypt as well. After Alexander’s death in 323 BC, the rule of Egypt passed to one of his generals, named Ptolemy. Though they were of Macedonian origin, Ptolemy and his descendants governed Egypt as pharaohs. The country prospered during the three hundred years of their reign, known as the Ptolemaic Period (323–30 BC), with a strong central government and an ongoing program of rebuilding and renewing the older monuments.

Ptolemaic rule ended in 30 BC, when the coalition of Marc Antony and the Ptolemaic ruler Cleopatra VII was defeated by Octavian, the future Caesar Augustus. Egypt became a province of the Roman Empire. Although its ancient customs continued under Roman rule for the next four hundred years, Egypt gradually lost its old identity, first to Christianity and then, in AD 641, to Islam. The Roman conquest of 30 BC is generally considered as the end of ancient Egyptian civilization.

EXERCISE 1

1.On the next page are four different hieroglyphic texts from real inscriptions. Write numbers next to the hieroglyphs in each one showing the order in which the signs are supposed to be read and each count as one sign).

a)

“The sun-disk’s rays are protection over you, their hands holding health and life” (from one of the shrines of Tutankhamun) (Piankoff, Shrines, Fig. 28).

b)

“I was his servant, his true confidant” (from an autobiographical inscription) (TPPI, § 20, 4).

c)

“You shall reveal to him“your secrets” (from the tomb of Seti I) (Hornung, Seti I, pl. 16, col. 210)

d)

“I have followed him by night and day to all his places” (from an autobiography) (TPPI, § 17, 5)

2.Try to arrange the following strings of signs into groups. To help you, signs that go together have been separated by spaces; you can adjust the size of individual signs where necessary.

a) (Urk.VII, 2, 9)

“I have made my tomb by the king’s blessing.”

b)

“A royal offering of Anubis on his mountain, he who is in the mummywrappings, lord of the sacred land.”

c) (ShS. 149)

“Then he laughed at me because of that which I said.”

d) (Westc. 11, 10–11)

“What is the reason we have returned?”

e) (Siut IV, 23)

“Look, your name will exist forever in the temple.”

1 Some scholars prefer BCE and CE rather than BC and AD. Because both conventions use the same benchmark (see Essay 9), however, this book retains the older system.

2.UNILITERAL SIGNS

2.1Spelling

Hieroglyphic writing represents ancient Egyptian words. When ancient Egyptian was still a living language, those words were spoken as well as written. Hieroglyphs used as phonograms (“sound writing”: see § 1.5) represent the sounds of those words, just as the letters of the English alphabet represent the sounds of the English language. Unlike the English alphabet, however, hieroglyphic writing usually shows only the consonants of Egyptian words. Not until Coptic did the ancient Egyptians use a writing system that regularly indicated the vowels as well. For earlier stages of the language—including Middle Egyptian—we are left with only the skeleton of Egyptian words, although we can reconstruct the vowels of some words from Coptic. Leaving out the vowels is not peculiar to hieroglyphic: among modern languages, Hebrew and Arabic regularly omit their vowels in writing.

As far as can be determined, Middle Egyptian had twenty-three consonants. Each consonant could be represented in hieroglyphic by a single sign; such signs are called uniliteral (“one-letter”) hieroglyphs. In effect, these uniliteral hieroglyphs constituted an Egyptian “alphabet,” but they were not used as such by the Egyptians, usually only in combination with other hieroglyphs.

Like English, Middle Egyptian used a conservative system of spelling. Words sometimes showed the consonants they had had in Old Egyptian, even when some of those were no longer pronounced in Middle Egyptian—just as English retains, for example, the gh in night, even though the consonant those letters represent ceased to be pronounced hundreds of years ago. Middle Egyptian had probably also developed some new sounds that were not represented by uniliteral signs of their own. Here too, Egyptian is similar to English: we use two letters, for example, to represent the sound sh (as in ship), because the Greek and Latin languages, from which our alphabet comes, did not have that sound. Finally, Egyptian spelling was not always consistent. Many words could be spelled in several different ways: with ideograms alone, with a combination of phonograms and ideograms, and with one or more determinatives (or none at all). English spelling itself only became standardized in the last two hundred years.

2.2Transcription

These features make it impossible to know exactly how any one word was pronounced in Middle Egyptian. Nonetheless, Egyptologists need to be able to write about Egyptian words and to compile dictionaries of them. To do so, they use a system of transcription: that is, a set of alphabetical symbols that represent each of the uniliteral hieroglyphs. Egyptology has used several systems of transcription since the time of Champollion. Two are commonly in use now: the British and European systems. This book uses the European system, because it requires fewer special signs. A third system, found in the publications of E. A. W. Budge, is now outdated, but is useful to know because many of Budge’s books are still in print. A fourth system, without special signs, is used for computerized texts. A fifth system, used by some Egyptologists, is based on reconstructed proto-Semitic phonology.

2.3Uniliteral signs

The table below shows the uniliteral hieroglyphs of Middle Egyptian, along with their transcription in the European system and the names by which Egyptologists commonly refer to them. The table is arranged in the order used in dictionaries of ancient Egyptian. To be able to use the dictionaries (including the one in the back of this book), you will need to memorize this order.

SYMBOL |  | TRANSCR. | NAME
[picture] | vulture | [picture] | aleph (“ALL-if ”)
[picture] | reed-leaf |  |
[picture] | dual strokes¹ | j | j or i or yod (“yode”)
[picture] | double reed-leaf | y | y
[picture] | arm | [picture] | ayin (“EYE-in”)
[picture] | quail-chick or |  |
[picture] | curl of rope | w | w
[picture] | foot | b | b
[picture] | stool | p | p
[picture] | horned viper | f | f
[picture] | owl or |  |
[picture] | unknown object | m | m
[picture] | water or |  |
[picture] | red crown | n | n
[picture] | mouth | r | r
[picture] | enclosure | h | h
[picture] | rope | [picture] | dotted h
[picture] | bread | ḫ | third h
[picture] | belly and udder | h | fourth h
[picture] | doorbolt | z | z or first s
[picture] | bolt of cloth | s | s or second s
[picture] | depression | š | shin
[picture] | hill | q | q or dotted k
[picture] | basket with handle | k | k
[picture] | jar-stand or |
[picture] | bag | g | g
[picture] | bread-loaf | t | t
[picture] | hobble | t | second t
[picture] | hand | d | d
[picture] | cobra | d | second d

These signs are among the most common of all Egyptian hieroglyphs; every text contains some of them, and most words were written with one or more of them—some words, only with them. Your first exercise should be to study this table until you can reproduce it and can give the transcription of each sign from memory.

The next table shows the British system of transcription (Br) and those of Budge (B), computer encoding (C), and that based on proto-Semitic (PS). It is given here only for reference; the computer system, however, is useful for working with internet sites.

| Br | B | C | Ps
[picture] | [picture] | a | A | [picture]
j | ỉ | ȧ | i | í,
y | y | ȧ, y | y | ï
[picture] | [picture] | ā | a | [picture]
w | w | u | w | w,
b | b | b | b | b
p | p | p | p | p
f | f | f | f | f
m | m | m | m | m
n | n | n | n | n
r | r | r | r | r
h | h | h | h | h
ḥ | ḥ | ḥ | H | ḥ
| Br | B | C | PS
ḫ | ḫ | χ,kh | x | ḫ
h | h | χ,kh | X | ḫ
z | s | s | z or s | s
s | ś | s | s | ś
š | š | š, sh | S | š
q | q | q | q | ḳ
k | k | k | k | k
g | ḳ | ḳ | g | g
t | t | t | t | t
t | t | θ, th | T | č
d | d | ṭ | d | ṭ
d | d | tˊ,tch | D | [picture]

2.4Sounds

It is important to remember that the transcription symbols are only a convention that Egyptologists use to represent the consonants of Middle Egyptian: they are not an accurate guide to the way those consonants actually sounded. We cannot know exactly how the consonants were pronounced, though we can make some educated guesses based on their Coptic descendants and on how Egyptian words were written in other ancient languages (and vice versa). The following list shows the sounds that most Egyptologists now think the consonants may actually have had in Middle Egyptian:

[picture] | A kind of l or r. This sound began to disappear from the spoken language already in the Old Kingdom. Most words simply lost the consonant, but in some cases, it was replaced by y or by a “glottal stop” (the catch in the throat at the beginning of the two vowels of “uh-oh”).
j | This is not actually a consonant, but a way to show that a syllable began or ended with a vowel, or that two vowels came together: for example, jrj “pertaining to,” representing *ári (* indicates a hypothetical reconstruction), and bjn “bad,“ representing *bá’in.
y | Like English y as in “yet.”
[picture] | A sound made deep in the throat, somewhat like the r of modern French and German. It exists in Hebrew and Arabic, as the consonant named “ayin.” In some dialects, may have sounded somewhat like English d as in deed, and in Middle Egyptian it may still have had that sound in some words.
w | Both a consonant, like English w as in wet, and a sign showing that a word ended in a vowel: for example, wbw “clean,” representing *wába.
b | Probably like English b as in bet. In some words (or dialects), it may have had a softer sound, like that of Spanish cabo (to approximate it in English, try pronouncing the word hobo without putting your lips completely together).
P | Like English p as in pet.
F | Like English f as in fat. In some words, perhaps like the sound at the beginning of German Pferd (an f sound that starts out as a p).
M | Like English m as in met.
N | In most cases like English n as in net. In some words, however, this consonant was pronounced like English l as in let.

r
Probably a “flapped” r as in Spanish pero, made with a single tap of the tongue against the roof of the mouth. To English speakers, this often sounds like d. In some words, r was pronounced like English l as in let. The dialect of the Fayum may have pronounced every r this way, as it did later in Coptic.

h | Like English h as in hot.
ḥ | A sound like English h but deeper in the throat. It exists in Arabic and Hebrew, and is similar to the sound made by someone breathing on their glasses before cleaning them.
ḫ | A sound like the ch in German ach or Scottish loch. To approximate it in English, try saying lock without closing your throat completely.
h | Like the preceding sound followed by y (try saying cue without closing your throat, or hue with a very strong h). In some words, this was pronounced like ḫ (without the y).

z/s
In Middle Egyptian, these two consonants were pronounced the same, like English s as in set. Originally, z was like English th as in think. Although z and s were essentially one consonant in Middle Egyptian, and could often be written interchangeably, it is important to learn the original spelling of words with these consonants, because they are often arranged separately in dictionaries, like the one in the back of this book (z comes before s).

š | Like English sh as in shot.
q | A kind of k, probably either like Arabic and Hebrew q (as deep in the throat as possible), or with some kind of “emphasis,” like q in some Ethiopic languages (a sound difficult to describe in English).
k | Like English k as in kite. In some words, probably also k followed by y, as in English Kew or (spelled with c instead of k) cue.
g | A sound somewhat like the g in English dagger. In some words, probably also followed by y, somewhat like English argue.
t | Like English t as in toe.
t | Like English t followed by y, as in the British pronunciation of tune. To many English speakers, this sounds the same as the ch in chew. To approximate it, try saying chew with the tip of the tongue instead of the flat part.
d | Like the t in US English matter or English d as in sadder.
d | The preceding sound followed by y, like the d in the British pronunciation of dune. To many English speakers, this sounds the same as the j in June. To approximate it, try saying June with the tip of the tongue instead of the flat part.

Before the introduction of the Coptic alphabet, Egyptian had no signs for specific vowels. From Coptic, however, Egyptologists have been able to determine that Middle Egyptian probably had three basic vowels: a (as in walk), i (as in bit or elite), and u (as in put or flu).

2.5Coptic

The sounds described in the previous section existed throughout most of the lifetime of ancient Egyptian. By the time the Coptic alphabet was introduced, however, some of them had disappeared while others, particularly the vowels, had changed. The table below shows the Coptic alphabet and the sounds that its letters probably represented in most dialects.

a | a (as in walk)
b | Egyptian b
g | k or g
d | t or d
e | e (like the vowel in duh)
z | s
h | e (as in met)
u | = tx
i, ei | i (as in bit) and y (as in yet)
k | k
l | l
m | m
n | n
3 | = ks
o | o (as in not)
p | p
r | r
s | s
t | Egyptian t and d
u, ou | w and u (as in flu)
v | = px
x | = kx
2 | = ps
w | o (as in note)
š | Egyptian š
f | f
x | h
j | Egyptian t and d
q | gy (as in argue)
+ | = ti

2.6Pronunciation

As you can see from the preceding sections, Egyptian and Coptic had many sounds that do not occur in English. Egyptologists normally pronounce the consonants with their closest English equivalents (only the most fastidious actually try to pronounce them as they think the ancients might have). Many consonants (b, p, f, m, n, r, h, s, k, g, t, d) are pronounced as they would be in English. The following table shows the way that most American Egyptologists pronounce the rest of the Egyptian consonants:²

[picture] | a as in ah—example: m “see,” pronounced “MAH-ah”
j | ee as in meet—example: bjt “bee,” pronounced “beet”
y | usually like ee as in meet—example: ky “other,” pronounced “kee”
[picture] | a as in ah—example: mt “order,” pronounced “MAH-aht”
w | at the beginning of a word like English w, otherwise usually like oo as in too—examples: wj “me,” pronounced “wee”; tw “you,” pronounced “too”
ḥ | like English h—example: ḥjmt “woman,” pronounced “HEE-met”
ḫ | if possible, like the kh sound in German ach or Scottish loch (most English speakers can make this sound with a little practice); otherwise, like English k—example: ḫw “appearance,” pronounced “KHAH-oo” or “KAH-oo”
h | the preceding sound followed by y—example: hy “thwart,” pronounced “KHYAH-ee” or “KYAH-ee”
z | like English z or s—example: zj “man,” pronounced “zee” or “see”
š | like English sh—example: šj “lake,” pronounced “shee”
q | like English k—example: qw “hill,” pronounced “KAH-ah-oo”
t | like English ch—example: tw “wind,” pronounced “CHAH-oo”
d | like English j—example: dj “cross,” pronounced “JAH-ee.”

Because hieroglyphs do not preserve the original vowels of Egyptian words, Egyptologists normally put a short e (as in met) where necessary between consonants other than , j, y, and w. Here is a short sentence in transcription, showing how most Egyptologists would pronounce it:

jnk | sdmw | r | wn | m | tm | dj | nm | n | nb | dbw
EE-nek | SEJ-em-oo | er | wen | MAH-ah | tem | dee | NEM-ah | En | Neb | jeb-AH-oo.

The sentence, which is from a Middle Egyptian autobiographical inscription (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 18–19), means “I am a proper judge, who does not give preference to the one who can pay.”

2.7Vocalization

To write Egyptian names or other words in English, Egyptologists do not normally use the transcription symbols. Instead, they use a system of vocalization based on the way Egyptian consonants are normally pronounced by English speakers. In this system, most of the consonants that are transcribed with regular English letters (b, p, f, m, n, r, h, z/s, q, k, g, t, d) are transcribed the same way, with an e inserted where needed: for example, “Men-nefer” for Egyptian mn-nfr (the ancient name of Memphis). The other consonants are represented as follows:

and | a—example: “Maat” (Egyptian mt, the name of a goddess)
j | i—example: “Izezi” (Egyptian jzzj, a 5th-Dynasty pharaoh)
y | y or i—example: “Pepy” or “Pepi” (Egyptian ppy, the name of a 6th-Dynasty pharaoh)
w | w or u—example: “Wenis” or “Unis” (Egyptian wnjs, the name of a pharaoh of the 5th Dynasty)
ḥ | h—example: “Heh” (Egyptian oeoe, ḥḥ the name of a god)
ḫ and h | kh—example: “Sekhemkhet” (Egyptian sḫm-ht, the name of a 3rd-Dynasty pharaoh)
š | sh—example: “Hatshepsut” (Egyptian ḥt-špswt, a female pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty)
t | tj—example: “Tjenenet” (Egyptian nnt, a place-name). British Egyptologists sometimes use the older transcription th (“Thenenet”).
d | dj—example: “Djeser-djeseru” (Egyptian dsr-dsrw, the name of a temple at Thebes). British Egyptologists sometimes use the older transcription z (“Zeser-zeseru”).

Besides these conventions, many vocalizations of Egyptian proper names use forms based on the ancient Greek pronunciation of those names, or on Coptic. This is particularly true for the names of pharaohs and gods. For example, most Egyptologists write the name of the goddess nbt-ḥwt (sister of Isis and Osiris) as “Nephthys,” from the Greek pronunciation, rather than as “Nebethut,” and the name of the god jmn as “Amun” (and “Amen” in compounds such as Amenhotep) rather than “Imen,” based on its Coptic pronunciation. Such vocalizations are not always consistent: the 12th-Dynasty pharaonic name z-n-wsrt, for example, has been vocalized as “Sesostris” (Greek) and “Senwosret” (based on Coptic), as well as “Senusret” (or, in older books, “Usertesen,” based on a misreading of the hieroglyphs as wsrt-z-n). This can be confusing for the beginner going from one publication to another. Unfortunately, there is no solution to the problem other than trying to remember the different vocalizations.

2.8Writing conventions and sound changes

Hieroglyphic writing normally showed all the consonants of a word. Sometimes, however, the consonants that appear in hieroglyphs do not always reflect the true consonants of a Middle Egyptian word. There are four main reasons why this could be the case.

1)Abbreviated spellings

A uniliteral sign is sometimes omitted to make a more compact grouping. Two examples of this are the words r(m)t “people” (with the determinative for “group of people”) and ḥ(n)qt “beer” (with a jar determinative). The signs for m and n were apparently left out of these words so that the others could be compactly grouped together. Despite their abbreviated spellings, we know that these words had an m and n because they are sometimes written in full and because their Coptic descendants, rwme, and xnke have those consonants.

2)Doubled consonants

When the same two consonants come together in a word, hieroglyphs regularly show only one of them. For example, the word qbb, meaning “become cool,” is written qb (with the determinatives of a jar and water) when the two b’s come together, as they do in the verb-form qb.s “it becomes cool” (representing *qabbás), but qbb when they are separated by a vowel, as in the verb-form qbb “to become cool” (representing *qabáb). Egyptologists normally transcribe what is actually written: for example, qb.s rather than qbb.s for

3)“Weak” consonants

The consonants , j, y, and w are known as “weak” consonants because they were often omitted in writing. This happens sometimes in the middle of words and often at the end: some examples are hb “send” ( or ), jrj “pertaining to” ( or ), šndyt “kilt” ( or ), and hrw “day” ( or ). Egyptologists are divided about how to represent the shorter spellings. Some transcribe the full spelling whether or not the weak consonants are shown, while others use only the consonants actually shown in hieroglyphs (e.g., in the shorter examples above: hb, jr, šndt, and hr). This book uses the full transcription, with any omitted consonants shown in parentheses: thus, for the examples above, hb and h()b, jrj and jr(j), šndyt and šnd(y)t, hrw and hr(w).

4)Sound changes

Because hieroglyphic spelling was conservative, Middle Egyptian words were often written as they had been in Old Egyptian, even when one or more of the consonants had changed over time. Sometimes, however, a scribe would use a spelling that reflected more closely how the word was actually pronounced in Middle Egyptian. These differences in spelling affect mostly the following consonants:

r
This consonant tended to disappear at the end of syllables or words. More conservative spellings still show the r sign, but others can omit it: for example, dr “subdue,” which is written or Sometimes a reed-leaf was used in place of the original r and once in a while the scribe combined the “traditional” and “modern” spellings by showing both the r and a reed-leaf

l
Hieroglyphic had no special sign for this sound, though it probably existed in many dialects of Middle Egyptian. To write it, scribes normally used or Words with the consonant l sometimes alternate between these two signs: for example, dlg “dwarf,” which could be written (dg), (dng), or even (dng). Because we cannot know for certain how or were pronounced in each word, Egyptologists usually transcribe these signs as and n, rather than l.

t | In Egyptian, feminine words usually ended in t (see Lesson 4). By the time of Middle Egyptian, this consonant had probably disappeared at the end of words. Conservative spellings still show it, but it can also be left out: for example, nbdt “braid,” also spelled nbd(t).
t | In some words, this sound had changed to t by Middle Egyptian. Spellings can show either the original consonant, or the Middle Egyptian one: for example, tw or tw “you.” Because of this sound change, Middle Egyptian scribes sometimes used the sign to write t: for example, tn for tn “this.”
d | In some words, this sound had changed to d by Middle Egyptian. Spellings can show either the original consonant, or the Middle Egyptian one: for example, dbt or dbt “brick.”

ESSAY 2. ANCIENT EGYPTIAN GEOGRAPHY

Hieroglyphic texts reflect the ancient Egyptian view of the world. Understanding these texts is not just a matter of translation: it also requires an appreciation of ancient Egyptian geography.

In the ancient Egyptian view, the world existed inside a kind of “bubble” surrounded by an infinite ocean. Life was possible because the atmosphere (Egyptian šw, the god Shu) kept the waters of the ocean (Egyptian nw or nnw, the god Nu or Nun) from falling on the earth, just as the air inside a balloon keeps it inflated. At the top of this world “bubble” was the sky (Egyptian pt; also nwt, the goddess Nut), which was seen as the surface of the infinite ocean where it met the atmosphere. In the middle was the earth itself (Egyptian t; also gbb, the god Geb), which was thought of as a flat plate of land. Religious documents contemporary with the “Book of the Dead” show this concept of the world in pictures of Geb reclining on his side, with Shu standing over him and holding up the body of Nut, who arches above both of them, touching the earth with her hands and feet (Fig. 1). The Egyptians also imagined that a similar space existed below the earth. This region was known as the Duat (Egyptian dwt); the sky at its bottom was the feminine counterpart of Nun, called Naunet (Egyptian nnwt).

Fig. 1. Egyptian view of the world (Papyrus of Nestanebtisheru, © The Trustees of the British Museum) Nut is arched over the recumbent body of Geb, with Shu holding her up, assisted by two gods.

Because the sky was water, the Egyptians imagined that it had marshes around its edge, like those of northern Egypt itself, near the Mediterranean Sea. In the middle was open water, dotted here and there by islands, including the great string of the Milky Way, which the Egyptians called the “Path of Sailing Stars” (msqt-sqdw).

Life inside the world was possible not only because of the atmosphere but also because of the sun (Egyptian r, the god Re or Ra). During the day, the sun sailed in his “day-boat” across the waters of the sky. At night he transferred to the “night-boat” and sailed through the Duat, across the waters of the under-sky, while the stars came out to sail across the sky above the earth. Each journey lasted twelve hours, making a full day twenty-four hours long—the ancestor of our twenty-four-hour day.

Between the day and night skies was a region known as the Akhet (Egyptian ḫt), into which the sun set before descending into the Duat, and into which he rose before appearing in the morning sky. The concept of the Akhet was a practical explanation of why light fades gradually after sunset and appears gradually before sunrise, instead of disappearing and reappearing with the sun all at once.

Egypt itself was the center of the ancient Egyptian world (Fig. 2, p. 28); the countries around it were called simply ḫswt “deserts.” Egypt’s southern border was at Aswan (Egyptian bw), about four hundred miles south of modern Cairo; beyond was the land of Nubia (from the ancient Egyptian word nbw “gold”). To the north lay the Mediterranean Sea, known to the Egyptians as the “Great Blue-Green” (wd-wr). For most of ancient Egyptian history, Egypt was largely a desert, as it is today: life is only possible in this land because of the Nile (known in Egyptian only as jtrw “the river”). Because the Nile flows from south to north, the southern part of Egypt is known as Upper Egypt, and the northern part as Lower Egypt. This reflects the Egyptians’ own view, in which south was “forward”: in Egyptian, the words for “left” and “east” are the same (jbt), and the word for “west” (jmnt) can also mean “right.”

Fig. 2. Map of Egypt, showing major sites mentioned in this book

The Egyptians had several names for their own country, including t-mr “canal-land” and kmt, “black” (in contrast to dšrt, the “yellow/red” of the desert), both of which refer to the agricultural land along the Nile. Often, however, Egypt was called twj “Two Lands.” This reflects the geographical division between Upper and Lower Egypt. To the south is the narrow Nile Valley (Egyptian šmw “Thin” or rsw “South”). Just north of modern Cairo (and ancient Memphis), the Nile branches out—nowadays into two branches, east and west, but in ancient times into seven. This region is known as the Delta; in ancient times it was largely marshland, and the Egyptians called it mḥw “Marsh.”

For most of Egyptian history, the political capital of the country was at Memphis (the Greek pronunciation of the Egyptian name mn-nfr), just south of modern Cairo. Egypt itself was divided administratively into districts, called “nomes” (Egyptian spt), each of which had its own capital and local government. At most, there were twentytwo nomes in Upper Egypt and twenty in Lower Egypt, but their number varied throughout history; there were probably fewer nomes in the Middle Kingdom than later. Egypt also had, as it still does, several large oases in its western desert (our word “oasis” comes from the Greek pronunciation of the Egyptian word wḥt “oasis”). The most important of these is known as the Fayum (the Arabic pronunciation of Egyptian p-ym “the lake”); it lies to the south of a large lake some forty miles southwest of modern Cairo and less than ten miles west of the Nile Valley. The other oases were relatively unimportant in ancient Egypt and were administered from the nomes closest to them.

EXERCISE 2

1.Each of the following words is written with uniliteral signs and one determinative. Transcribe them and put them in alphabetical order:

“sharp,” “stone,” “ship,” “booth,” “fat,” “spit,” “box,” “respect,” “boat,” “bird,” “sweat,” “falcon,” “young,” “crocodile,” “hill,” “daytime,” “minor,” “little,” “snake,” “gazelle,” “misery,” “time,” “thing,” “lift”

2.Pronounce the following transcriptions of Egyptian (from texts of Senwosret III inscribed at the Egyptian fort of Semna, in Nubia) (Sethe, Lesestücke, 83–84).

a)jnk nswt ddw jrrw (“I am a king whose words command action”).

b)jr gr m ḫt pḥ, ssḫm jb pw n ḫrwy (“As for keeping still after an attack, it is to encourage the heart of an enemy”).

c)qnt pw d, hzt pw ḥm-ḫt (“Aggression is bravery, retreat is misery”).

d)nj rmt js nt šft st, ḥwrw pw sdw jbw (“They are not a people to respect: they are wretches with broken spirits”).

e)srwd tš n wtt sw (“who makes firm the border of the one who begot him”).

f)r tm rdj zn sw nḥsj nb m ḫd m ḥrt (“to not let any Nubian pass it going north or overland”).

3.Give an English vocalization for the following proper names: (a) j-m-ḥtp, (b) mntwwsr, (c) nj-mt-r, (d) ḫ-m-wst, (e) qn-m-ḫpš, (f) dḥwtj-m-ḥt.

4.Give the Egyptian transcription for the following proper names (for “hat” and “hotep,” see question 3): (a) User-hat, (b) Meret-mut, (c) Amen-em-hat, (d) Amenhotep, (e) Senedjem-ib, (f) Tjenti.

1 Only at the end of a word.

2 Small capitals indicate where most Egyptologists put the main stress: generally on the second-last syllable. This is arbitrary, however. You can use whatever stress sounds best to you.

3.MULTILITERAL SIGNS

3.1Biliteral signs

Most of the uniliteral signs introduced in Lesson 2 seem to have been chosen on the basis of the “rebus principle” (see § 1.5). For example, the picture of a mouth was apparently chosen to represent the consonant r from the word for “mouth,” which was something like *ra’ (the pronunciation is deduced from the Coptic word ro “mouth”). The inventor (or inventors) of hieroglyphic writing ignored the vowels and concentrated only on the consonants. The sign for r could therefore be used not just for the sound ra but for the consonant r in any word, regardless of the vowels around it. By the same principle, we might choose to represent the consonant b in English words with the picture of a bee , and so write the words baa, be, by, bay, bow, boo, ebb, and oboe as , ignoring the vowels.

The rebus principle is not limited to single consonants. In an English rebus we might use the picture of a leaf to write not only the word leaf but also the second syllable of the word belief . If we ignored the vowels, we could use the same sign to write the words life, laugh, loaf, and elf as well. In doing so, we would be using to represent two consonants, l plus f. In the hieroglyphic system such signs are known as biliteral (“two-letter”). An example is the picture of a tree branch , which was used as a biliteral sign for ḫt, from the Egyptian word *ḫit or *ḫut “wood.”

Biliteral signs are among the most frequent of all hieroglyphs. There were nearly a hundred in common use. The table spread over the following two pages shows these signs, arranged in the order of their first consonant, reading down the table, and their second consonant, reading across. To find the biliteral sign ḫt, for example, scan down the first column to the ḫ row, then across to the t column.

As you can see from the table, not every possible combination of two consonants has a corresponding biliteral sign: there are none with the consonant f as the first or second consonant, and none with the consonants h, h, š, or g as the second consonant. Conversely, some two-consonant combinations have more than one sign. When this is the case, the different signs are generally used in different words. Some biliterals are very common, and are used in the writing of many different words. Others are less frequent, and are used to spell only one word or family of words. For example, the biliteral is used for ḫ in many words that have this two-consonant combination, while the sign is used for ḫ pretty much only in the word ḫ(w)t “offering table.” Some signs can also be used for more than one two-consonant combination: for example, the hieroglyph has the value b in some words and mr in others.

BILITERAL SIGNS (ENDING IN –r)

Notes:

a.There is some evidence that this sign is actually a triliteral (§ 3.4) with the value mḥr.

b.The second sign originally had the value dj.

c.Originally db.

d.The traditional transcription of these two signs, tp, is now known to be wrong.

BILITERAL SIGNS (ENDING IN ḥ–d)

Notes:

e.Also jt (see § 2.8.4).

f.Also d (see § 2.8.4).

g.Also pd (see § 2.8.4).

h.Often for dd.

3.2Phonetic complements

For the beginner, the sheer number of biliteral signs can be overwhelming. Because they are used so frequently, however, they must be learned in order to read hieroglyphic texts.¹ Fortunately, the hieroglyphic writing system itself offers some help in reading biliteral signs—now that you have memorized the uniliteral signs.

Although the biliterals could be used by themselves to write two-consonant words or two consonants of larger words, most often scribes wrote them together with uniliteral signs that “spell out” the biliterals. When used in this way, the uniliteral signs are called phonetic complements. In Middle Egyptian, phonetic complements are used mostly to “spell out” the second consonant of a biliteral. The “house” hieroglyph , for example, is regularly complemented by the uniliteral when it is used as the biliteral phonogram pr. The group is to be read pr, not prr: the sign isn’t supposed to be read in addition to but together with it. This is an important rule to remember: a uniliteral sign following a biliteral sign is almost always a phonetic complement and not an additional letter. To write prr, a scribe would use two signs . The only common exception to this rule is the sign : when used as a biliteral (jr) it normally has no phonetic complement ; the group normally represents jrr.

Although most biliterals in Middle Egyptian are written with a phonetic complement indicating their second consonant, a few also can have one for their first consonant. In those cases, the biliteral sign normally occurs between the two complements (for example, b), though sometimes it can precede one or both of them: for example, wd and mr. Here again, the complements are meant to be read with the biliteral, not in addition to it: thus, the group , for example, is to be read b, not bb, represents wd rather than wdw, and is to be read mr, not mrmr.

Phonetic complements are a handy aid to reading hieroglyphs, since they offer a clue to the consonants that the biliteral stands for. For the few signs with more than one biliteral value, the complements also indicate which value is meant: thus, is to be read mr, but stands for b. The table above has been arranged to help you look up the value of a biliteral sign based on its phonetic complements. To find the value of , for example, look down the column (answer: ḫ); to find the value of look across the t row (answer: tm).

3.3Phonograms as ideograms

Since the biliteral signs are all pictures of objects, they can also be used as ideograms to write the words for those objects. When used this way in Middle Egyptian, the biliterals normally have no phonetic complements and usually are written with a stroke: for example, “house” or “mace.” The stroke is a signal meaning “read the sign for what it represents, not for how it sounds.” The same convention is used with some of the uniliteral signs: for instance, “mouth.”

As you might expect, the ideograms normally have the same consonants as the uniliteral or biliteral signs (which is how the signs got to be used as phonograms in the first place). Thus, the word for “house” is pr, “mace” is ḥd, and “mouth” is r. Since this is so, we can say that the signs are still used as phonograms even when they are also used as ideograms. The difference is one of range: ideograms refer to one and only one word, while phonograms can normally be used in many words, which have nothing at all to do with the object that the sign represents. When used as an ideogram, the sign , for example, refers only to the word “mace,” which happens to have the consonants ḥd; as a phonogram, however, it can occur in many words, such as ḥdw “onions” (with the determinative of a plant) and sḥd “brighten” (with the determinative of the sun), which happen to have the same two consonants ḥd.

3.4Triliteral signs

In addition to uniliteral and biliteral phonograms, there are also hieroglyphic signs that represent three consonants; these are called triliteral (“three-letter”) signs. Like biliterals, triliteral signs were often written with phonetic complements to “spell out” all or part of their value. An example is the hieroglyph , which represents a sandal-strap. This sign could be used as an ideogram to write the word “sandal-strap” . In Egyptian, this word has three consonants, nḫ. The same three consonants, however, also appear in the verb “live” (nḫ). For that reason (and not because living has anything to do with sandal-straps), the sign was also used as a phonogram in writing this verb and words related to it: for example, or “live” and “life” (nḫ), “cause to live, nourish” (snḫ), and “the living” (nḫw, with the determinative for a group of people). This use of the hieroglyph is actually much more common than its use as an ideogram, for obvious reasons: people tend to talk about life more than they do about sandal-straps, even in ancient Egypt.

Triliteral signs are just about as frequent as the uniliteral and biliteral hieroglyphs. The following list shows most of these signs, arranged alphabetically:

As you can see from this list, some triliteral signs can have more than one value, just like some biliterals. Unlike the biliterals, however, most triliteral phonograms were limited to spellings of only one word and its relatives. Most of the Egyptian words with the consonants nḫ, for instance, have something to do with “life” (except for nḫ “sandal-strap”), even if the connection is not immediately obvious: the word nḫ “oath” (with the determinative of a speaking man), for example, comes from the fact that, in Egyptian, oaths began with a form of the verb nḫ “live.” For this reason it is not as important to memorize the triliteral signs: you can learn them as you learn the words they are used to write.

3.5Summary

In this lesson and the two preceding ones, you have learned about the three different ways in which hieroglyphs can be used to write Egyptian words:

1)as ideograms (“idea writing,” also called logograms “word writing”)—using the signs to write the word for the object they depict: pr “house.” In Middle Egyptian, ideograms are usually written with just the one hieroglyph and a stroke.

2)as phonograms (“sound writing”)—using the signs to represent the consonants of words rather than pictures of objects. Phonograms can represent one (uniliteral), two (biliteral), or three (triliteral) consonants, and are used in writing many words that have nothing at all to do with the objects that are pictured in the hieroglyphs themselves. Biliteral and triliteral signs are often “complemented” by one or more uniliteral signs, usually representing the last one or two consonants of the multiliteral phonograms. In most cases, the phonetic complements are meant to be read with the sign they complement, not in addition to it: for example, b (not bb), nḫ (not nḫnḫ).

3)as determinatives—one or more signs added at the end of a word to indicate the general idea of the word: for example, pr “emerge,” where the “walking legs” determinative indicates that this is a word having to do with motion; and nḫ “oath,” where the sign of a man with his hand to his mouth shows that this is a word having to do with the use of the head. Determinatives also serve to indicate that the signs preceding them are to be read as phonograms rather than ideograms. Since hieroglyphic writing does not separate words by spaces, determinatives are a useful guide to knowing where one word ends and the next one begins.

These three uses of hieroglyphs mean that an Egyptian word could only be written in two ways: either as an ideogram, or with phonograms. Writing with ideograms, of course, was only possible for words that could actually be pictured (such as “house”). Since there were about five hundred hieroglyphs in common use, only about the same number of words could theoretically be written this way; in practice, however, the number was much less, since not all hieroglyphs seem to have been actually used as ideograms. The rest of the 17,000 or so known Egyptian words had to be written with phonograms.

Contrary to popular belief (and the opinion of scholars before hieroglyphs were deciphered), writing with ideograms was therefore the exception, rather than the rule. Even words that we might imagine could have been written with an ideogram often used phonograms instead. The verb “speak,” for example, theoretically could have been written , using the hieroglyph of a man with his hand to his mouth. But this hieroglyph seems to have been used in Middle Egyptian only as a determinative; the verb “speak” was always written with the phonograms (dd)—sometimes with the determinative , but more often without it. This is why it is so important to memorize the uniliteral and biliteral phonograms: they are the backbone of the hieroglyphic system.

Determinatives were normally used only for words written with phonograms, for obvious reasons (there is no need to add the determinative to the word pr “house,” for example). Besides their practical value, determinatives can add a nuance to the hieroglyphic writing of a word that is often impossible to capture with a single word in translation. The word mjwt “mother,” for example, is normally written as , with the determinative of a woman (the first sign, representing a vulture, is a triliteral phonogram mwt, followed by the phonetic complement t).² When the “mother” in question is a goddess, however, the word can be written as , with the “divine” determinative of a falcon on a standard: even though the hieroglyphs still represent only the single Egyptian word mjwt, the nuance added by this determinative requires two words in translation, “divine mother.”

Despite the usefulness of determinatives, however, not every word spelled with phonograms has one. Some “small” words, such as prepositions m “in,” r “to”), never have determinatives; and a few of the more common words, such as dd “speak” and nḫ “live,” are often written without these signs as well. Texts written in cursive hieroglyphs or hieratic tend to have more determinatives than do carved or painted hieroglyphic inscriptions, since the effort required to make an additional sign is much less in handwriting than in carving or painting. For the same reason, handwritten texts also tend to use more phonetic complements.

3.6Non-standard spelling

Even though it was often “written in stone,” hieroglyphic spelling was not fixed. Scribes could add or omit phonetic complements and determinatives, and some words could be written either with ideograms or phonograms. You should not expect to find the same word spelled the same way in every text, or even in the same text. No matter how they were spelled, however, the Egyptian words themselves remained the same, just as the English spellings “love,” “luv,” and even “♥” all represent the same word. This is one reason why Egyptologists use transcription, to show the words represented by the hieroglyphs, regardless of their hieroglyphic spelling.

Whatever their use, hieroglyphs themselves were still pictures, and because of that characteristic scribes could sometimes play with the hieroglyphic writing of words. For example, the name of the goddess Hathor, ḥwt-ḥrw, which means “Horus’s Enclosure,” is often written as , with the falcon representing the god Horus actually shown inside an enlarged version of the hieroglyph for “enclosure” . Some spellings of hieroglyphic words can be even more playful. The preposition m-hnw “inside” (literally, “in the interior”) is usually written in straightforward fashion as (with the “house” determinative), but scribes sometimes wrote it with the signs instead; this derives from an ancient Egyptian pun: the signs are to be read mw “water” hr “under” nw “pot,” and this sounded similar to the word for “inside”: mw-h(r)-nw = m-hnw.

Although it tended to be conservative in spelling, hieroglyphic wasn’t a frozen system. Scribes seem to have been aware of its underlying principles, and from time to time they used these to invent new spellings. These could involve new uses of older hieroglyphs, like the pun for m-hnw, or completely new ideograms or determinatives: the word mry “beloved,” for instance, is normally written with phonograms , but in one text the scribe replaced it with a new ideogram, the picture of a man touching a woman . In Ptolemaic and Roman times, the fad for new and clever spellings was so popular that the hieroglyphic system itself was practically reinvented; one text even consists mostly of crocodile signs, each of which is to be read differently. These later texts are much more difficult to read than most hieroglyphic inscriptions, even for specialists.

3.7Transcription symbols

Besides the letters introduced in Lesson 2, Egyptologists also use a number of symbols in transcribing hieroglyphic texts:

( )Parentheses are used to add words or parts of words that aren’t represented in the hieroglyphs but were part of the word nonetheless. They are mostly used to show the “weak” consonants, which are often omitted in hieroglyphs. Examples: h()b, r(m)t (see § 2.8).

[ ]Square brackets show words or parts of words missing in hieroglyphs. Unlike parentheses, square brackets are used for parts of a hieroglyphic inscription that were once present but have become damaged or broken away. If Egyptologists can be fairly certain what the missing words were, they restore them between square brackets; if not, they use three dots (called an “ellipsis”) between the brackets. Examples: sw hr t [n] mw, t [ … ] n n mw (Helck, HBT, 94).

┌ ┐Half brackets enclose words or parts of words for which Egyptologists think the original scribe used the wrong hieroglyph; example: ┌s┐w (for ). They can also be used to indicate restorations of missing text that are considered likely but uncertain.

〈 〉Pointed brackets are used to add words or parts of words that aren’t represented in the hieroglyphs and which Egyptologists think were left out by mistake; example: jn〈ḥ〉wj.

This book uses small capitals to transcribe names that are enclosed in cartouches; example: JMN-M-ḤT “Amenemhat.” A dash is sometimes used to link compound words, such as the three parts of this name (which means “Amun-in-front”).

Most Egyptologists also use a dot in transcription. Many words that the Egyptians pronounced as a single word actually consist of several elements, and the dot is used to separate these elements to make them easier for us to recognize. For example, the word dd.n.f “he has spoken,” consists of three elements: the verb dd “speak”; the consonant n, a mark of completed action; and f, the pronoun “he.” The dot is usually pronounced like “e” as in met: i.e., “JED-en-ef ” (rather than “JED-nef ”). You will learn more about the use of the dot in subsequent lessons.

ESSAY 3. ANCIENT EGYPTIAN SOCIETY

Ancient Egypt was a layered society, with a thin veneer of bureaucracy on top of a vast underlayer of peasants and craftsmen. With few exceptions we know very little about the “common people” of this society. Most of the art and inscriptions we have was produced for royal monuments, temples, and the tombs of pharaohs and their officials. The other members of Egyptian society have left us very little of their lives. They probably were not taught to read and write, and could not afford to be buried in inscribed tombs or coffins. The houses and villages in which they lived—built for the most part of mud-brick—are largely buried under the towns and fields of modern Egypt, and so have not been excavated. The picture we have of ancient Egypt therefore reflects the lives of perhaps only ten percent of its population. Nonetheless, we can be fairly certain that the outlook and values of this elite are fairly representative of Egyptian society as a whole. The texts themselves often tell us as much, and Egyptian history is full of examples of people who rose from humble beginnings to become important members of the bureaucracy.

The ancient Egyptians divided their world into three classes of sentient beings: the gods ( ntrw), the akhs ( ḫjw), and the living ( nḫw). The gods were the original forces and elements of nature, whose wills and actions governed all life (see Essay 4). The akhs were the spirits of those who had died and made the successful transition to life after death (see Essay 5). They did not live in some heavenly paradise, but in this world, among the living. After spending the night asleep in their tombs, the akhs would wake each morning at sunrise and “come forth by day” to enjoy an ideal life, free from the cares of physical existence. Because they were spirits, they existed on the same level as the gods, and shared many of the gods’ powers.

At the apex of the living stood the pharaoh. It was his responsibility to maintain order within Egypt and to keep Egypt’s enemies at bay, so that all Egyptians could enjoy a peaceful life. It is a common misperception that the Egyptians considered their pharaoh a god. This is only partly true. The Egyptians knew that the pharaoh was a human being, who had been born and would one day die. But unlike the rest of humanity, the pharaoh also possessed a divine power, because his will and actions could cause enormous changes in society, just like those of the gods.

This dual nature is reflected in two Egyptian words. When referring to the king’s divine power, texts use the word nswt ( —for the spelling, see § 4.15), usually translated “king.” It is the nswt, for example, who issues decrees, appoints officials, and represents Egypt before the gods. When referring to the individual who happened to hold this divine power, the Egyptians used the word ḥm . It is usually translated “Majesty” but it really means something like “incarnation”: the ḥm is the individual in whom the divine power of kingship is incarnated. This term is used not only in referring to the king (ḥm.f “His Incarnation”), but also in addressing the king (ḥm.k “Your Incarnation”), and even by the king in referring to himself (ḥm.j “My Incarnation”). The two terms are sometimes combined in one phrase: for example, ḥm n nswt-bjt NB-K “the Incarnation of the Dual King Nebka” (Westc. 3, 15)—which actually means “the incarnation of kingship (in the person called) Nebka” (for the title nswt-bjt, see Essay 6). The king was also called “pharaoh.” This is the Hebrew pronunciation of the Egyptian term pr- (*paraó, meaning “Big House.” It originally referred to the royal estate but after the Middle Kingdom it came to be used of the king himself, in the same way that “the White House” can refer to the President of the United States.

Unlike ordinary Egyptians, pharaohs normally had several wives, only one of whom (at a time) was the “Chief Queen” (ḥjmt-nswt wrt, literally “senior king’s-wife”). These women often came from powerful families of the aristocracy, and their marriage to the king was a way for the pharaoh to ensure the support of his nobility. For similar reasons, pharaohs sometimes accepted the daughters of foreign kings as secondary wives. Once a dynasty had been established, a pharaoh often married his half-sister (daughter of the previous pharaoh by a different mother)—rarely his full sister—in order to keep the succession to the throne within the immediate royal family.

Below the pharaoh, Egypt was organized into a large, complex bureaucracy, with officials who governed all aspects of Egyptian society on the national and local level. The national administration was headed by the vizier, t(tj). Local government was usually organized by nomes (see Essay 2), and during the early Middle Kingdom these were headed by rulers known as nomarchs (“NOME-arks”). Egyptian officials viewed their rank and official responsibilities as signs of success in life, and their inscriptions record their accumulated titles in great detail. There were two kinds of Egyptian titles, defining an official’s status in the nobility (often in terms of his closeness to the king) and his actual bureaucratic responsibilities. The most common examples of the former are (j)r(j)-p(t) “member of the elite”; ḥt(j)-, meaning something like “high official” (literally, “whose arm is in front”); smr-wt(j) “courtier” (literally, “unique associate”); and ḫtmt(j)-bjt(j) “royal sealer.” Relatively few Egyptians rose high enough in the bureaucracy to gain such indications of rank. Titles of responsibility were much more common. Many of them used the word jmj-r “overseer” (written or followed by the domain of responsibility; these ranged from the greatest general (jmj-r mš wr “chief overseer of the army”) to the humblest jmj-r šw “overseer of pigs.”

The great mass of untitled Egyptians was known as the rḫyt “subjects.” Most of them were farmers, laborers, and craftsmen. Egyptian society included not only native Egyptians but people of all origins. Like modern America, ancient Egypt was a melting-pot of people from many different lands, including nḥs(j)w “Nubians” and mw “Asiatics.” The open nature of Egyptian society could include such immigrants as long as they offered allegiance to the pharaoh and became useful members of society (Fig. 3). Many foreigners who were first brought to Egypt as the spoils of war, to serve in the households of high officials, later became members of Egyptian families through adoption or marriage. The Egyptians were conscious of differences in skin color and other physical characteristics—painted images show Egyptian men with red skin and women with yellow skin (presumably to indicate less frequent exposure to the sun)—but as far as we can tell, the Egyptians did not base any of their social relations on physical characteristics alone.

Fig. 3. Minoans (top) and Nubians bringing tribute
(Davies, Tomb of Rekhmire, pl. 20)

Women in ancient Egypt were legally equal to men, but they confined their activities to their households and household industries, such as weaving. Women did not serve as officials. With few exceptions, the only woman’s title was nbt-pr “mistress of the house”; this did not mean merely “housewife,” but “manager of the household estate.” Except for the pharaoh, Egyptian men normally did not marry within their immediate families, and had only one wife at a time. A wife was often called the “sister” ( snt) of her husband, but not because they had the same parents: instead, the term was one of affection, indicating that the family relationship between husband and wife by marriage was as close as that between real brother and sister.

EXERCISE 3

Transcribe the following words (determinatives are explained in parentheses).

  1. “Amun” (god)

  2. “blessing” (speak, think)

  3. “head, above”

  4. “secret” (abstract)

  5. “build” (effort)

  6. “go”

  7. “he, him”

  8. “under”

  9. “appear”

10. “face, over”

11. “the above” (sky)

12. “feed” (use the mouth)

13. “all”

14. “companion” (man)

15. “likeness”

16. “great”

17. “exist”

18. “enter” (motion)

19. “big”

20. “come”

21. “stop” (motion)

22. “pyramid” (pyramid)

23. “Orion” (star)

24. “fetch”

25. “beloved”

26. “new” (abstract)

27. “who gives birth”

28. “witness” (accuracy and speak)

29. “interior” (house)

30. “forceful”

31. “wipe” (effort)

32. “place” (place)

33. “hair” (hair)

34. “take” (force)

35. “give”

36. “fluid” (effluent)

37. “ear” (ear)

38. “stable, steady” (abstract)

39. “staff ” (wood)

40. “plow” (plow)

41. “arrow” (arrow)

42. “wild”

43. “brighten” (sun)

44. “bring to mind” (think)

45. “take away” (force)

46. “fear” (emotion)

47. “gate” (house)

48. “seed” (seed)

49. “water”

50. “ball” (ball)

51. “eye”

52. “heart”

53. “ferry” (boat)

54. “naked” (cloth)

55. “conceive” (pregnant woman)

56. “narrow” (bad)

57. “son” (man)

58. “daughter” (woman)

59. “snake” (snake)

60. “tomb” (house)

61. “tongue” (flesh)

62. “swim” (water)

63. “skin” (skin)

64. “widow” (woman)

65. “give”

66. “pass” (path, motion)

67. “bow”

68. “form” (mummy)

69. “perish” (bad)

70. “black” (hair)

71. “empty” (bad)

72. “protection” (abstract)

73. “pound” (pounding)

74. “eternity” (time)

75. “stela” (stela)

76. “hack” (hoe, effort)

77. “strength” (force)

78. “what is done”

1 A good method for doing so is to prepare a set of flash cards with which you can drill yourself. There are also a number of websites with computerized flash cards.

2 Although it is written with the triliteral mwt, the word for “mother” has an unwritten j as its second consonant.

4.NOUNS

4.1Definitions

Nouns are words that languages use to designate things. The things can be real or imaginary objects (cat, dragon), concepts (happiness, telekinesis) and actions (talking, mindreading), and even words themselves (the word “this”). Nouns that refer to objects can be general enough to apply to many different things (country, goddess) or specific enough to refer to only one thing (Egypt, Isis); the latter are called “proper nouns” and in English are regularly capitalized.

4.2Parts of nouns

The English nouns member, members, membership, and non-member all have in common the word member. This word is called the “root” of these five nouns. The noun member itself consists only of the root; the others are formed by adding things to this root: the ending s for the plural, the ending ship to give the meaning “group of members” or “quality of being a member,” and the prefix non to indicate the opposite of member.

Egyptian nouns are built up in the same way, of roots and additions. Some consist only of the root, while others have one or more prefixes, endings, or suffixes. In this lesson we will learn about noun roots and the endings used to indicate gender and number.

4.3Roots

As in English, the root of an Egyptian noun is simply the part that all related nouns have in common. In the words ntr “god,” ntrw “gods,” ntrt “goddess,” and ntrj “divine,” for example, the root is ntr and the other parts are endings added to the root. Most Egyptian roots consist of two or three consonants, but some have as many as five consonants.

4.4Gender

Egyptian has two grammatical genders, masculine and feminine. All Egyptian nouns must be one or the other. Masculine nouns are used for things that are naturally male, such as sn “brother,” but also for things that have no inherent gender, such as t “land.” Similarly, feminine nouns are used for things that are naturally female but also for things that have no inherent gender: snt “sister,” njwt “town.” In this respect, Egyptian is like Italian, in which all nouns must also be masculine or feminine

It is usually easy to tell which gender an Egyptian noun is: with very few exceptions, all feminine nouns have the ending t added to the root: for example, snt “sister” (root sn “sibling”). Masculine nouns often have no special ending, though some have the ending j or w added to the root: examples are sn “brother,” ḫftj “enemy,” and ḥfw “snake.”

It is important to keep in mind that the feminine t is an added ending, not part of the root. (To mark this difference, some Egyptologists separate the feminine ending from the root by a dot in transcription: sn.t.) A few masculine nouns, however, have t as their last consonant; the most common example is ḫt “wood.” In this case, t is a part of the root, not an ending.

Some Egyptian nouns are naturally masculine or feminine; these follow the same rule as other nouns: examples are jtj “father” and mjwt “mother.” Egyptian also had many pairs of masculine and feminine nouns. The feminine counterpart of a masculine noun is made by adding the feminine ending t to the root, not to the masculine noun (even though that often appears to be the case, since many masculine nouns have the same form as the root). Here are some examples of such pairs:

sn “brother” | snt “sister” | (root sn)
ḥq() “(male) ruler” | ḥq()t “female ruler” | (root ḥq)
ntr “god” | ntrt “goddess” | (root ntr)
ḫftj “(male) enemy” | ḫftt “female enemy” | (root ḫft)
ḥfw “(male) snake” | ḥft “(female) snake” | (root ḥf).

There are very few exceptions to this general pattern of masculine and feminine nouns. The most important has to do with the very common feminine noun ḫt “thing” (originally jḫt, not the same as masculine ḫt “wood”). When this noun refers to an actual thing, it has the meaning “thing” or “property,” and is feminine. But it can also be used with the more general meaning “something, anything” and in that case it tends to be masculine. Another exception has to do with proper names of places, such as countries and towns: these are often treated as feminine, regardless of their ending— because ḫst “country” and njwt “town” are feminine.

4.5Number

Besides gender, nouns can also indicate whether they refer to one thing or more than one. This property is called “number.” Modern English nouns have two numbers, singular and plural. Middle Egyptian nouns can also be singular or plural.

In English, nouns normally refer to only one thing (singular) unless they are specially marked to show that they refer to more than one (plural). Plural marking is fairly complicated in English: most nouns simply add s (ruler, rulers), but some add es (wish, wishes), others add en (ox, oxen), still others change their form (mouse, mice), and some don’t change at all (one sheep, forty sheep).

As in English, Egyptian nouns normally are singular unless they are marked otherwise. Unlike English, Egyptian has a very simple rule for marking the plural: masculine nouns add w to the noun, feminine nouns add wt to the root (i.e., in place of the feminine singular ending t). To illustrate this rule, here are the plural forms of the noun pairs from the preceding section:

sn “brother” → snw “brothers” | snt “sister” → snwt “sisters”
ḥq “ruler” → ḥqw “rulers” | ḥqt “ruler” → ḥqwt “rulers”
ntr “god” → ntrw “gods” | ntrt “goddess” → ntrwt “goddesses”
ḫftj “enemy” → ḫftjw “enemies” | ḫftt “enemy” → ḫftwt “enemies”
ḥfw “snake” → ḥfww “snakes” | ḥft “snake” → ḥfwt “snakes.”

This rule is absolutely consistent in Egyptian: all nouns form their plurals by it, without exception. The rule can also be stated as follows: All Egyptian nouns mark the plural by means of w; masculine nouns add it to the end of the noun, feminine nouns add it before the feminine ending t.

4.6Writing the plural

Although the Egyptian rule for forming plural nouns is consistent, the way in which plurals are shown in hieroglyphs is not so rigid. The w that distinguishes the plural from the singular is a “weak” consonant (see § 2.8), and is often omitted in writing. Middle Egyptian texts almost never indicate the plural just by writing this ending. The most frequent way of marking the plural is by adding three short strokes to the singular as a final, extra determinative. These “plural strokes” can be written horizontally ( or ), vertically ( or ), or grouped ( or ), depending on the scribe’s preference and the shape of the surrounding signs; dots could be used instead of strokes , etc.). Masculine nouns sometimes write the plural ending in addition to this determinative; feminine nouns almost always use just the determinative. Here are hieroglyphic writings of the plurals from the preceding section:

snw “brothers” | snwt “sisters”
ḥq()w “rulers” | ḥq()wt “female rulers”
ntrw “gods” | ntrwt “goddesses”
ḫftjw “enemies” | ḥftwt “female enemies”
ḥfww “snakes” | ḥfwt “female snakes.”

The plural determinative actually replaces an older way of showing the plural, which was to write the determinative of the singular noun three times, sometimes even the word itself three times: for example, ḥqw “rulers,” snwt “sisters,” ntrw “gods.” In Middle Egyptian this archaic system is hardly ever used, except in religious texts. The plural ntrw “gods,” however, is normally written rather than with the plural determinative.

The plural determinative has two qualities. On the one hand, it indicates that the preceding noun refers to more than one thing; on the other, it shows that the preceding noun has an ending w (masculine) or wt (feminine). For this reason, plural strokes are sometimes used with words that aren’t real plurals. In the word rḫyt “subjects,” for example, plural strokes are used because the word refers to a group of people, even though the noun itself is singular (like “population” in English); such nouns are known as “collectives.” The abstract noun nfrw “perfection,” on the other hand, is written with plural strokes because it ends in w, even though the w is a masculine singular ending here (as it is in ḥfw “snake”) and not a plural: the noun is singular (as it is in English). Such writings are often called “false plurals.”

4.7The dual

Although hieroglyphic writing used three strokes to mark the plural, plural nouns can refer to any number of things, not only three. To indicate just two things, however, ancient Egyptian had another form of the noun, called the “dual.” Like the plural, the dual is marked by special endings: wj for masculine nouns, and j for feminine nouns. For both genders, the ending is added to the singular form of the noun; examples:

sn “brother” → snwj “two brothers” | snt “sister” → sntj “two sisters”
ḥq “ruler” → ḥqwj “two rulers” | ḥqt “ruler” → ḥqtj “two rulers”
ntr “god” → ntrwj “two gods” | ntrt “goddess” → ntrtj “two goddesses”
ḫftj “enemy” → ḫftjwj “two enemies” | ḫftt “enemy” → ḫfttj “two enemies”
ḥfw “snake” → ḥfwwj “two snakes” | ḥft “snake” → ḥftj “two snakes.”

The normal way of writing the dual in Middle Egyptian was to show the ending; the “weak” consonant j was often omitted, but when it was shown it was usually written with the sign :

masculine –wj: | feminine –tj: or , also or .

Dual nouns could also be indicated by the older system of doubling the determinative or by writing the singular twice. In Middle Egyptian this archaic practice was more common for duals than for plurals. Representative hieroglyphic spellings of the duals above are:

snwj “two brothers” | sntj “two sisters”
ḥq()wj “two rulers” | ḥq()tj “two female rulers”
ntrwj “two gods” | ntrtj “two goddesses”
ḫftjwj “two enemies” | ḫfttj “two female enemies”
ḥfwwj “two snakes” | ḥftj “two female snakes.”

As with writings of the plural, hieroglyphic also has some examples of “false duals.” The most common example occurs for the word njwtj “local” (from njwt “town”): since this word had the same consonantal form (though perhaps not the same pronunciation) as njwtj “two towns,” it was often written as a dual .

4.8Summary of gender and number

All Egyptian nouns indicate both gender (masculine or feminine) and number (singular, plural, or dual). The markings for these features are:

MASCULINE |  |
singular | ROOT | example: sn “brother” (root sn)
| ROOT + j | example: ḫftj “enemy” (root ḫft)
| ROOT + w | example: ḥfw “snake” (root ḥf)
plural | SINGULAR + w | examples: snw, ḫftjw, ḥfww
dual | SINGULAR + wj | examples: snwj, ḫftjwj, ḥfwwj
FEMININE |  |
singular | ROOT + t | examples: snt, ḫftt, ḥft
plural | ROOT + wt | examples: snwt, ḫftwt, ḥfwt
dual | SINGULAR + j | examples: sntj, ḫfttj, ḥftj

As with the feminine ending, some Egyptologists separate the plural and dual endings by a dot in transcription: for example, ḥq “ruler,” ḥq.w “rulers,” ḥq.wj “two rulers,” ḥq.t “female ruler,” ḥq.wt “female rulers,” ḥq.tj “two female rulers.” In this book, the dot is used only to separate prefixes and suffixes (which we will learn about later), not endings. You may want to use the dot before the gender and number endings in your own transcriptions, however, to help you remember the endings and how they are attached to nouns.

4.9Defined and undefined nouns

By themselves, all nouns except proper nouns refer to classes of things rather than to specific individuals: the noun snake, for instance, can be applied to any serpent. When they are used in sentences, however, nouns are usually defined or undefined.

Defined nouns can refer to only one specific thing or (if they are plural) one specific group of things. Proper names, by nature (§ 4.1), are always defined. Other nouns can be defined in a number of different ways: in English, for example, by a possessive pronoun (“her snake”) or a demonstrative (“those snakes”). Undefined nouns can refer to any number of things from the same class. The following sentences illustrate the difference between defined and undefined nouns:

Jack won’t eat snake means that Jack won’t eat any snake (undefined).

Jack won’t eat her snake means only that Jack isn’t interested in consuming one particular snake (defined): he might eat someone else’s, however.

Jill doesn’t like snakes means that Jill dislikes all snakes (undefined).

Jill doesn’t like those snakes means only that Jill is averse to a particular group of snakes (defined): she might actually like other snakes, or snakes in general.

In English, the most common way to indicate whether a noun is defined or undefined is by the definite article the or the indefinite article a (also an, plural some or any): Jack won’t eat the snake, Jill doesn’t like any snakes.

Egyptian nouns are also usually defined or undefined when they are used in sentences. Egyptian uses many of the same methods as English to mark these uses, such as possessive pronouns and demonstratives for defined nouns, and words like any for undefined nouns; we will meet these in subsequent lessons. Unlike English, however, standard Middle Egyptian had no definite or indefinite articles. A noun such as ḥfw can mean “the snake,” “a snake,” or just “snake.” The absence of words for “the” and “a” may seem confusing at first, but you will soon find that it presents no problem in reading most Egyptian sentences. Some modern languages, such as Russian, also have no definite or indefinite articles, and do quite well without them.

Although standard Middle Egyptian had no articles, there is some evidence that the spoken language did. They turn up from time to time in nonstandard texts, and by the time of Late Egyptian had become a regular part of the written language as well. We will come back to them in the next lesson.

4.10Noun phrases

Nouns are always single words, whether those words themselves are singular or not. Most languages, including English, have ways to put two nouns together in order to refer to a thing that has both nouns in common. Examples in English are milkman, which is formed from the nouns milk and man and refers to a man that delivers milk; and milk bottle, which refers to a container for milk. The result of joining nouns in this way is called a “compound noun” or a “noun phrase” (a phrase is two or more words).

Middle Egyptian also has noun phrases. These are used to express three different relationships between the two nouns: apposition, connection, and possession. We will see how these work in the next three sections.

4.11Apposition

The word “apposition” means simply “side by side.” Nouns are said to be “in apposition” when both are used together to refer to the same thing. An English example is our friend, the dog. In many cases of apposition, one of the nouns is general and the other is a proper noun (see § 4.1): Queen Anne, the pharaoh Ramesses II, God the father. As in English, two Egyptian nouns can be in apposition: z.k ḥrw “your son, Horus.” Many cases of Egyptian apposition involve titles followed by a proper name: for example, zhw r-ms “scribe Ramose.”

4.12Connection

In English, two nouns can be connected in a phrase by the word and, as in salt and pepper, Jack and Jill. They can also be linked by the word or, as in coffee or tea. In these kinds of phrases, known as conjunction or coordination (and) and disjunction (or), the two nouns do not refer to the same thing (unlike apposition).

Middle Egyptian had no word for “and.” Conjunction is normally expressed just by one noun following the other: t ḥ(n)qt (Siut I, 289) “bread and beer” (literally, “bread, beer”). Sometimes, however, the words ḥn “together with” or ḥr “upon” can be used to link the two nouns: ḥtj ḥn zm (Ebers 99, 13) “the heart and the lungs” (literally, “heart together with lungs”), d ḥr ḥyt (Westc. 11, 14) “stormwind and rain” (literally, “stormwind upon rain”).

Disjunction, too, is expressed usually just by putting one noun after the other: db sḥ (Hearst med. 12, 1) “a finger or a toe” (literally, “finger, toe”). Occasionally, however, it is marked more clearly by putting the phrase r-pw (meaning something like “whichever”) after the second noun: db sḥ r-pw (Ebers 78, 6–7) “a finger or a toe” (literally, “finger, toe, whichever”).

4.13Possession

Noun phrases can also indicate that one noun belongs to another. In English we can express this relationship in two ways: by making the first noun possessive: the girl’s toys, the girls’ mother; or by putting the word of between the two nouns: the toys of the girl, the mother of the girls. Egyptian also had two ways of expressing a relationship of possession between two nouns.

1)The direct genitive is similar to the English possessive construction. In Egyptian, however, the possessor noun is always second, and there is no change to either noun (at least, none is visible in writing). The direct genitive is expressed just by juxtaposing two nouns (putting one after the other), with the possessor noun second. Such noun phrases can usually be translated by an English possessive construction, though sometimes a translation with “of ” sounds better. Here are some examples of the direct genitive:

r js (Sin. B 195)

the tomb’s door (r “mouth, door,” jz “tomb”)

ḥjmt wb (Westc. 9, 9)

a priest’s wife (ḥjmt “woman, wife,” wb “priest”)¹

z z(j) (Peas. R 6, 5)

a man’s son (z “son,” zj “man”)

hrw(j) sth (CT IV, 237b M1C)

Seth’s testicles (hrwj “two testicles,” sth “Seth”)

nswt twj (Urk. IV, 59, 16)

Egypt’s king (nswt “king,” twj “Two Lands” = Egypt)

nswt ntrw “the gods’ king” (nswt “king,” ntr “god”)

nšmwt rmww (MuK 1, 2)

fishes’ scales (nšmt “scale,” rmw “fish”).

As these examples illustrate, either the first noun (A) or the second (B) may be masculine or feminine; singular, plural, or dual; and defined or undefined. In every case, however, the direct genitive indicates that A belongs to B. This is a very common construction in Egyptian.

2)The indirect genitive is similar to the English construction with of, with two nouns linked by a special word that indicates possession. Like the direct genitive, this construction could be used to link nouns of any gender or number, defined and undefined. The linking word, which is called the “genitival adjective,” may originally have had the same gender and number as the first noun (A), but by Middle Egyptian there were only three forms in common use:

[picture] | n | used when A is masculine singular
[picture] | nw | used when A is masculine plural or dual
[picture] | nt | used when A is feminine (regardless of number).

The genitival adjective actually means “belonging to,” but it can usually be translated by “of.” Here are some examples of the indirect genitive:

z n zj (Neferti 61)

the son of a man

smrw nw stp-z (Sin. R 17)

courtiers of the palace

hr(wj) nw sth (CT IV, 237b T3Be)

the (two) testicles of Seth

swḥt nt njw (Ebers 71, 15)

the egg of an ostrich

ḥjmwt nt wrw (Urk. IV, 185, 8)

the wives of the chiefs

jzwtj nt j. ḫmw-sk (CT I, 271a)

the (two) crews of Imperishable Stars.

By the time Middle Egyptian was no longer a spoken language, the three forms of the genitival adjective had been reduced to just one, n. Already in good Middle Egyptian, however, we can find examples of n used after masculine plurals or duals (instead of nw) and feminine nouns (instead of nt): w n sḫtj (Peas. B1, 21) “the donkeys of the peasant,” hrwj n sth (CT IV, 236b Sq1C) “the testicles of Seth,” jwwt n dpj-t (Helck, HBT, 28) “the inheritance of a survivor.”

4.14Summary of noun phrases

The preceding sections show that a phrase of two juxtaposed nouns A B can express several different relationships in Middle Egyptian: apposition (“A, B”), connection (“A and B,” “A or B”), and possession (“B’s A,” “A of B”). In two of these, the relationship can also be expressed by specific words added to the noun phrase: A ḥn B or A ḥr B (“A and B”) and A B r-pw (“A or B”) for connection, and A n/nw/nt B “A of B” for possession.

When the phrase consists only of the two nouns, without additional words, it may seem difficult to decide which of the three different relationships is meant. In most cases, however, the context of the phrase (the words surrounding it) and even the nouns themselves make only one meaning likely. The phrase ḥjmt wb in § 4.13, for example, is most likely to mean “priest’s wife” (possession), unless the context is about two people “the woman and the priest” (connection); apposition (“the woman, a priest”) is unlikely because the two nouns are different genders. As you will see when you begin reading sentences and longer texts, the nouns and their context almost always rule out all but one relationship—which is why Egyptian usually did not feel the need to add additional words.

4.15Honorific transposition

In the direct genitive, the possessing noun is always second. Although this rule was inflexible in the spoken language, however, hieroglyphic writing sometimes reverses the order of the two nouns. This happens most often when the possessing noun is ntr “god” or nswt “king” (often abbreviated ; for the spelling, see below): in that case, the possessing noun is usually written first, out of respect, even though it was spoken second. This practice is known as “honorific transposition.” The transcription of honorific transposition follows the order of speaking, not writing; a dash is often used to connect the two words.

The phrase “temple,” for instance, is to be read ḥwt-ntr (literally, “enclosure of god” or “god’s enclosure”), not ntr ḥwt (which would mean “the god of the enclosure”). Here are some other common examples of honorific transposition:

[picture] | mdw-ntr “god’s speech” (the term for “hieroglyphs”: see § 1.4)
[picture] | ḥm-ntr “priest” (literally, “god’s servant”)
[picture] | ḥtpw-ntr “god’s offerings”
[picture] | z-nswt “prince” (literally, “king’s son”)
[picture] | zt-nswt “princess” (literally, “king’s daughter”)
[picture] | mjwt-nswt “king’s mother”
[picture] | ḥjmt-nswt “queen” (literally, “king’s wife”)
[picture] | zhw-nswt “king’s scribe.”

The noun nswt “king” itself may involve honorific transposition. This word is actually an archaic noun phrase consisting of the words n(j) “of ” and swt “sedge” (the emblematic plant of Upper Egypt). The exact sense of the phrase “of the sedge” is uncertain, but it probably means “he to whom the sedge belongs” (see § 6.9), in which case the unusual order of the hieroglyphs just reflects the desire to make a compact group (instead of ).

Transposition is very common in personal names. Many Egyptian names honored a particular god or goddess, and in writing the deity’s name was usually put first. Sometimes this reflects the actual order of the spoken words, as in ptḥ-wr “Ptahwer” (meaning “Ptah is great”). Most cases, however, involve honorific transposition, as in z-ptḥ “Siptah” (meaning “Ptah’s son”). Royal names, in particular, follow this pattern: examples are z-n-wsrt “Senwosret” (meaning “Man of the goddess Wosret”) and mry-r “Meryre” (meaning “Re’s beloved”). A similar practice involves the word mry “beloved”: when the king is called the “beloved” of a god, the god’s name is often put first: mry-jmn “beloved of Amun.”

Middle Egyptian also used honorific transposition in filiations (appositions involving two personal names and the word z “son” or zt “daughter”). In texts from the Middle Kingdom, the father’s name was normally written first out of respect: (Peas. B1, 20), for example, is to be read z-mrw rnsj “Meru’s son, Rensi” (the egg is an ideogram for z “son”), not mrw z rnsj “Meru, son of Rensi.” This practice is mostly found in documents from the Middle Kingdom; later Middle Egyptian texts use the normal order A z B “A, son of B.”

ESSAY 4. THE GODS

The ancient Greek historian Herodotus, who supposedly visited Egypt in the fifth century BC, described the Egyptians as “religious to excess, far beyond any other race” (History II, 37). Modern observers often have the same impression. Apart from tombs, the greatest surviving representatives of Egypt’s architecture are its temples; Egyptian art is dominated by figures of the gods; the names of most Egyptians honored the gods; and there is hardly any Egyptian text that does not at least mention one of the gods.

Herodotus’s statement that the Egyptians were “religious to excess,” however, reflects a particularly Western notion of religion, one which (beginning with the Greeks) has separated religion from other spheres of daily human existence, such as government, social behavior, intellectual pursuits, and science. In ancient Egypt there was no such separation. What we call Egyptian “religion” is nothing less than the way in which the ancient Egyptians understood their world, explained it, and related to it.

Whether or not they believe in the existence of a god (or gods), most people today view the world objectively, as a collection of impersonal elements and forces. We understand, for example, that the wind arises from the pressure differential between areas of low and high pressure; that people get sick because of germs or viruses; and that things grow and change because of chemical and biological processes. This knowledge is the inheritance of centuries of scientific experimentation and thought. It has given us today a detailed understanding of how the world works and how we can deal with it for our own well-being and happiness.

The ancient Egyptians faced the same physical universe we do, and like us they attempted to understand and deal with it. But, without the benefit of our accumulated knowledge, they had to find their own explanations for natural phenomena and their own methods of dealing with them. The answers they came up with are what we call Egyptian “religion.”

Where we see impersonal elements and forces at work in the world, the Egyptians saw the wills and actions of beings greater than themselves: the gods. Not knowing the scientific origin of disease, for example, they could only imagine that some malevolent force was behind it. Though they might—and did—develop practical remedies to combat disease, they also believed it was necessary to drive off or appease the forces that had caused the illness in the first place. Egyptian medical texts, therefore, contain not only detailed descriptions of physical maladies and pharmaceutical prescriptions for them but also magic spells to be used in combating malevolent forces. What we distinguish as the “science” of medicine and the “religion” of magic were to the Egyptians one and the same thing.

Egyptian gods and goddesses are nothing more or less than the elements and forces of the universe. The gods did not just “control” these phenomena, like the Greek god Zeus with his lightning bolts: they were the elements and forces of the world. We recognize this quality by saying that the Egyptian gods are “immanent” in the phenomena of nature. The wind, for example, was the god šw Shu; in one text, Shu describes himself as follows: “I am Shu …: my clothing is the air …, my skin is the pressure of the wind” (CT II, 29d–30d). When an Egyptian felt the wind on his face, he felt that Shu had brushed against him.

Just as there are hundreds of recognizable elements and forces in nature, so too there were hundreds of Egyptian gods. The most important, of course, are the greatest natural phenomena. They included (j)tm(w) Atum, the original source of all matter, and his descendants: gbb Geb and nwt Nut, the earth and sky; Shu, the atmosphere (see Essay 2); rw Re, the sun; jsjr Osiris, the male power of generation; and jst Isis, the female principle of motherhood. What we would consider abstract principles of human behavior were also gods and goddesses: for example, order and harmony mt Maat), disorder and wildness sth Seth), creativity ptḥ Ptah), reasoning dḥwtj Thoth), rage sḫmt Sekhmet), and love ḥwt-ḥrw Hathor).

The power of kingship, too, was a god ḥrw Horus), embodied not only in the sun as the dominant force of nature but also in the person of the pharaoh as the dominant force in human society (see Essay 3). Our separation of religion from government would have been incomprehensible to an ancient Egyptian, to whom kingship itself was a divine force. Although the ancient Egyptians could, and did, rebel against individual kings and even assassinate them, they never replaced the pharaonic system with another method of government. To do so would have been as unthinkable as replacing the sun with something else.

The Egyptians saw the wills and actions of their gods at work in the phenomena of everyday life: Re, in the daily return of light and warmth; Osiris and Isis, in the miracle of birth; Maat or Seth, in the harmony or discord of human relations; Ptah and Thoth, in the creation of buildings, art, and literature; and Horus, in the king whose rule made life itself possible. In many cases, they also saw the presence of their gods in certain species of animals: Horus, for example, in the falcon, who soars over all other living creatures; or Sekhmet, in the ferocity of the lion. This association is the key to the many images of animal-headed gods in Egyptian art. To an Egyptian, the image of a lion-headed woman, for example, conveyed two things at once: first, that it was not the image of a human female, and was therefore a goddess; and second, that the goddess in question was Sekhmet. Such images were not an attempt to portray what the gods might look like if they could be seen; instead, they are nothing more than largescale ideograms.

Since the Egyptians saw the gods at work in all natural and human behavior, their attempts to explain and deal with that behavior naturally focused on the gods. Egyptian myths are the counterpart of our scientific textbooks: both explain what the world is like and why it behaves the way it does. Egyptian hymns, prayers, and offering rituals had the same purpose as our genetic engineering and nuclear power plants: both are attempts to mediate the effects of natural forces and to turn them to human advantage.

Although the Egyptians recognized most natural and social phenomena as separate divine forces, they also realized that many of these were interrelated and could also be understood as different aspects of a single divine force. That realization is expressed in the practice known as “syncretism,” the combining of several gods into one. The sun, for example, can be seen not only as the physical source of heat and light (Re) but also as the governing force of nature (Horus), whose appearance at dawn from the Akhet (see Essay 2) makes all life possible—a perception embodied in the combined god r-ḥrw- ḫtj Re-Harakhti (Sun Horus of the Akhet: Fig. 4). The tendency to syncretism is visible in all periods of Egyptian history. It explains not only the combination of various Egyptian gods but also the ease with which the Egyptians accepted foreign deities, such as Baal and Astarte, into their pantheon, as different forms of their own familiar gods.

Fig. 4. RamessesIII worshipping the gods Re-Harakhti, Atum, Iuesaas, and Hathor (Papyrus Harris I)

By the 18th Dynasty, Egyptian theologians had even begun to recognize that all divine forces could be understood as aspects of a single great god, jmn(w) Amun, “king of the gods.” The name Amun means “hidden.” Although his will and actions could be seen in the individual phenomena of nature, Amun himself was above all of them: “farther than the sky, deeper than the Duat, … too secret to uncover his awesomeness, … too powerful to know” (ZÄS 42, 33–34). Of all the Egyptian gods, Amun alone existed apart from nature, yet his presence was perceptible in all the phenomena of daily life. The Egyptians expressed this dual character in the combined form jmn(w)-rw Amun-Re, a god who was “hidden” yet manifest in the greatest of all natural forces.

Despite this discovery, however, the ancient Egyptians never abandoned their belief in many gods. In this respect, the Egyptian understanding of divinity was similar to the later Christian concept of the Trinity: a belief that one god can have more than one person. As bizarre as the Egyptian gods may seem to modern observers, the religion of ancient Egypt itself was not all that different from religions that are more familiar to us. Far from being an isolated phenomenon of human history, Egyptian religion actually stands at the beginning of modern intellectual inquiry and development.

EXERCISE 4

1.Give the plural and dual of the following nouns (in transcription):

a) z “son”

b) ḥjmt “woman”

c) jtj “father”²

d) mjwt “mother”

e) mjw “cat”

f) zhw “scribe”

g) mnjw “herder”

h) nbt “mistress”

i) šmyt “singer”

j) jst “place”

k) pr “house”

l) njwt “town”

m) ḥwt-ntr “temple”

n) z-nswt “prince”

o) sḫtj “farmer”

p) drt “hand”

2.Transcribe and translate the following nouns (the singular is given for reference):

a) — rd “foot”

b) — ht “belly”

c) — msdr “ear”

d) — ms “child”

e) — ḫt “thing”

f) — jrt “uraeus”³

g) — sprw “petitioner”

h) — “arm, hand”

i) — zt “daughter”

j) — msyt “waterfowl”

3.Transcribe and translate the following noun phrases (NB: some may be capable of more than one translation):

a) — nbt “mistress,” pt “sky”

b) — ntr “god,” ḥwt “enclosure”

c) — jst “place,” nḫ “living”

d) — rm “fish,” pd “bird”

e) — t “land”

f) — jtrw “river”

g) — sb “star”

h)

i)

j)

k)

l) — r “speech,” kmt “Egypt”

m) — t “bread,” mw “water”

n) — tw “air, breath,” nḫ “life”

4.Below are some damaged texts with missing signs or words marked by square brackets. Fill in the missing hieroglyphs and the gaps in transcription.

a) ḥr [ … ] jnr “surface (face) of the stone”

b) ḥwt-ntr […] jmn “temple of Amun”

c) snw[ … ] snwt “brothers and sisters”

d) sn[ … ] jsjr “Osiris’s two sisters”

e) wrw [ ... ] kmt “great ones of Egypt”

f) ḫt […] nḫ “wood of life” (idiom for “food”)

1 The word ḥjmt “wife” has a j that is not reflected in the biliteral sign .

2 For unknown reasons, the snake often appears as a determinative in this word.

3(yoo-RAY-us): a protective cobra, shown on the forehead of the pharaoh and as a frieze above the façade of certain buildings.

5.PRONOUNS

5.1Definitions

Pronouns are words that languages use to stand in for nouns (the word “pronoun” means “for a noun”). In the English sentence Jack is proud that he taught himself on his own, for example, the pronouns he, himself, and his all refer to the same thing as the noun Jack; they are used so that the speaker doesn’t have to repeat the same noun (Jack is proud that Jack taught Jack on Jack’s own). Although all three pronouns refer to the same thing, they have different forms (and different grammatical names) because they do different jobs in the sentence: he is a subject pronoun, used here to indicate the actor of the verb taught; himself is a reflexive pronoun, serving as object of the verb; and his is a possessive pronoun, the owner here of the noun own.

Besides the various forms they may take, pronouns also belong to several different categories. He, himself, and his are all personal pronouns. “Person” is a term grammarians use to describe the participants in a conversation. The first person is the speaker or speakers: English first-person pronouns are I, me, my, mine, myself (singular); and we, us, our, ours, ourselves (plural). The second person is the person or persons spoken to: second-person pronouns in English are you, your, yours (singular or plural); yourself (singular) and yourselves (plural). The third person refers to people or things spoken about; in English, third-person pronouns also indicate the gender and number of their referent (the person or thing they refer to): masculine singular he, him, his, himself; feminine singular she, her, hers, herself; neuter singular it, its, itself; and plural they, them, their, theirs, themselves.

A second category consists of demonstrative pronouns, words that “point” to their referent. English examples are this, that, these, and those. Interrogative pronouns belong to a third category. These are “question” words, such as English who (Who did it?), what (What did they do?), and which (Which was it?). The different kinds and categories of pronouns are not peculiar to English. Most languages have them in one form or another. They also existed in ancient Egyptian.

5.2Personal pronouns

English has four kinds of personal pronouns: subject (he), object (him), possessive (his), and reflexive (himself ). Middle Egyptian also had four kinds: suffix, dependent, independent, and subject pronouns. The first three will be studied here, the fourth later. As in English, these pronouns indicated the person, gender, and number of their referent. The distribution of these features was a bit different in Egyptian than it is in English:

first-person pronouns indicated only number: singular (abbreviated 1s), plural (1pl), or dual (1du). This was true for the spoken language, but hieroglyphic writing was able to indicate whether the speaker was male or female, and it occasionally did so, as we will see. This is a feature of writing only, and cannot be reflected either in transcription or in translation.

second-person pronouns indicate both gender and number, producing probably six such pronouns in all: masculine singular (2ms) and feminine singular (2fs), masculine plural (2mpl) and feminine plural (2fpl), masculine dual (2mdu) and feminine dual (2fdu). The distinction between masculine and feminine in the plural and dual was indicated only by vowels (if it existed at all), and cannot be seen in writing. As a result, we need to talk about only four second-person pronouns: masculine singular, feminine singular, plural (2pl), and dual (2du).

third-person pronouns also indicate gender and number. As in the second person, there may have been as many as six third-person pronouns, but only four can be distinguished in writing: masculine singular (3ms), feminine singular (3fs), plural (3pl), and dual (3du).

Altogether, Middle Egyptian theoretically had as many as eighteen forms of these three personal pronouns. In texts, however, the number is much less. Some of the differences cannot be seen in writing, and the dual forms were rarely used and seem to have been disappearing from the language. For the most part, therefore, we need to learn only eight forms—the same number as in English.

5.3Personal pronouns: suffix

The suffix pronouns are the most common of all Egyptian pronouns. They are called suffixes because they were added to the end of a word. They are always part of the word they are added to, and could not stand by themselves as separate words. Of all the various things that could be added to the end of an Egyptian word (which we will meet in subsequent lessons), the suffix pronouns were always the last. Egyptologists separate them from the rest of the word either by a dot or by the sign (e.g., pr.s or pr s “her house”). The suffix pronouns that appear in Middle Egyptian texts are:

1s | .j | often not written
|  | This suffix was just the vowel i (pronounced “ee”). As a result, it was often omitted in writing, like other vowels. The sign is an ideogram, and could be replaced by other ideograms for specific speakers: (woman), (god), (god or king), or (king), (deceased person).
2ms | .k | [picture]
2fs | .t | ; also.t (see § 2.8.4)
3ms | .f | [picture]
3fs | .s | [picture]
1pl | .n | [picture]
2pl | .tn | .tn (see § 2.8.4)
3pl | .sn | [picture]
|  | The 3pl suffix .sn was eventually replaced by a suffix .w, written or , which became the standard 3pl suffix pronoun in Late Egyptian. It occasionally appears in nonstandard Middle Egyptian texts, beginning in Dynasty 18.

The dual suffix pronouns have the forms .nj (1du), .tnj or .tnj (2du), and .snj (3du). Writings are the same as the plural forms without plural strokes or with in place of the plural strokes: . These forms are found mostly in religious texts; normally the plural forms are used for both plural and dual.

5.4Personal pronouns: dependent

Unlike the suffix pronouns, the dependent pronouns were separate words, but they are called “dependent” because they are normally used after some other word. The forms of the dependent pronoun in Middle Egyptian are the following:

1s | wj | etc.

The essential part of this pronoun is the first consonant w , which is always written. The second consonant j is written like the 1s suffix pronoun: it is often omitted in writing; when shown it can be written with any of the ideograms used for the suffix pronoun (for example, for a god, for the king, and so forth).

2ms | tw | tw (see § 2.8.4)
2fs | tn | tn (see § 2.8.4)
3ms | sw | [picture]
3fs | sj | [picture]
1pl | n | [picture]
2pl | tn | .tn (see § 2.8.4)
3pl | sn | [picture]
3n | st | [picture]

Note that the plural forms look the same as the plural forms of the suffix pronouns.

The third-person pronoun st is neutral (not neuter) in gender and number: it can be used for both the singular and plural. For the most part, the 3ms form sw “he, him,” the 3fs form sj “she, her,” and the 3pl form sn “they, them” are used to refer to people or gods, and st is used in place of other nouns or plurals (“it,” “they, them”). When these are plural, st sometimes is written with plural strokes .

5.5Personal pronouns: independent

The independent pronouns were separate words and did not have to depend on some other word in a sentence. The independent pronouns have the following forms in Middle Egyptian:

1s | jnk | [picture]
|  | The signs and are determinatives and can be replaced by the other signs that are used as ideograms in writings of the 1s suffix and dependent pronouns: for example, or when the speaker is a god or king.
2ms | ntk | [picture]
2fs | ntt | ntt (see § 2.8.4)
3ms | ntf | [picture]
3fs | nts | [picture]
1pl | jnn | [picture]
|  | These are later spellings. This pronoun has not been found in any texts earlier than the New Kingdom, but it undoubtedly existed in Middle Egyptian.
2pl | nttn | nttn (see § 2.8.4)
3pl | ntsn | .

If you examine the second and third-person forms, you will see that they actually consist of the element nt followed by the appropriate suffix pronoun. The first-person forms are built of the element jn followed by a suffix; for the plural, this suffix is the regular suffix pronoun.

Originally the second and third-person forms consisted of the dependent pronoun plus an ending t, at least in the singular. Two holdovers of this older system are still used occasionally in Middle Egyptian, particularly in religious texts:

2s | twt | (from twt “image”) twt (see § 2.8.4)
3s | swt | [picture]

These were originally the masculine forms, but in Middle Egyptian they are used for the feminine as well: thus, twt is equivalent to ntk and ntt, and swt is used like ntf and nts.

5.6Personal pronouns: summary

The following table summarizes the three different forms of the personal pronouns that are normally used in Middle Egyptian:

| SUFFIX | DEPENDENT | INDEPENDENT | TRANSLATIONS
1s | .j | wj | jnk | “I, me, my”
2ms | .k | tw, tw | ntk | “you, your”
2fs | .t,.t | tn, tn | ntt, ntt | “you, your”
3ms | .f | sw | ntf | “he, him, his, it, its”
3fs | .s | sj, st | nts | “she, her, it, its”
1pl | .n | n | jnn | “we, us, our”
2pl | .tn,.tn | tn, tn | nttn, nttn | “you, your”
3pl | .sn | sn, st | ntsn | “they, them, their.”

The translations given here apply for the most part to each of the three forms: for example, all three forms of the 3ms suffix pronoun have to be translated “he” or “it” in some cases, “him” in other cases, and “his” or “its” in still others. There is not a simple one-to-one correspondence between the Egyptian and English personal pronouns. For this reason, you should learn to think of the pronouns as representing a particular person, gender, and number and not as words corresponding to the English pronouns: memorize .f (for example) as “the 3ms suffix pronoun” and not as “he,” “him,” or “his.”

5.7Suffix pronouns with nouns

The English translation of the Egyptian personal pronouns depends on how the pronouns are used. Each of the three forms had more than one function in Egyptian. Most of these uses we will meet in future lessons, but here we will consider how the suffix pronouns are used with nouns.

When added to the end of a noun, the suffix pronouns are the equivalent of the English possessive pronouns; for example, with the noun pr “house”:

1s | [picture] | pr.j | “my house”
2ms | [picture] | pr.k | “your house” (spoken to a man)
2fs | [picture] | pr.t or pr.t | “your house” (spoken to a woman)
3ms | [picture] | pr.f | “his house,” “its house”
3fs | [picture] | pr.s | “her house,” “its house”
1pl | [picture] | pr.n | “our house”
2pl | [picture] | pr.tn or pr.tn | “your house”
3pl | [picture] | pr.sn | “their house.”

The suffix pronoun is normally added at the very end of the noun, after any endings or determinatives: for example, sntj.f “his two sisters,” snw.t “your brothers.” Note that the gender and number of the noun has nothing to do with the gender and number of the suffix pronoun, just as in English: his sister, his sisters; our mother, our mothers. When added to a dual noun, however, the suffix pronouns themselves sometimes have an extra ending j, copied from that of the dual: for example, rdwj.fj “his two feet,” wj.sj “her two arms” (but also rdwj.f and wj.s).

It is important to remember that the first-person singular suffix pronoun is often omitted in writing. The signs , therefore, can be a writing of pr.(j) “my house” as well as pr “house.” It is also important to remember that the seated man can be both a determinative of a noun as well as an ideogram for the first-person singular suffix pronoun. In some cases, it is not always clear which function it is supposed to have. The signs , for example, can be read in three different ways:

z “son” as determinative),

z.j “my son” as 1s suffix, z without determinative),

z.(j) “my son” as determinative, 1s suffix not written).

In the same way, the signs can also be read three ways:

zwj “two sons” (both as determinatives of the dual),

zwj.(j) “my two sons” (both as determinatives of the dual, 1s suffix not written),

z.j “my son” (first as determinative, second as 1s suffix).

This may seem confusing at first, but you will eventually find that it creates little or no problem in reading most texts. Usually, the context will tell you whether or not a singular or dual is being referred to, and whether a first-person singular suffix should be read or not.

5.8Demonstrative pronouns: forms and meanings

English has basically two demonstrative pronouns: this (plural these) and that (plural those). Middle Egyptian has four. Each of the four appears in three different forms:

MASCULINE SINGULAR | FEMININE SINGULAR | NEUTRAL
pn | tn | nn
pf | tf | nf
or pf | or tf | or nf
pw | tw | nw
p | t | n

The demonstratives pf, tf, and nf are fuller forms of pf, tf, and nf, respectively. As you can see from this chart, the masculine singular forms all begin with p–; the feminine singular, with t–; and the neutral forms, with n–. The four demonstratives are formed by adding another consonant to these beginnings: –n, –w, –, and –f or –f.

The –n demonstratives are the most common in Middle Egyptian, and can mean either “this, these” or “that, those.” The translation depends on context: i.e., on whether the reference is to something nearby (“this, these”) or more distant (“that, those”). The –f or –f demonstratives are normally used to contrast with the –n series, in which case they are translated by “that, those” and the –n series by “this, these.” The –w demonstratives are an older equivalent of the –n series, and have the same meanings; they are still used in Middle Egyptian, though usually in religious texts or in special functions. The – demonstratives seem to be a dialectal or colloquial (spoken-language) variant of the –n series, but they also occur in good literary Middle Egyptian texts.

5.9Demonstrative pronouns: uses

As in English, the demonstrative pronouns of Middle Egyptian can be used either by themselves (“this, that, these, those”) or with nouns (“this house, that house, these houses, those houses”).

Although all the demonstratives can be used by themselves, Middle Egyptian normally prefers the neutral forms (nn, nf/nf, nw, n) for that function. In that case the demonstrative usually means “this” or “that”: for example, dd.n.f nn “He said this,” ptr n “What is that?”

When they are used with nouns rather than by themselves, the masculine singular demonstratives go with masculine singular nouns; the feminine singular forms, with feminine singular nouns; and the neutral forms, usually with plural or dual nouns. The following examples illustrate how the demonstratives and nouns are used together in Middle Egyptian:

MASCULINE SINGULAR | FEMININE SINGULAR
ntr pn “this/that god” | ntrt tn “this/that goddess”
ntr pw “this/that god” | ntrt tw “this/that goddess”
ntr pf or pf ntr “that god” | ntrt tf or tf ntrt “that goddess”
p ntr “this/that god” | t ntrt “this/that goddess”

PLURAL

nn n ntrw/ntrwt “these/those gods/goddesses”

nw n ntrw/ntrwt “these/those gods/goddesses”

nf n ntrw/ntrwt “these/those gods/goddesses”

n n ntrw/ntrwt “these/those gods/goddesses”

The singular forms pn/tn and pw/tw always follow the noun (literally, “god this,” etc.); p and t always precede the noun (like this and that in English); and pf/tf (or pf/tf) can follow or precede the noun.

With plurals, the demonstratives always precede the noun and are joined to it by n, which is the “genitival adjective” (§ 4.13.2). The form n shows that the demonstrative pronoun is actually singular: nn n ntrw means literally “this of gods.” Note that the same form is used for masculine and feminine plurals. Because the neutral forms are actually singular, the noun following n is sometimes singular rather than plural in form, though the meaning is still plural: for example, nn n sḫtj (Peas. B1, 106) “those peasants” (literally, “that of peasant”) instead of nn n sḫtjw.

When the singular demonstratives are used with a noun phrase (§ 4.13), they follow the entire phrase if it is a direct genitive and the first noun if it is an indirect genitive: ḥwt-ntr tn “this temple (god’s enclosure),” jrt tn nt ḥrw “this Eye of Horus.” This conforms to a general rule that nothing can come between the two nouns of a direct genitive. The demonstratives can also be used with nouns that have a suffix pronoun: drt.j tn “this my hand” (or, “this hand of mine”).

5.10Demonstrative pronouns: specialized features

The forms, uses, and meanings we looked at in the preceding section apply to the demonstrative pronouns in general. Certain of the demonstratives, however, have more specialized features.

1)Gods or people are sometimes invoked with a demonstrative pronoun. In this use (called the vocative), there is no good English translation for the demonstrative: h nḫt pw “Oh, Nakht!”— literally, “Oh, this Nakht!” The same construction can be used when the vocative is a regular noun: j jrt tn nt ḥrw “Oh, Eye of Horus!” When pw and tw are used this way, they sometimes have the forms pwy and twy.

2)The demonstratives nn and nw were originally used only by themselves, without a following noun, and a separate set of demonstratives was used with plural nouns:

MASCULINE PLURAL | jpn | jpw | “these, those”
FEMININE PLURAL | jptn | jptw | “these, those.”

These older plurals are occasionally found in Middle Egyptian, mostly in texts of a religious nature. They are used after nouns, like the singular forms: ntrw jpn “these gods, those gods”; ntrwt jptn “these goddesses, those goddesses.” The –w forms are used with vocatives: ntrw jpw “O gods!” and ntrwt jptw “O goddesses!”

3)The demonstratives p, t, and n usually have the meanings “this, that, these, those.” In some cases, however, the demonstrative sense is weak, and the pronouns are equivalent to the English definite article the (see § 4.9): for example, p mhr (Peas. R 1, 4) “the warehouse.” By Late Egyptian, p, t, and n had actually become the definite article, and were no longer used as demonstratives. This is a development that is paralleled in many languages: for example, the definite articles in English, German, French, Spanish, and Italian all come from words that were once—and in some cases, still are—demonstratives. In Egyptian, the use of p, t, and n as the definite article began in the spoken language probably before the Middle Kingdom.

5.11New pronouns

All the demonstratives except the – series seem to have disappeared from spoken Egyptian by the end of the Middle Kingdom, though they are still used in writing. As the – series became established as the definite article, it also served as the base for a new set of possessive pronouns. These were formed by adding the suffix pronouns to the demonstratives instead of the noun; the demonstratives often have the ending y:

MS | p/py + suffix + masculine noun: | p.sn/py.sn pr “their house”
FS | t/ty + suffix + feminine noun: | t.k/ty.k ḥjmt “your wife”
PL | n/ny + suffix + n + plural noun: | n.s/ny.s n hrdw “her children.”

These new possessive pronouns are the equivalent of the English possessives: for example, py.j t ḥn py.k (Helck, HBT, 94) “my land and yours.”

These new forms occasionally appear in Middle Egyptian texts from the late Middle Kingdom onward. Note that the demonstrative part (py, ty, ny) always corresponds to the gender and number of the noun (py with masculine singular nouns, ty with feminine singular nouns, and ny with plurals), and has nothing to do with gender and number of the suffix pronoun, just as in the more usual possessive construction in which the suffix pronoun is added to the end of the noun (§ 5.7): for example, pr.sn and py.sn pr “their house,” ḥjmt.k and ty.k ḥjmt “your wife,” hrdw.s and ny.s n hrdw “her children.”

5.12Interrogative pronouns

The interrogative pronouns are always used in questions. Unlike the other pronouns, they have only one form. There are five common interrogative pronouns in Middle Egyptian:

mj | “who?,” “what?”
| The sign , more often written , is a biliteral mj. This is the most common Middle Egyptian interrogative. It corresponds to the dependent pronouns, and like them is used mostly after other words, as we will see in later lessons.
ptr | “who?,” “what?”; also ptj (see § 2.8.4)

This interrogative corresponds to the independent pronouns; it usually stands first in the sentence. The word ptr is actually a contraction of two words, the demonstrative pw and tr, a kind of word called a “particle,” which is often found in questions. In some texts the two words are spelled out more fully: pw-tr. Very rarely, pw is used as an interrogative by itself, without tr.

jḫ | “what?”
| This word is occasionally used instead of mj, and only when the question is about things (“what?”) rather than people or gods (“who?”).
jšst | “what?”
| This is a more common form of jḫ, and actually consists of two words: jš (a variant form of jḫ) and the third-person dependent pronoun st. Like jḫ, it is used only when the question is about things; but like ptr, it can stand at the beginning of a sentence.
zy, zj | “which?,” “which one?,” “which ones?”
| Like the English interrogative which, this pronoun can be used by itself or with a noun. In the latter case, zy always stands first and is actually the first noun of a direct genitive: for instance, zy wt “which path?” (literally, “which of path?”).

As you can see, the five interrogative pronouns correspond to the English question words who, what, and which. Egyptian has five such pronouns, rather than the three of English, partly because they are used in different ways and in different kinds of sentences. We will meet some of these uses in Lesson 7 and the rest later in this book.

ESSAY 5. THE GODS ON EARTH

The Egyptian gods were cosmic beings, the elements and forces of nature. As such, they existed on a plane far removed from that of ordinary human beings. Yet their actions often touched individual human lives. The god Shu, for example, existed not only in the atmosphere and the wind but also in individual human breaths; the god Osiris not only brought the sun back to life each morning but also transmitted life from parent to child in each mother’s womb.

Because they saw such connections between cosmic phenomena and human experience, the Egyptians believed that their gods were not distant objects of worship but living beings who could be approached and prayed to. For that reason, the Egyptians built shrines and temples to their gods. These were viewed as places in which the god could—and did—dwell, usually in the form of a statue or other sacred image. The Egyptians saw no contradiction between such images and the cosmic scale of the gods themselves. Each image was viewed as a means by which the god could interact with people, in the same way that Shu was present in each human breath.

Most Egyptian temples follow a common plan, with an open-air courtyard in front, a columned hall in the middle, and a small sanctuary at the back that housed the god’s image. To go from the courtyard to the sanctuary was to journey from the human sphere to the divine—from the familiar sunlit and tangible world to a place of darkness and mystery. The sanctuary itself was normally a small, dark room, with a pedestal in its middle. The pedestal held a miniature bark in the form of a papyrus skiff, carrying a closed shrine (represented by the hieroglyph ). The god’s image was housed in this shrine, usually in the form of a gold statue. In larger temples, the shrine occupied a separate room behind the one with the bark and its pedestal.

The Egyptians thought of these temples, and their sacred images, in much the same way as they viewed the houses of their high officials and the palace of the king. The temple of Luxor, for instance, was known as the “Southern Private Quarters” of the god Amun, his wife Mut, and their son Khonsu. In human society, the royal palace and official residences were off limits to all but the immediate family and their servants. Normal Egyptians could approach the pharaoh or high officials to seek their assistance only when they appeared in public audience. Often, requests had to be relayed through underlings, rather than directly to the king or officials themselves. Only on special occasions such as public processions did most Egyptians even get to see their rulers.

In the same way, the temples of the gods and goddesses were viewed as their private domains. Like the palace or the houses of high officials, they were accessible only to a limited number of outsiders, including the pharaoh and the god’s own immediate servants: the Egyptian word for “priest,” ḥm-ntr, means literally “god’s servant.” Priests tended the divine image like servants ministering to a master. In the temple ritual, held several times a day, the priests would open the shrine, remove the statue, bathe it, anoint it with oils, and clothe it in fine linen before reinstalling it in the shrine. A meal of real food was then presented to the image. At the end of the ritual, the priests would close the doors of the shrine and depart, sweeping away their footprints as they left.

Priestly service of this kind was ideally performed by the king, as the high priest of every god. Normally, however, the duty was delegated to the temple’s own priests, acting in the king’s stead. During the Old and Middle Kingdoms, priestly service was largely undertaken by civil officials as part of their social responsibilities. Ordinary functions such as cleaning the temple and preparing the god’s food offerings were tended to by local residents, who served in tours of duty lasting several weeks. Men performing these mundane duties were called wb, literally, “cleaner.” Women also served the god, usually by singing and shaking the sistrum (a kind of rattle) in religious processions. Only in the New Kingdom did the priesthood begin to become a permanent profession. Eventually each temple had its own hierarchy, with a high priest ḥm-ntr dpj “first god’s-servant”); several subordinates (called “second,” “third,” and “fourth god’s-servant”); specialists for linen, oils, and so forth; and a host of wb-priests.

Temples also served as the focal point of Egyptian intellectual life. Their libraries held not only the scrolls of liturgies, hymns, and other sacred texts, but also collections of literature. Several Egyptian texts describe how the king had these libraries searched, or searched them himself, to find the proper rituals for a particular ancient ceremony. Schooling also seems to have been a temple function, where young men—and perhaps also some women—were taught to read and write in the t sb “room of teaching.”

Apart from the daily temple ritual, the high point of temple life was the periodic festivals in which the bark with the god’s shrine would be brought out in procession on carrying poles shouldered by the priests (Fig. 5). In Thebes, for example, there were several such occasions during the course of the year, including the “Beautiful Feast of the Valley,” in which the image of Amun would be transported from his temple at Karnak, in northeastern Thebes, to visit the royal mortuary temples on the West Bank; and the Feast of Opet, in which the barks of Amun, Mut, and Khonsu were transported from Karnak to Luxor.

Fig. 5. Procession of the bark of Amun (temple of Karnak, author’s photo)

For most Egyptians, these public holidays were the only chance they had to see their gods. Even then, they saw only the closed shrines; the images themselves remained hidden inside. In the New Kingdom, these processions became an opportunity to ask the gods for special interventions, called “oracles.” Questions could be delivered in writing, through the priests, for judgment in the course of the procession. Often these oracles were the court of last resort for legal opinions, when local officials were unable to decide between two litigants. A man might ask, for example, “Should the place be given to Menna?” and the god would respond either favorably, by causing the bark to advance or dip on the priest’s shoulders, or unfavorably, by retreating or remaining still. The pharaoh Thutmose III even records how he was selected to be king through such a manifestation, when the god’s bark singled him out during a procession in Karnak.

These practices give the impression that there was a significant distance between ordinary people and the temples and images of the gods. Nonetheless, all Egyptians seem to have felt that their gods were accessible to ordinary people through private prayer. The extent to which this was true in the Old and Middle Kingdoms is uncertain, but from the New Kingdom onward there is abundant evidence of individual prayer and devotion, particularly to Amun, whom we might consider the most “unreachable” of all the gods (see Essay 4). Even in earlier times, however, there seems to have been a sense that the gods, as distant as they might be, were concerned for the well-being and interests of all people, even the most humble. A text from the New Kingdom reflects this view:

Well provided are people, the flock of the god. For their sake he has made the sky and the earth. For them he has driven back the darkness of the waters. He has made air for the heart just so that their noses might live. They are his likenesses, who came from his body. For their sakes he rises in the sky. To nourish them he has made the plants, animals, birds, and fish … For them he has raised a shrine around them. When they weep, he is listening. For them he has made rulers … awake over them by night as by day … For the god knows every name. (Merikare 11, 10–12, 8)

EXERCISE 5

1.Transcribe and translate:

a) (ShS. 128) — ms “offspring,” sn “sibling”

b) (Helck, HBT, 85) — ḥt “field”

c) (ShS. 134) — ḥjmt “woman, wife,” pr “house”

d) (Peas. R 1, 2)

e) (Peas. R 7, 2–3) — ḥnw “property” (singular), sḫtj “farmer”

f) (Peas. R 9, 4) — “donkey”

g) (Peas. B1, 47) — nb “lord,” spt “estate”

h) (Peas. R 18, 1 and B1, 112) — hrd “child”

i) (ShS. 152) — ḥknw “oil” (singular)

j) (ShS. 8) — nhw “loss,” mš “expeditionary force”

k) (ShS. 77–78) — jst “place,” sndm “residence”

l) (Helck, HBT, 22)— smr “courtier”

m) (ShS. 154) — dpt “boat”

n) (ShS. 170) — hw “vicinity” (singular)

o)

p) — ḥr “face”

q) — mjwt “mother”

r) (Helck, HBT, 92) — qnyt “braves” (collective: see § 4.6)

s)
(Siut I, 295) — qnbt “council”

t)
(Siut I, 269) — ḫt “thing”

2.From Exercise 5.1, above, convert the following into the plural (write in hieroglyphs, transcribe, and translate):

d)

m)

o)

q)

3.From Exercise 5.1, above, convert the following into the singular (write in hieroglyphs, transcribe, and translate):

f)

l)

t)

4.From Exercise 5.1, above, convert the following into the colloquial form (see § 5.11; write in hieroglyphs, transcribe, and translate):

b)

c)

6.ADJECTIVES

6.1Definitions

Adjectives are words that describe qualities, such as size (“big,” “narrow”), color (“black, “red”), and value (“good,” “cheap”). In English, adjectives are mostly used to modify nouns—that is, in a noun phrase (§ 4.10) that specifies what kind of noun is meant: a big house, red ink, the cheap hats. Less often, English adjectives can be used without a noun: land of the free, home of the brave. When an adjective is used without an accompanying noun, English usually requires the addition of the word one or ones in place of the noun: a big one (not *a big), the little ones (not *the little).

There were three kinds of adjectives in Middle Egyptian: primary, secondary, and derived. Secondary and derived adjectives come from verbs, nouns, or prepositions; primary adjectives do not. Egyptian had only one primary adjective: nb meaning “all,” “every.” Most Egyptian adjectives fall into the secondary category. These adjectives are actually a verb-form, called a participle, which we will meet later: for example, the adjective nfr, meaning “good, beautiful, young,” which comes from the verb nfr, meaning “to be (or become) good, beautiful, young.” Derived adjectives are made from a noun or a preposition. An example from a noun is the word njwtj “local” (often written as a “false dual” : § 4.7), formed from njwt “town.” The “genitival adjective” (§ 4.13.2) is another derived adjective, from the preposition n “to, for” (which we will meet in Lesson 8). Egyptologists use the word nisbe (pronounced “NIZZ-bee” or “NISS-beh”), taken from Arabic grammar, as a term for derived adjectives.

6.2Adjectives as modifiers

Egyptian adjectives are often used to modify nouns. In this use, adjectives generally have the same gender and number as the noun; this feature is known as “agreement.” In Middle Egyptian, modifying adjectives have three basic forms: masculine singular, masculine plural, and feminine. The masculine singular is the basic form: primary and secondary adjectives have no ending in this form, and nisbes have the ending –j:

nb “all” | nfr “good” | njwtj “local.”

Masculine plural adjectives add the ending –w to the singular form. This is the same ending used for masculine plural nouns (§ 4.5), and is written in the same ways (§ 4.6): for example,

nbw | nfrw | njwtjw.¹

Feminine adjectives add the ending –t to the masculine singular form of primary and secondary adjectives, and in place of the ending –j of masculine nisbes:

nbt | nfrt | njwtt.

When they modify a plural noun, feminine adjectives occasionally are written with plural strokes (e.g., ), but otherwise they have the same form as the singular. Originally there may have been a separate feminine plural adjective, formed like the feminine plural noun: for example, ḥjmwt nfrwt “good women” (see the next section). But since feminine adjectives that modify nouns often have no plural strokes in Middle Egyptian, it seems that the original plural form had disappeared, leaving only one form of the feminine adjective. During its lifetime as a spoken language, Middle Egyptian gradually lost all but the masculine singular form of modifying adjectives. As a result, you will occasionally see the masculine singular form used to modify plural or feminine nouns.

When they are used to modify a noun, adjectives always follow the noun. Here are some examples of noun phrases with modifying adjectives:

| MASCULINE | FEMININE
SINGULAR | sḫtj nb “every farmer” | ḥjmt nfrt “good woman”
PLURAL | sḫtjw nbw “all farmers” | ḥjmwt nfrt “good women.”

The rule that adjectives must follow their noun is invariable. This helps to distinguish the adjective nb “all, every” from the noun nb “lord, master, owner” (feminine nbt “lady, mistress”): thus, pr nb “every house” but nb pr “lord of the house, owner of the house”; prw nbw “all the houses” but nbw prw “lords of the houses”; ḥwt nbt “every enclosure” but nbt ḥwt “mistress of the enclosure.”

6.3Adjective order

Like English, Egyptian could use several adjectives as modifiers, not just one. In this case all the adjectives should have the same form: for example, ḫt nbt nfrt wbt “every good and clean thing.” As this example shows, when nb “all” is used with other adjectives, it is always put first. The same is true of demonstratives: ndr pf mnḫ (Sin. B 44) “that beneficent god.” Naturally, since suffix pronouns are part of the noun they are used with, they also precede any adjectives: sḫrw.j jqrw (Sin. B 106) “my excellent plans.”

In the preceding lesson, we learned about the general rule that nothing can stand between the two nouns of a direct genitive (see § 5.9). When one or more adjectives modify the second noun of a direct genitive, this is not a problem: for example, ḥjmt wb nb “every priest’s wife, the wife of every priest” (nb modifies wb “priest”). When adjectives modify the first noun of a direct genitive, however, they must also follow the entire noun phrase, or else the noun phrase must be converted to an indirect genitive: for example, ḥjmt wb nbt or ḥjmt nbt nt wb “every wife of a priest” (nbt modifies ḥjmt “wife”). When adjectives follow a direct genitive, it is important to pay attention to their endings, because these can show which noun of the direct genitive the adjective is meant to modify.

6.4Adjectives as nouns

Most Egyptian adjectives can also be used by themselves, as nouns. The only exception is the primary adjective nb, which can only be used as a modifier, never as a noun by itself. When you encounter the word nb without a preceding noun, it must therefore be the noun nb “lord, master” and not the adjective nb “all, each, every”: thus, nb pn “this lord” and nbt tn “this mistress”—not “all this.”

In fact, all Egyptian adjectives (except nb) are nouns. A noun followed by one or more adjectives is actually a noun phrase of apposition (§ 4.11), in which the adjectives are in apposition to the noun: sḫrw.j jqrw “my excellent plans,” for example, actually means “my plans, the good ones.” Because Egyptian adjectives indicate gender and number, Egyptian often does not need to use another noun with the adjective, unlike English. The feminine singular adjective nfrt, for instance, can be used by itself to refer to any “good, beautiful, perfect” feminine person or thing: for example, nfrt “the beautiful woman,” or nfrt “a good thing.” Sometimes the scribe will add a determinative to indicate what more specifically kind of person or thing is meant: for example, nfrt “the beautiful woman,” nfrt “a young cow,” “a good thing, something good.”

When they are used as nouns, adjectives behave like other nouns. They can have the same plural and dual forms as other nouns (§§ 4.5–4.8): for example, masculine nfr “a good one,” nfrw “good ones,” nfrwj “two good ones”; feminine nfrt “a good one,” nfrwt “good ones,” nfrtj “two good ones.” Like other nouns, they can also have suffix pronouns, and can even be modified by demonstratives or other adjectives: for example, nfrt.sn “their good one,” nfr pn “this good one,” nfrw nbw “all the good ones.”

6.5The nfr ḥr construction

Like other nouns, adjectives used as nouns can also be part of a noun phrase. One very common example of this is a phrase in which the adjective is the first noun of a direct or indirect genitive (§ 4.13): for example, nfr ḥr “good of face”—literally, “a good one of face.” Egyptologists often refer to this kind of phrase as “the nfr ḥr construction.” Sometimes it can be translated more or less directly into English, as in this example (which is actually an Egyptian expression for “kind”). In most cases, however, a direct translation sounds odd in English, and the construction has to be paraphrased instead of translated word for word. For example, a man might describe himself as š zrw (Sethe, Lesesetücke, 79, 21–22) “one who has many sheep”—literally, “many of sheep” (the plural strokes after š are a determinative for “many”). Similarly, young women might be called nfrwt nt ḥw.sn (Westc. 5, 10) “those who have beautiful bodies”—literally, “beautiful ones of their bodies.” This construction can also occur in phrases where the adjective is used to modify another noun: zhw jqr n dbw.f (Neferti 10) “a scribe skilled with his fingers”— literally, “a scribe, a skilled one of his fingers.”

The nfr ḥr construction is typically used to describe the characteristics of someone or something. The nfr part refers to the person or thing being described, and the ḥr part refers to something that the person or thing owns or has. Egyptian assigns the adjectival quality to the owner rather than the thing owned, whereas English normally does the reverse: thus, a man is described as jqr dbw “one skilled of fingers” in Egyptian but as “one with skilled fingers” in English. We will consider this difference further in § 6.9, below.

6.6The interrogative adjective

In Lesson 5 we met the Egyptian interrogative pronouns (§ 5.12). Egyptian has one interrogative adjective: wr “how much?, how great?” This is actually the adjective wr “great” used as a noun (see § 6.4). Like the interrogative pronouns, it is used only in questions, as we will see in the next lesson.

6.7Apparent adjectives

Some Egyptian words that are translated by English adjectives are not adjectives in Egyptian. The most common of these is the word for “other,” which has the following forms:

MASCULINE SINGULAR | ky
FEMININE SINGULAR | kt, kty
PLURAL | kjwj

This is actually an old dual noun. When it is used with a noun, ky always precedes the noun: ky sb() (CT V, 184a) “another gate, the other gate”; kt ḫt (CT V, 97f) “the other thing, another thing”; k(j)wj bjtjw (Urk. IV, 330, 4) “other kings” (for bjtj, see the Essay at the end of this lesson). When used in this way, ky does not actually modify the noun: instead, it is the first noun of a noun phrase of apposition (see § 4.11). Thus, ky sb really means “another, a gate” or “the other, the gate.” Since it is a noun, ky can also be used by itself: for example, ky “another one, the other one.” It can also take a suffix pronoun, as other nouns do: kty.f wt (Peas. Bt 30–31) “its other path”—literally, “its other one, the path.” When the plural is used by itself to mean “others” or “the others,” it has a different form from that used to modify plural nouns: kt-ḫt or kt-ḫj—actually, a compound noun formed from kt “other” and ḫt “thing.”

Other apparent adjectives have only one form. Like ky, they are nouns that can be used by themselves or in a noun phrase with other nouns. They include:

tnw | ; also tnw (see § 2.8.3) “each, each one”
nhj | “some, a little, a few.”

These words are always the first noun of a genitival noun phrase; tnw is used in the direct genitive, and nhj in the indirect genitive: tnw rnpt (Urk. IV, 55, 9) “each year” (literally, “each one of year”); nhj n r(m)t (Adm. 7, 3) “a few people, some people” (literally, “some of people”).

Middle Egyptian also uses a few prepositional phrases (consisting of a preposition followed by a noun: see Lesson 8) that are best translated by the English adjectives “whole, complete, entire.” The most common are:

r dr | [picture] | literally, “to the limit”
r w | [picture] | literally, “according to the length”
mj qd | [picture] | literally, “like the shape” (the sign is a determinative in this word)
mj qj | [picture] | literally, “like the character.”

These phrases are used to modify a noun. They always stand after the noun and any other modifiers the noun may have, and usually have a third-person suffix pronoun that agrees in gender and number with the noun: for example, t pn r dr.f (Westc. 9, 11) “this entire land” (literally, “this land to its limit”), ḥwtntr mj qd.s (Petrie, Koptos, pl. 8, 2) “the whole temple” (literally, “the god’s enclosure like its shape”).

6.8Comparative and superlative

Adjectives can be used not only to describe a quality but also to compare that quality to something else. Most adjectives in English have three forms for this purpose. The regular form simply describes a quality: for example, a cheap hat. A second form, called the “comparative,” is used to compare a quality to some other standard. In English, the comparative of many adjectives is made by adding the ending –er to the adjective: a cheaper hat. For other adjectives, the comparative has to be formed by using the word more with the regular adjective: a more expensive hat. A third form, called the “superlative,” is used to indicate that the quality is the highest of all. This is formed by adding the ending –est to some adjectives and by using the word most with others: the cheapest hat, the most expensive hat. A few English adjectives have special forms for the comparative and superlative: for example, good, better, best.

Egyptian is simpler than English because its adjectives have no comparative or superlative forms: the adjective nfr, for example, can mean not only “good” or “beautiful” but also “better” or “more beautiful” and “best” or “most beautiful.” In some cases, only the context will tell which of these three senses the adjective is meant to have. Often, however, Egyptian uses special constructions with the adjective to indicate that it has comparative or superlative meaning rather than its regular sense.

The comparative is indicated by adding a phrase with the preposition r “with respect to” after the adjective. The preposition points to the thing that the adjective is being compared to, almost always another noun or noun phrase: for example, ntr mnḫ r ntr nb (Siut II, 6) “a god more beneficent than any god”— literally, “a god beneficent with respect to every god.” This comparative phrase can be added not only to adjectives that modify a noun, as in the preceding example, but also to those that are used by themselves: for example, nfrt r ḫt nbt “something better than anything”—literally, “a good one with respect to everything.”

The superlative can be shown in several ways. Egyptian normally uses the superlative for adjectives that stand by themselves and do not modify a noun. Most often, it is indicated by a direct or indirect genitive: for example, wr wrw or wr n wrw (Peas. B1, 84) “the greatest of the great” or “the greatest of all”—literally, “the great one of the great ones.” Sometimes the word jm(j) “among” is used after the adjective instead of a genitive: wr jm(j) sḥw (Urk. VII, 39, 6) “greatest of the dignitaries” or “the greatest dignitary”—literally, “the great one among the dignitaries.”

6.9Egyptian expressions for “have”

To indicate possession, English can say that the owner “has” something, using a form of the verb of possession, have. Not all languages, however, show possession in this way. Arabic and Russian, for example, do not. Like these languages, Egyptian too has no exact counterpart for English have or its synonyms (possess, own). In place of such words, Egyptian uses other kinds of expressions. One of the most common involves the noun nb as the first noun of a direct genitive. In many cases, such phrases can be translated by “lord of,” as in nb pt “lord of the sky.” In others, however, nb is used to indicate possession, not mastery. Thus, a man might describe himself as nb w (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 21) meaning that he is an “owner of donkeys” or that he “has donkeys,” not that he rules as “lord of donkeys.”

Other Egyptian expressions of ownership use adjectival phrases. The nfr ḥr construction usually has this connotation, and can normally be translated by an English “have” expression. This is true of all the examples cited in § 6.5, above:

nfr ḥr “one good of face” = “one who has a good face”

š zrw “one many of sheep” = “one who has many sheep”

nfrwt nt ḥw.sn “ones beautiful of their bodies” = “women with beautiful bodies”

zhw jqr n dbw.f “a scribe skilled of his fingers” = “a scribe with skilled fingers.”

In each case, Egyptian assigns the adjectival quality to the owner rather than the thing owned, whereas English normally does the reverse.

Another adjectival means of indicating possession involves the genitival adjective n (§ 4.13.2). This is actually a nisbe, meaning “belonging”; it therefore has the masculine singular ending –j, like other nisbes (nj), although the ending is hardly ever shown in the writing of this word. Because it is an adjective, n(j) is not limited to expressing just the genitive. One example of its adjectival use is the noun nswt “king” (§ 4.15): this is actually a compound word n(j)-swt, which probably means “he who has the sedge” (the emblem of Upper Egypt)—literally, “the belonging one of the sedge.” We will meet more examples of this use of n(j) in the next lesson.

ESSAY 6. THE KING’S NAMES

The king was not only the pinnacle of Egyptian society but also the link between human beings and the gods, since he was human himself yet embodied a divine power (see Essay 3). This dual nature is reflected in many of the king’s attributes, particularly in his official titulary, which also reflects his rule over both parts of Egypt, Upper and Lower (see Essay 2).

From the Fifth Dynasty onward, every Egyptian king had five official names, though not all of these are known for every king. Here is the fivefold titulary of the pharaoh Amenemhat III of Dynasty 12 (Gauthier, LdR I, 319–36):

The first part of the titulary is known as the Horus name. It is the oldest of the five names, and consists of three elements: (1) a falcon perched on (2) a schematic rendering of the archaic palace, within which is (3) the king’s name. The falcon is emblematic of Horus, the god of kingship. The schematic palace is known as a serekh (Egyptian srḫ, from the word srḫ “make known”). Its lower part represents the niched façade of early mudbrick palaces, and its upper part is a rudimentary ground plan of the palace. Together, the three elements are a hieroglyph meaning “The divine power of kingship (Horus) is incarnated in the individual X who resides in the palace.” The Horus name of Amenemhat III is bw, a nfr ḥr construction (§ 6.5) meaning “He whose impressiveness is great”—literally, “great of impressiveness.”

The second name is known as the Two Ladies. It first appears in Dynasty 1. The “Two Ladies” (nbtj) are the vulture-goddess Nekhbet (nḫbt), protector of Upper Egypt, and the cobra-goddess Wadjet (wdt), protective deity of Lower Egypt. Amenemhat III’s Two Ladies name is jt jwt twj “He who takes possession of the inheritance of the Two Lands.”

The third part of the titulary is the bjk nbw Gold Falcon name, also known as the Horus of Gold. In Egyptian it is called rn n nbw “the name of gold,” and is first attested in the Fourth Dynasty. Gold was the traditional material of the gods’ skins. With the falcon perched on top of the hieroglyph for “gold,” this name indicates that the king was the human incarnation of the god of kingship, Horus. The same idea is reflected in occasional statues of the king as a falcon; in one text Thutmose III of Dynasty 18 even calls himself bjk n nbw “a falcon of gold” (Urk. IV, 161, 2). The Gold Falcon name of Amenemhat III is another nfr ḥr construction: wḥ nḫ “He whose life is lasting”—literally, “lasting of life.”

The last two names of the titulary are almost always written inside a ring of rope called a “cartouche.” The Egyptian word for “cartouche,” šnw “circle,” refers to the circle of the world (see Essay 2), and the combination of the cartouche with the king’s name inside it originally indicated that the king has dominion over the whole world. Eventually, however, it became merely a device for marking a royal name; after the Middle Kingdom, the names of queens and royal children could also be written inside cartouches.

The fourth name is the king’s throne name, also called the prenomen. This is the youngest of the five names, first appearing in Dynasty 5. Eventually it became the most important of all the king’s names, and from the Middle Kingdom onward it is often the only name by which the king is mentioned in texts. The throne name usually honors the sun-god Re (whose hieroglyph is always written first, in honorific transposition). It seems to have been a kind of motto by which the king indicated what he intended to be the major theme of his reign; in some cases, pharaohs even adopted the throne name of an illustrious predecessor to show that their reign would be a revival of past glory. Amenemhat III’s throne name, n(j)-mt-r, means “He to whom the Sun’s world-order (Maat) belongs” (for the construction, see § 6.9, above).

The throne name is preceded by the title nswt-bjt, which means “he to whom the sedge and bee belong.” The sedge and bee are emblematic of Upper and Lower Egypt, respectively, so the title is usually translated as “King of Upper and Lower Egypt.” But the word nswt, more fully n(j)-swt, is also the general word for “king” (see Essay 3), and the nisbe bjtj “he of the bee” (see § 6.1) is a general term for “ancestral king,” so the title also identifies the king as the current incarnation of a line of royal ancestors. In this book it is translated “Dual King.”

The fifth part of the titulary is the Sun’s Son, or Son of Re, name, also called the nomen. First attested with a cartouche in Dynasty 4, the title z r “Sun’s Son” establishes a connection between the earthly king and the sun, the ruling force in nature. The name in the cartouche following this title is the king’s own personal name, given to him at birth. Amenemhat III’s nomen, jmn-m-ḥt, means “Amun in Front” and honors the god Amun of Thebes, ancestral home of the Twelfth Dynasty. Although Egyptian texts usually referred to the king by the throne name during his life and after his death, Egyptologists use the nomen instead. Since many kings were named after their fathers or grandfathers, a dynasty often had several kings with the same nomen. To distinguish these, Egyptologists number the kings (e.g., Amenemhat III). These numbers are a modern convention: they were not used by the Egyptians themselves.

Egyptian also used a number of other titles and epithets to refer to the king. The terms nswt “king” and ḥm “incarnation” were discussed in Essay 3. These were used only for Egyptian kings; foreign rulers were called ḥq “ruler” (also used for the Egyptian king) or wr “great one.” The term pr- “Big House” is also discussed in Essay 3; it is first used to refer to the pharaoh, rather than the royal estate, at the end of Dynasty 18. The king was also called jty “sire” (often spelled , a “false dual”); this word may be a nisbe from jtj “father” (if so, it should be transcribed jtjj rather than jty). Some common epithets of the king are ntr nfr “young god,” nb twj “lord of the Two Lands,” and nb ḫw “lord of appearances.” These are often used before the king’s cartouches, after the titles nswt bjtj and z r.

EXERCISE 6

1.Transcribe and translate:

a) — sḫr “plan”

b) (Peas. B1, 15) — jnw “products,” sḫt-ḥmt “Field of Salt” (Wadi Natrun Oasis)

c) (Westc. 5, 1) — t “room”

d)(Westc. 5, 3) — hnw “interior,” ḥ “palace”

e) (CT IV, 30b) — ḫt “Akhet” (see Essay 2), jbtj nisbe from jbt “east”

f) (Urk. IV, 862, 5)

g) (Helck, HBT, 28) — “big, great,” pḥtj “strength”

h) (pRam. IV D, 2, 2) — mnd “breast”

i) (Westc. 12, 8) — ḫt “thing”

j) (after Urk. IV, 618, 15) — wr “great,” mnw “monument”

k) (Siut I, 269)

l) (Kahun, pl. 36, 25) — zp “time, occasion”

m) (Urk. IV, 6, 9) — hnyt “crew” (collective: see § 4.6)

n) (Ebers 19, 11) — phrt “prescription” (collective: see § 4.6), ḫ “effective”

o) (Sin. B 92) — rnpt “year,” š “many”

p) (Sin. B 155) — mrwt “dependants” (collective: see § 4.6)

2.The following throne names are nfr ḥr constructions with an adjective followed by a direct genitive phrase. Transcribe and translate.

a) Pepi II (Dyn. VI, ca. 2246–2152 BC); k “life force”

b) Thutmose III (Dyn. XVIII, ca. 1479–1425 BC); mn “permanent,” ḫpr “evolution”

c) Hatshepsut (Dyn. XVIII, ca. 1473–1458 BC); mt “true” (fem.)

d) Ramesses I (Dyn. XIX, ca. 1302–1301 BC); pḥtj “strength”

1 The hieroglyph , which is different from the uniliteral , is a triliteral sign with the value tjw: see the Sign List, G4.

7.ADJECTIVAL AND NOMINAL SENTENCES

7.1Definitions

In the preceding lessons we have discussed three kinds of Egyptian words—nouns, pronouns, and adjectives—and some combinations of these words in phrases. Words are the basic building blocks of any language, and the most general way of referring to something. Phrases have a narrower focus: they make it possible to talk about something more specifically than single words do. Thus, the phrase sḫr pn jqr “this excellent plan”—which contains a noun (sḫr, “plan”), a pronoun (pn, “this”), and an adjective (jqr “excellent”)—is much more specific than the individual words themselves: sḫr alone could refer to any kind of plan, pn by itself does not indicate which “this” is meant, and jqr used separately just means “an excellent one” or “the excellent one.”

By themselves, words and phrases are just ways of referring to something. They don’t actually say anything about what they’re referring to. The Egyptian phrase sḫr pn jqr or the English phrase this excellent plan, for example, refers to a specific kind of plan, but doesn’t say anything about that plan. In order to say something about words or phrases, languages combine them into sentences.

Every sentence contains two parts: a subject and a predicate. Normally, the subject is what is being talked about, and the predicate is what is said about it. In the English sentence This plan is excellent, for example, This plan is the subject and is excellent is the predicate. In English, every normal sentence must contain a verb, such as the word is in the example just given. Verbs are the most complicated part of a language. This is true for Egyptian as it is for English; we will begin to consider Egyptian verbs in Lesson 12. The most common verb in English is be, and every English sentence must at least contain a form of this verb (such as is), unless some other verb is used instead. Thus, we can say This plan seems excellent, using a form of the verb seem; but we cannot say (in good, grammatical English) ∗This plan excellent, without any verb at all.

Although Egyptian has verbs, like English, it is different from English in one important respect: Egyptian has no verb corresponding to the simple English verb be. Egyptian is not unusual in this: many languages do not have such a verb, including modern Arabic and Russian. In such languages it is possible to make a perfectly grammatical sentence such as This plan excellent without any verb at all. These are called non-verbal sentences. Egyptian has several kinds of non-verbal sentences. In this lesson, we will look at non-verbal sentences that combine nouns, pronouns, and adjectives.

ADJECTIVAL SENTENCES

7.2Adjectival predicates

Although an Egyptian sentence may not necessarily contain a verb, it still must contain a subject and a predicate in order to be a sentence. In the English sentence This plan is excellent, the predicate consists of two words: the verb is and the adjective excellent. The verb is itself doesn’t really add much information to the sentence: what is really important is the adjectival part of the predicate, excellent. For that reason, grammarians call a predicate such as is excellent an adjectival predicate. Egyptian also has adjectival predicates: unlike English, they consist only of the adjective itself, without a verb. Egyptologists normally call sentences with such predicates “adjectival sentences,” which is short for the more accurate designation “sentences with adjectival predicates.”

All adjectival sentences follow the pattern ADJECTIVE–SUBJECT, with the predicate first and the subject second. This is the reverse of English, where the predicate is second: for example,

[picture] | jqr sḫr pn “This plan is excellent,”

literally, “excellent this plan,” where jqr is the predicate and sḫr pn is the subject. When it is used as an adjectival predicate, the adjective always has the simplest form, which is normally that of the masculine singular (§ 6.2). This is true regardless of whether it has a masculine, feminine, or plural subject: for example,

[picture] | jqr nn n sḫrw “These plans are excellent,” and
[picture] | nfr ḥjmt tn “This woman is beautiful.”

By definition, adjectival predicates must contain an adjective. Normally, only secondary adjectives (§ 6.1) are used as adjectival predicates. Examples with nisbes as adjectival predicate are limited (see § 7.5 below), and the primary adjective nb can only be used to modify a noun (§ 6.4).

The rule that adjectival predicates are masculine singular in form has one exception. Egyptian uses the old masculine dual form of the adjective (with the ending –wj: see § 4.7) in exclamatory adjectival sentences. These are almost always translated in English with the word How as the first word of the sentence: for example,

[picture] | nfrwj ḥjmt tn “How beautiful is this woman!”

literally, “This woman is doubly beautiful.” The ending is written in the same way as other dual endings: i.e., . Because the “weak” consonant j is often omitted in writing, it is important to remember that this is the only time an adjectival predicate can have an ending: thus, a sentence like must be read jqrw(j) sḫrw “How excellent are the plans!” and not ∗jqrw sḫrw “The plans are excellent.”

7.3The subject in adjectival sentences

The subject of an adjectival sentence is often a noun; this includes anything that can function like a noun, including noun phrases (like those in the examples above), as well as adjectives themselves (§ 6.4): for example,

[picture] | nfr dšrwt “The red ones are beautiful.”

The subject of an adjectival sentence can also be a pronoun. Only demonstrative pronouns and personal pronouns seem to have been used as subjects (§§ 5.2 and 5.8). Like nominal subjects, they always follow the adjectival predicate: for instance,

[picture] | nfrwj nn “How beautiful this is!”

When the subject is a personal pronoun, the dependent pronouns are used (§ 5.4). In Middle Egyptian normally only the second and third-person pronouns were used as the subject of an adjectival sentence; for first-person subjects Egyptian normally used a different kind of sentence, which we will meet later in this lesson. The pattern is the same as that for other kinds of subjects:

2ms | [picture] | nfr tw “You are good” (also nfr tw)
2fs | [picture] | nfr tn “You are good” (also nfr tn)
3ms | [picture] | nfr sw “He is good”
3fs | [picture] | nfr sj “She is good”
2pl | [picture] | nfr tn “You are good” (also nfr tn)
3pl | [picture] | nfr sn “They are good”
3n | [picture] | nfr st “It is good”; “They are good” (also ).

Personal pronouns are common as subjects in adjectival sentences. Like other subjects, the personal pronouns can also be used with “exclamatory” adjectival predicates ending in –wj: for example, nfrwj st “How good it is!”

7.4Additions to adjectival sentences

The combination of an adjectival predicate and its subject is the bare minimum needed for an adjectival sentence. Occasionally, however, other elements can be added to these:

1) wrt “very” is sometimes added between the adjectival predicate and its subject: for example, št wrt wt (Bersheh I, pl. 14, 1) “The path is very remote.”

2)Adjectival predicates, like adjectives themselves, can have comparative meaning (see § 6.8). The comparative phrase introduced by r comes after the subject: for instance, nfr st r ḫt nbt (ShS. 134) “It is better than anything” (literally, “It is good with respect to every thing”).

3)Instead of a noun subject, Egyptian often prefers to use a personal pronoun as subject with the noun expressed after it, in apposition to the pronoun: for example, r(w)dwj sw jb.j (Paheri, pl. 3) “How firm is my heart!” (literally, “Doubly firm (is) it, my heart”). Note that the pronoun sw and the noun jb.j agree in gender (masculine) and number (singular).

NOMINAL SENTENCES

7.5Nominal predicates

In the English sentence This plan is a disaster, the predicate consists of three words: the verb is and the noun phrase a disaster. As with adjectival predicates, the verb is doesn’t really add any information to the sentence: what is important is the nominal part of the predicate, a disaster. For that reason, grammarians call a predicate such as is a disaster a nominal predicate. Pronouns can also be part of a predicate: for example, The plan is that one.

Egyptian also has nominal predicates: unlike English, they consist only of the noun or noun phrase itself, without a verb. Egyptologists normally call sentences with such predicates “nominal sentences,” which is short for the more accurate designation “sentences with nominal predicates.” Egyptian nominal sentences are more varied than those that have an adjectival predicate. There are three types in Middle Egyptian, with the following patterns: A B, A pw, and A pw B.

7.6A B nominal sentences with pronouns

In Middle Egyptian, the A B pattern is mostly used when A or B is a pronoun. In such sentences, A is normally an independent pronoun (§ 5.5), and B is a noun or noun phrase: for example,

jnk wḥmw jqr (Hatnub 14, 9) “I am an able herald,”

where A is the independent pronoun jnk and B is the noun phrase wḥmw jqr (literally, “I an able herald”). Occasionally, A can be a noun or noun phrase if B is the neutral form of a demonstrative pronoun such as nn “this” (§§ 5.8–5.9): for example,

dpt m(w)t nn (Sin. B 23) “This is the taste of death.”

Note that the independent pronouns are always first (jnk B “I am B”) and the demonstratives are always second (A nn “This is A”). Under normal circumstances, however, the demonstrative stands as close to the beginning of the sentence as possible. In the example given above, it is last because the two elements of the direct genitive dpt m(w)t cannot be separated (see §§ 5.9 and 6.3). With an indirect genitive, the demonstrative can move farther forward:

jst nf nt ḫnt (Leb. 37) “That is a place of landing”

(i.e., a place one can land in). This is possible because the indirect genitive is actually an adjective, and like other adjectives that modify nouns it actually stands in apposition to the noun it follows (see § 6.4): thus, the sentence just cited literally means “That is a place, one belonging to landing.”

7.7A B nominal sentences with nouns

In the A B pattern, A and B can both be nouns or noun phrases, but usually only under a few special circumstances.

1)A or B contains a noun of kinship or the noun rn “name”; for example,

mjwt.j nwt (BD 69 Ca)

My mother is Nut

rn n (j)t(j).s¹ ywj (Urk. IV, 1741, 12, G)

The name of her father is Yuia.

In the first sentence, A is the noun phrase mjwt.j and B is the proper name nwt (see Essay 2); in the second, A is the noun phrase rn n (j)t(j).s and B is the proper name ywj. Nouns such as mjwt “mother” and rn “name” (which also means “identity”) are known as “inalienables,” because they designate relationships that are normally unbreakable: a person cannot choose to have a different biological mother, for example.

2)A and B contain the same noun in two different noun phrases: for example,

mkt.t mkt r (MuK. vo. 4, 7)²

Your (2fs) protection is the Sun’s protection.

Here A is the noun mkt.t and B is the noun phrase mkt r. This kind of construction is known as a balanced sentence. It is fairly common in Egyptian, and can be found in other languages as well: for example, modern colloquial Arabic beiti beitak “My house is your house.”

7.8A B nominal sentences of adherence

As we saw in § 6.9, the genitival adjective n is actually a nisbe n(j), meaning “belonging.” A special kind of A B nominal sentence uses this nisbe plus a personal pronoun as the A part of the sentence: n(j) A B means either “A belongs to B” or “B belongs to A,” depending on what the pronoun is.

When A has a dependent pronoun (§ 5.4), the sentence means “A belongs to B” (B is the predicate): for example,

n(j) wj r (Ebers 1, 7–8) “I belong to the Sun.”

In the spoken language, the nisbe n(j) and the dependent pronoun were apparently pronounced together as one word. For that reason, they are often written as one word in hieroglyphs, especially in the following combinations:

1S | n(j) wj | nw(j) = n(j)-w(j) “I belong” (*níwa)
3MS | n(j) sw | nsw = n(j)-sw “he belongs” (*nísu)
3FS | n(j) sj | ns(j) = n(j)-s(j) “she belongs” (*nísi).

This construction is very common in personal names of the pattern n(j)-sw-B or n(j)-s(j)-B, where B is the name of a god. The god’s name is written first, in honorific transposition: n(j)-sw-mntw (PN I, 176, 14) “He belongs to Montu.”

When A has an independent pronoun (§ 5.5), the sentence means “B belongs to A” (A is the predicate): for example,

n(j) ntk hrw (CT I, 254f) “The daytime belongs to you.”

As with the dependent pronouns, the combination of the nisbe n(j) and the independent pronoun was apparently pronounced as a single word. As a result, the of n(j) and the initial of the independent pronouns is often written only once, so that the combination n(j)-ntk (*ninták) for example, looks just like the independent pronoun ntk (*inták), as in ntk nbw (Urk. IV, 96, 6) “Gold belongs to you.” The combination n(j)-jnk *(ni’inák) with the first-person singular pronoun, is usually contracted to nnk (*ninák): for example, nnk pt nnk t (CT VI, 240f) “The sky is mine, the earth is mine.”

Normally, only the dependent or independent pronouns are used as A in the n(j) A B type of adjectival sentence. In personal names, however, both A and B can be nouns. In this case, B is usually the name of a god or the king, and the sentence means “A belongs to B”: for example, n(j)-nḫ-ptḥ (PN I, 171, 11) “Life belongs to Ptah” (with the god’s name in honorific transposition). Such names are very common in the Old Kingdom, but rare thereafter.

In all three types of the n(j) A B sentence, B is usually a noun, but it can also be a pronoun: for example, nnk sw (PN I, 172, 22) “He belongs to me.” B can also be the interrogative adjective (§ 6.6): n(j)-sw wr (Rhind Problem 45) “How much is it?” (literally, “It belongs to how much?”).

7.9A pw nominal sentences

The A pw pattern consists of two parts. The first part, A, can be any noun, noun phrase, or pronoun; B is the demonstrative pronoun or pw (§ 5.8): for example,

z.j pw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 84, 13) “He is my son.”

When it is used to modify a noun (§ 5.9), pw is always masculine singular, but in the A pw sentence it is neutral, and can have a masculine singular, feminine singular, or plural referent. Depending on the context, A pw can mean “He is A,” “She is A,” “They are A,” “It is A,” “This is A,” “That is A,” “These are A,” or “Those are A”: for example,

r pw (BD 17 Da) “It is the Sun”

ḥjmt wb pw (Westc. 9, 9) “She is a priest’s wife”

ḥwrw³ pw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 84, 8) “They are wretches.”

These are examples of the A pw sentence where A is a noun or noun phrase. A can also be an independent or demonstrative pronoun: for example,

ntf pw (Sin. B 267–68) “It is he”

p pw (Rhind Problem 60) “It is this.”

Like demonstratives in the A B nominal sentence, pw stands as close to the beginning of the sentence as possible. In the examples cited above, pw is last because A is either a noun (z.j, r, ḥwrw) or a direct genitive (ḥjmt wb), which cannot be separated. If the noun phrase in A has an indirect genitive or a modifying adjective, however, pw comes after the first noun of the noun phrase and before any modifiers (including the indirect genitive):

sḫtj pw n sḫt-ḥmt (Peas. R 1, 1)

He is a farmer of the Wadi Natrun

t pw nfr (Sin. B 81) “It is a good land”

ḥw pw ḥn sj (CT IV, 231a)

They are (the gods) Hu and Sia—

literally, “He is a farmer, one belonging to the Wadi Natrun” (for sḫt-ḥmt, literally “Field of Salt,” see Exercise 6, no. 2, and the map on page 28); “It is a land, a good one”; and “It is Hu, together with Sia” (§ 4.12).

7.10A pw B nominal sentences

As we saw in § 7.8, there are only a few instances in which the A B nominal sentence can be used if both A and B are nouns or noun phrases. Middle Egyptian normally uses a different nominal-sentence pattern, A pw B, if both A and B are nouns or noun phrases: for example,

phrt pw nḫ (Leb. 20–21) “Life is a cycle.”

As this example shows, A pw B usually means “B is A” (more on this in § 7.12, below). This pattern can also be used even if A or B is a noun of kinship: for instance, snt.f pw tfnt (CT II, 22b B1Bo) “Tefnut is his sister.”

In the A pw B sentence, pw always comes before B; but, as in the A pw sentence, it also comes as close to the front of the sentence as possible. This means that, in some cases, pw can stand “inside” A if A is a noun phrase with parts that can be separated: for example,

mnw pw n z(j) nfrw.f (Stewart, Egyptian Stelae II, pl. 18, 16)

His goodness is the monument of a man

instead of ∗mnw n z(j) pw nfrw.f (for nfrw, see § 4.6). If A is a direct genitive, of course, it cannot be separated:

hsrw dwt pw sr(j)w (Peas. B2, 48–49)

Officials are dispellers of evil.

7.11Summary of nominal sentences

The three nominal-sentence patterns are normally used with the following parts:

1)A B (“A is B” or “B is A”)

A is an independent pronoun: jnk wḥmw jqr “I am an excellent herald.”

B is a demonstrative pronoun: dpt mwt nn “This is the taste of death.”

A is the nisbe n(j) plus a personal pronoun: n(j) tw B “You belong to B,” n(j) ntk B “B belongs to you.”

Both A and B can be nouns or noun phrases if:

one includes a term of kinship or the noun rn “name”: mjwt.j nwt “My mother is Nut”; rn n jtj.s ywj “The name of her father is Yuia.”

the sentence is balanced, with the same noun in A and B: mkt.t mkt r “Your protection is the protection of the Sun.”

A is the nisbe n(j) plus a noun: n(j) A B, usually “B belongs to A.”

2)A pw (“It is A”)

A is a noun or noun phrase: z.j pw “He is my son.”

A is an independent pronoun: ntf pw “It is he.”

A is a demonstrative pronoun: p pw “It is this.”

3)A pw B (“B is A”)

A and B are both nouns or noun phrases: phrt pw nḫ “Life is a cycle.”

If you think about the three nominal-sentence patterns, you can see that A pw is actually a form of the A B pattern, in which B is always pw. In fact, then, there are only two nominal-sentence patterns in Middle Egyptian: A B and A pw B. With a few exceptions, they complement each other: A pw B is normally used when both A and B are nouns or noun phrases, and A B is normally used when one element is a pronoun.

7.12Subject and predicate in nominal sentences

In the adjectival sentence, it is obvious which element is the subject and which is the predicate. The adjective is always the predicate, since it says something about the noun or pronoun that follows, and not vice versa: thus, nfr ḥjmt tn says something about “this woman” (namely, that she “is beautiful”) and not something about “beautiful.” Also, the adjectival predicate always comes before its subject in the sentence.

It is not always easy to pick out the subject and predicate in nominal sentences. One way to figure out which element is which is to ask yourself what the sentence is about: this will identify the subject. Another way is to think of the sentence as the answer to a question: this will identify the predicate, since questions always ask for the predicate.

Usually, A is the predicate, as in the adjectival sentence. This is always true in the A pw sentence and usually also in the A pw B sentence. In the A B sentence, however, there are a few cases in which A is the subject rather than the predicate:

1)if A is the nisbe n(j) plus a dependent pronoun: n(j) wj r “I belong to the Sun.” This answers the hypothetical question “Who do you belong to?” so B (r) is the predicate. The construction actually means something like “The-one-I-adhere-to (is) the Sun.”

2)if A is a term of kinship or the noun rn “name.” Egyptian regularly puts kinship terms in A and the predicate in B: mjwt.j nwt “My mother is Nut” (answers the hypothetical question “Who is your mother?”). The noun rn can be either the A or B element, but since such sentences are used to tell what a person’s name is, the rn part is always the subject: rn n (j)t(j).s ywj “The name of her father is Yuia” (answers the question “What is the name of her father?”), bb z r-jnt rn.f (Urk. IV, 2, 11) “His name is Baba, son of Reinet” (answers the question “What is his name?”).⁴

3)in balanced sentences: for example, mkt.t mkt r “Your protection is the protection of the Sun” (answers the question “What is your protection?”).

If A is a first- or second-person independent pronoun, it can be the subject or the predicate. A sentence such as jnk ḥq “I am the ruler” can answer two different questions: “Who are you?” and “Who is the ruler?” In the first case, the subject is jnk “I” and the predicate is ḥq “the ruler”; in the second, the subject is ḥq “the ruler” and the predicate is jnk “I.”⁵ If A is a third-person independent pronoun, however, it is always the predicate: ntf ḥq can only mean “He is the ruler” (answering the question “Who is the ruler?”). For a third-person pronominal subject, Egyptian uses the A pw sentence: ḥq pw “He is the ruler.” Because a first or second person independent pronoun as A can be ambivalent in the A B sentence, Egyptian sometimes uses the A pw B pattern to make it clear that the pronoun is supposed to be the predicate: for example, jnk pw šw (CT II, 3d) “I am Shu” (answers the question “Who is Shu?”). This is not a very common construction.

Independent pronouns can therefore have two different functions in nominal sentences, as subject or as predicate:

Independent pronouns and pw as subject (answers the question “Who are you?”):

1s | jnk ḥq | “I am the ruler”
2s | ntk ḥq / ntt ḥqt | “You are the ruler”
3s | ḥq pw / ḥqt pw | “He is the ruler” / “She is the ruler”
1pl | jnn ḥqw | “We are the rulers”
2pl | nttn ḥqw | “You are the rulers”
3pl | ḥqw pw | “They are the rulers”

Independent pronouns as predicate (answers the question “Who is the ruler?”):

1s | jnk ḥq | “I am the ruler” (also jnk pw ḥq)
2s | ntk ḥq / ntt ḥqt | “You are the ruler”
3s | ntf ḥq / nts ḥqt | “He is the ruler” / “She is the ruler”
1pl | jnn ḥqw | “We are the rulers”
2pl | nttn ḥqw | “You are the rulers”
3pl | ntsn ḥqw | “They are the rulers.”

The two tables look the same except in the third person, where A pw is used for third-person subject pronouns but ntf B (etc.) when the pronoun is the predicate. Each of these tables, listing the different forms needed to say the same thing for different persons and numbers, is known as a “paradigm” (pronounced “PARE-a-dime”). Paradigms exist in every language. In English, for example, the present tense of the verb be has the following paradigm: I am, you are, he/she/it is, we are, you are, they are. Paradigms are an important part of every language, and must be memorized in order to understand the language. We will meet another paradigm in § 7.14, and more in future lessons.

As you can see, there are really very few cases where the identity of the subject and predicate in the nominal sentence are not obvious from the sentence itself. The list probably seems complicated when you read it through for the first time, but after a bit of practice you will find that identifying the subject and predicate comes almost naturally—as, of course, it did for the Egyptians themselves.

7.13Interrogatives in nominal sentences

In § 5.11 we met a number of interrogative pronouns. Most of these pronouns can be used in nominal sentences; when they are, they are always the predicate. The most common nominal-sentence patterns used with interrogative pronouns in Middle Egyptian are the following.

1)mj “who?”“what?”

This pronoun is mostly used in sentences that we will consider in later lessons. Occasionally, however, it can also be used with a personal pronoun as subject. Two patterns are found in Middle Egyptian:

INDEPENDENT PRONOUN + mj: twt mj (CT III, 59b) “Who are you?”

For twt, see § 5.5. This pattern, where the independent pronoun precedes mj, is found mostly in archaic religious texts.

jn mj + DEPENDENT PRONOUN: (j)n mj tr tw (BD 122 Nu) “Who are you?”

The words jn and tr are both particles (see § 5.12 ptr), and are not translated. The pronoun mj in nominal sentences is almost always used after jn. The combination jn mj was evidently pronounced as one word (∗iníma), which became nim in Coptic. The same pronunciation probably existed already in Middle Egyptian, since we occasionally find the spellings (ShS. 69) and (CT V, 102a) (j)n-mj.

2)ptr “who?”“what?”

The pronoun ptr is the most common interrogative in nominal sentences. It is always first in the sentence, and can be followed by a noun (or noun phrase) or a dependent pronoun as subject: for example, ptr rn.k (BD 125) “What is your name?,” ptj sj t r(w)d-ddt (Westc. 9, 8–9) “Who is she, this (woman named) Ruddjedet?”

3)jšst “what?”

This interrogative is occasionally used in the A pw nominal sentence jšst [pw] (Westc. 6, 25) “What is it?” (literally, “It is what?”).

4)zy “which?”

The pronoun zy is used in two nominal-sentence patterns in Middle Egyptian:

INDEPENDENT PRONOUN + zy: ntk zy (BD 122 Nu) “Which one are you?”

zy pw B: zy tj pw mjw pw (CT IV, 287a) “Which is that great cat?” The word tj here is a writing of the particle tr (see § 5.12 ptr), and is not translated.

As you can see from these examples, Egyptian prefers to put the interrogative pronoun first in the nominal sentence, except when an independent pronoun is the subject.

The interrogative adjective wr (§§ 6.6, 7.5.4) is also used in nominal sentences, as the predicate wr pw (Rhind Problem 73) “How much is it?” (literally, “It is how much?”).

USES OF ADJECTIVAL AND NOMINAL SENTENCES

7.14The first person in adjectival sentences

We saw above (§ 7.3) that sentences with an adjectival predicate are regularly limited to second and third-person subjects. In place of nfr wj “I am good,” Egyptian normally uses the nominal-sentence construction jnk nfr, literally, “I am a good one.” The usual paradigm for adjectival sentences with a pronominal subject is therefore:

1s | jnk nfr/nfrt “I am (a) good (man/woman)”
2m/fs | nfr tw/tn “You are good”
3ms | nfr sw “He is good”
3fs | nfr sj “She is good”
1pl | jnn nfrw/nfrt “We are good (men/women)”
2pl | nfr tn “You are good”
3pl | nfr sn “They are good”
3n | nfr st “It is good,” “They are good.”

It is important to remember that even though jnk nfr is used as the first-person counterpart of nfr tw and nfr sw, it is still a nominal sentence and not an adjectival one (which is why it can have two forms). The adjective in jnk nfr is (usually) the predicate, but it is a nominal predicate, not an adjectival one.

7.15Nominal vs. adjectival sentences

Sometimes Egyptian uses a nominal sentence where we might expect an adjectival one. In one text where a path is described, for example, the text says ḥns pw (Peas. B1, 25) “It is narrow.” The pronoun pw here shows that this is a nominal sentence (A pw). Even though ḥns “narrow” is an adjective, it is used here like a noun (see § 6.4), and not as an adjectival predicate: the sentence therefore actually means “It is a narrow one.” To say “It is narrow,” Egyptian would use the adjectival sentence ḥns st. Of course, there is not much difference in meaning between “It is a narrow one” and “It is narrow”; but the difference does exist, in Egyptian as in English, and you should be aware of it.

7.16Tense in nominal and adjectival sentences

All the adjectival and nominal sentences in this lesson were translated with a form of the English verb be. As we saw at the beginning of the lesson (§ 7.1), this verb is required in English but does not actually exist in Egyptian, since Egyptian nominal and adjectival sentences have no word corresponding to is (or to am or are). By adding these words in our English translations, however, we also introduce into the translations a feature called tense, which exists in every English verb form.

Tense refers to time. The verb is in an English sentence such as The path is very remote indicates that the path has the quality of remoteness at the time the sentence is spoken: this is called the present tense. If we say The path was very remote, we indicate that the quality of remoteness existed before the time of speaking—the path may still be remote, but the important thing is that it was remote previously: this is known as the past tense. And if we say The path will be very remote, we mean that this will be true after the sentence is spoken (whether or not it is true now): this is called the future tense.

Since Egyptian nominal and adjectival sentences have no verbs, they have no inherent tense. An Egyptian adjectival sentence such as št wrt wt (cited in § 7.4.1) simply connects the quality št wrt “very remote” with the subject wt “path” without limiting that connection to the past, present, or future. The same is true for a nominal sentence such as phrt pw nḫ (discussed in § 7.10): this simply connects the notion of phrt “a cycle” with that of nḫ “life,” without indicating whether the connection is supposed to be true in the past, present, or future.

Because they have no tense, Egyptian nominal and adjectival sentences are much more flexible in meaning than their English translations. Egyptian uses such sentences in two ways:

1)without reference to tense. Such statements are known as “gnomic.” They indicate relationships that are always true. In English, gnomic statements normally use the present tense. For example, the sentence phrt pw nḫ “Life is a cycle” says something about life that has always been true, is true when the statement is made, and will be true in the future.

2)with the tense of their context. Many sentences with nominal or adjectival predicates are not gnomic statements but are instead simply not specific about time. The sentence št wrt wt, for example, is not intended as the statement of a universal truth: instead, it is only meant to connect the quality of št wrt “very remote” with wt “the path.” The context in which this statement is made indicates when the connection is meant to be valid. If it occurs in a story, for example, it will normally have past tense: in fact, the text from which this sentence is taken accompanies a scene that describes the moving of a colossal statue from its quarry even though št wrt wt “the path was very remote.” The same sentence could have been used, however, by a scout reporting to the official that št wrt wt “the path is very remote” or even that št wrt wt “the path will be very remote.”

These uses mean that Egyptian nominal and adjectival sentences can be translated not only with the present tense (is, am, are) but also as past (was, were) or future (will be). Although this seems hazy compared to English, when you read actual texts you will find that it is not a problem, since either the sentence itself (e.g., phrt pw nḫ) or its context will indicate the tense automatically.

7.17Phrases and sentences

You may have noticed that some of the sentences we considered in this lesson look same as the noun and adjective phrases we met in previous lessons: for example,

nfr ḥr “good of face” (§ 6.5) or “The face is good” (§ 7.2)

mjwt.j nwt “my mother, Nut” (§ 4.11) or “My mother is Nut” (§ 7.8)

z.j pw “this my son” (§§ 5.8–5.9) or “He is my son” (§ 7.9).

For such short groups of words, taken out of context, it is in fact impossible to decide whether a phrase or a non-verbal sentence is meant. In actual texts, however, the context almost always indicates how the words are to be read. Most adjectival and nominal sentences, moreover, are clear enough in themselves that they can only be read as sentences, not as phrases.

ESSAY 7. HUMAN NATURE

The ancient Egyptians had very specific ideas about human nature. In order for every human being (including the king) to exist, five different elements were thought to be necessary. References to these elements occur in Egyptian texts of all kinds. To understand what the texts are talking about, we need to appreciate what the Egyptians thought about the five elements and their function in human life.

The easiest element for us to understand is the physical one: the body ḥ). The body is the physical shell within which every human being exists. The Egyptians recognized that the body derived from an individual’s parents, from the father’s seed planted in the mother’s womb. They also realized that it consisted of parts; for this reason, the collective noun ḥw, meaning something like “body parts,” was normally used as the word for “body.”

The most important part of the body was the heart ( jb). To the Egyptians, this was not only the center of physical activity but also the seat of thought and emotion as well (the Egyptians do not seem to have understood the function of the brain). This is a common human belief; we still have remnants of it in such English phrases as “brokenhearted” and “heartfelt wishes.” In Egyptian texts where the word jb is used, the translation “mind” usually makes better sense than the literal “heart.” To refer to the heart as a physical organ, Egyptian often used the word ḥtj (a nisbe from ḥt “front”: i.e., the “frontal” organ) rather than jb; sometimes, however, the two terms seem to be interchangeable.

With each body came a shadow šwt).⁶ This is an essential adjunct to the body, since every body casts one. Because the shadow derives from the body, the Egyptians believed it had something of the body—and therefore of the body’s owner—in it. The representations of gods are sometimes called their “shadows” for the same reason.

Every individual also had a ba b). This is perhaps the most difficult of the Egyptian ideas about human beings to understand. Essentially, the ba is everything that makes a person an individual except for the body. The ba also refers to the impression that an individual makes on others, somewhat like our concept of an individual’s “personality”; this notion underlies the abstract noun bw (usually written , a “false plural”), which means something like “impressiveness.” Like the Western notion of “soul” (with which b can be translated), the ba is spiritual rather than physical, and is the part of a person that lives on after the body dies. The Egyptians imagined it as being able to move freely from the mummified body out of the tomb and into the world of the living; for this reason, it is often shown, and written, as a human-headed bird (Fig. 6). The concept of the ba is mostly associated with human beings and the gods, but other things, such as a door, can have a ba as well. This is presumably because such things can have a distinct “personality” or make a distinct impression, even though they are not alive in the same way that human beings and the gods are.

Fig. 6. The ba visiting the mummy (CG 48483)

Along with a body, shadow, and ba, every living individual also had a ka k). This concept means something like “life force.” The ka is what makes the difference between a living person and a dead one: death occurs when it leaves the body. The Egyptians believed that the life force of the ka originated with the creator, was transmitted to mankind in general through the king, and was passed on to individual human beings from their fathers. The notion of this transmission was sometimes represented metaphorically as an embrace; this seems to be the origin of the “extended arms” sign with which the word k is written in hieroglyphs.

The Egyptians also thought that the ka was sustained through food and drink— understandably, since without these substances, human beings die. This notion underlies the abstract noun kw (written as a “false plural”), which means something like “energy”—specifically, the energy available from food and drink. It also lies behind the custom of presenting offerings of food and liquids to the dead. The Egyptians were aware that such offerings were never physically consumed by the deceased; what was being presented, however, was not the food itself, but the energy (kw) within the food, which the deceased’s spirit could make use of. During life, when a person was given something to eat or drink, it was often with the words n k.k “for your ka.”

Only human beings and the gods seem to have had a ka; even though animals were considered to be living beings, it is not known whether the Egyptians thought they had a ka as well. Like the ba, the ka was a spiritual entity. As such, it could not actually be depicted. To represent the ka, however, the Egyptians occasionally used a second image of the individual; for this reason, the word k is translated in older books as “double.”

The fifth essential element of every person was the name ( rn). Names were much more important to the Egyptians than they are in our society. They were thought to be essential parts of their owners, as necessary for existence as the four other elements. This is why Egyptians who could afford to do so expended a great deal of effort and resources ensuring that their names would continue to survive in their tombs and on their monuments—and conversely, why the names of some individuals were hacked out of their monuments by their enemies after death. Even during life, people could be essentially deprived of existence by banning their names: for example, a man named Mentuhotep, who had been banished from society, could be referred to as “he who is separate from the name Mentuhotep” (Hayes, PLMK, 54, 57–58).

The Egyptians considered each of these five elements an integral part of every individual, and they thought that no one could exist without them. This explains, in part, why mummification of the body was considered necessary for the afterlife (see Essay 8 for more information on this subject). Each element was also thought to contain something of its owner. This was particularly true for the name; the mention of an individual’s name can bring to mind a picture of that person, even if he or she is no longer living. Writing a person’s name on a statue or next to a carved image could identify the image with that individual and thereby give the person an alternative physical form other than the body. This is why Egyptian tombs contained statues and reliefs of the tomb owner; for the same reason, pious Egyptians often had statues of themselves carved to be placed in the temples, so that they themselves could always be in the presence of the god. By the same token, writing the name of a person on a small clay statue and then smashing the statue was considered an effective means of harming the name’s owner.

The identification of a name with its owner was so strong that names themselves were treated as persons. In fact, it often makes more sense to translate the word rn as “identity” rather than “name.” Knowing a person’s name was the same as knowing the person himself. For this reason, the gods—who are ultimately “too great to investigate, too powerful to know”—are often said to have “inaccessible” or “secret” names that no one can know, even the other gods.

EXERCISE 7

Transcribe and translate the following sentences; underline the predicate in each.

1. (Kahun, pl. 2, 11) — wr “great”

2. (ShS. 89)

3. (Beni Hasan I, pl. 26, 166–67) — mnḫ “effective”

4. (CT IV, 200b)

5. (Siut I, 288) — ḫt “property”

6. (Sin. B 155) — wsḫ “broad,” jst “place”

7. (Urk. IV, 1741, 12) — see n. 6 in this Lesson

8. (Helck, HBT, 28)

9. (Helck, HBT, 28) — “great,” pḥtj “strength” (false dual)

10. (Helck, HBT, 92) — ḥn “attack”

11. (Helck, HBT, 107 adapted)

12. (Urk. IV, 410, 11)

13. (Leb. 20) — qsn “difficult”

14. (Leb. 38) — dmj “harbor,” jmnt “the West”

15. (ShS. 182) — sdm “listening,” n “for,” rmt “people” (see § 2.8.1)

16. (ShS. 12–13) — šw “free, devoid,” ḥw “excess”

17. (ShS. 29–30) — mjk “fierce,” m “lion” (spelling from m “see”)

18. (ShS. 58–59) — ww “wave,” wd-wr “sea” (literally, “great blue-green”)

19. (ShS. 61) — from a story, past: ḥfw “snake”

20. (ShS. 62–63) — from a story, past: mḥ “cubit” (20 ²/₃ inches), “30”

21. (ShS. 63–64) — from a story, past: ḫbzwt “beard,” “2”

22. (ShS. 66) — from a story, past: rq “bent”

23. (ShS. 134)

24. (ShS. 152) — bw “thing, product,” wr “chief, main,” jw “island”

25. (CT IV, 37f) — jsjr “Osiris”

26. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 71, 11) — wb “clean,” “hand, arm”

27. (Bersheh I, pl. 15) — jtj “father”

28. (PN I, 172, 22)

29. (CT VII, 49m) — dt “self ”

30. (Peas. R 1, 2) — from a story, past

31. (Peas. R 8, 6) — mjtn “way, path”

32. (Peas. B1, 51–52) — mdw “speaker”

33. (Peas. B1, 148–49) — nḫ “pitiful,” mjr “needy” (see § 2.8.4)

34. (Peas. B1, 171)

35. (Peas. B1, 298) — ḥmw “rudder”

36. (Peas. B2, 39) — drw “requirement”

37. (Peas. B2, 49) — bw-nfr “goodness”

38. (Peas. B1, 320) — ḥmwtj “craftsman,” nisbe from ḥmwt “craft”

39. (Peas. B1, 351–52) — wḥ “lasting”

40. (Peas. B2, 92–93) — mḫt “scale, measure of worth,” ns “tongue”

41. (BD 1) — wndwt “tenants” (collective noun)

42. (Adm. 5, 14) — grḥ “end”

1 The word jtj “father” is usually written or , without either of the “weak” consonants and with the sign as a determinative.

2 The in mkt is taken from the word m.k “behold!,” originally mj.k.

3 Note the difference between the two birds and : the first, with a forked tail, is the biliteral sign wr; the second, with a rounded tail, is a determinative meaning “bad” or “small.”

4 For the spelling of bb, see § 9.5.

5 In spoken English, these have different stresses, because we normally put stress on the predicate: “I am the ruler” versus “I am the ruler.” We know from Coptic that Egyptian did the same thing in nominal sentences: jnk ḥq and jnk ḥq.

6 In this spelling, the sign is “tucked into” the belly of the quail-chick, even though it is to be read after the bird (i.e., as šwt, not šwtw). This arrangement is fairly common for and a bird sign, especially when it represents the feminine ending t; another example is mjwt “mother.”

8.PREPOSITIONS AND ADVERBS

PREPOSITIONS

8.1Definitions

Prepositions are words that languages use to relate one thing to another. In the English sentence Jill’s cat is inside the house, for example, the preposition inside relates the noun phrase Jill’s cat to the noun phrase the house, and indicates that the second contains the first. Prepositions are often followed by nouns or noun phrases, as in this example, but they can also be used with pronouns or by themselves. Thus, it is also possible in English to say Jill’s cat is inside it, substituting the personal pronoun it for the noun phrase the house, or simply Jill’s cat is inside, with the preposition used by itself. When a preposition is used with a noun, noun phrase, or pronoun, it is said to govern them. A preposition that is used by itself is said to function as an adverb, or adverbially; we will consider adverbs and adverbial function in more detail later in this lesson.

Prepositions are among the most idiosyncratic words of any language. Often it is impossible to translate the prepositions of one language exactly into those of another. The French preposition à, for example, must be translated with the English prepositions to, at, into, on, by, for, from, or with, depending on how it is used; conversely, the single English preposition by corresponds to the French prepositions par, à, sur, or en, also depending on the way it is used. In fact, it is rare to find a preposition in one language that corresponds exactly to one and only one preposition in another language.

8.2Primary prepositions

Egyptian also has prepositions, and it uses them much as English does its. Unlike English, however, Egyptian can have as many as three different forms of its prepositions, depending on how they are used. The following list shows the primary prepositions of Middle Egyptian (in alphabetical order), the different forms they can have, and the English prepositions or prepositional phrases that most often correspond to them.

1) jmjtw (also , etc.); adverbially jmjtw-nj “between, among”; adverbially “between them, among them”

This preposition means “between” when it is used with a dual and “among, amidst, in the midst of ” with a plural: jmjtw btj (Sin. R 28) “between two bushes,” jmjtw šzpw (Sin. B 249) “among the sphinxes.” When it is used with two different nouns (or noun phrases), the second is introduced by the preposition r (see § 8.2.7): jmjtw ḫst tn r nhrn (ZÄS 69, 29, 11) “between this country and Naharina” (literally, “be tween this country with respect to Naharina”). In texts from Dyn. 18, the preposition is often r-jmjtw (, etc.): r-jmjtw špsw (Urk. IV, 131, 12) “amidst the nobles.” The adverbial form jmjtw-nj is actually a compound of jmjtw and the adverbial form nj (see § 8.2.6).

2) jn “by”

The word jn is not really a preposition, but it is used like the English preposition by to indicate the agent with a passive verb-form (as in “I was blessed by the king”). In this use, jn is always followed by a noun or noun phrase, never a personal pronoun. We will consider this and other uses of jn in future lessons.

3) m (also ); with personal pronouns or adverbially jm (also ) “in”; adverbially “therein,” “there,” or “in it,” “of them,” etc.

This is the most common of all Egyptian prepositions. Basically, m means “in,” but English often requires other translations, depending on how m is used:

“in” or “into” space: m pr “in the house”; q m pr “enter into the house”

“in,” “by,” “for” or “during” time: m grḥ “in the night, by night”; m rnpwt 3 “for three years, during three years”

“in” a state: m ḥtp “in peace”

“in” or “of ” a material or contents: m jnr “in stone, of stone,” ḥ w m rnpwt “a period of years,” w jm.sn “one of them”

“from” or “of ” a place or state (i.e., starting from “in”): prj m njwt “emerge from the town,” šw m b “free from boasting, free of boasting”

“as” something or someone (i.e., “in” the capacity of): ḫ j m nswt (Urk. IV, 2027, 2) “appear as king”

“with,” “through,” or “by” something (i.e., “in” the use of): wrḥ m mrḥt “anoint with oil”; j--tdashb--j m nḫt “take possession through force”; njs m rn “call by name.”

4) mj (also ); adverbially my “like”; adverbially “likewise”

The preposition mj always indicates that one thing is like another. It can usually be translated as “like,” but English sometimes requires another translation:

“like” something: mj sḫr ntr (Sin. B 43) “like the plan of a god”

“in accordance with, according to” something: mj nt- .f nt r nb (Westc. 3, 11– 12) “according to his daily custom” (literally, “like his custom of every day”)

“as well as” something: hrw mj grḥ (Helck, HBT, 24) “day as well as night” (literally, “day like night”).

5) mm(j) (also , etc.)

“among, amidst”; adverbially “among them” (Merikare 8, 7; 12, 7)

Used with a plural noun or a noun with plural sense: mm nḫw (Helck, HBT, 29) “among the living,” mm mw (Urk. IV, 616, 9) “amidst the waters.” The difference between mm and jmjtw (§ 8.2.1) is that jmjtw indicates a specific physical position while mm is used in a more general sense, without specifying an actual position.

6) n (also nj, only before a noun); adverbially nj (also ) “to, for”; adverbially “thereto, therefor” or “for it,” etc.

The preposition n is used to indicate the goal of something. It is normally translated with the English prepositions for and to, but some uses require a different translation:

“to” or “for” something: rdj jw n jsjr (Sethe, Lesestücke, 63, 4) “giving praise to Osiris”; nfr sdm n rmt “Listening is good for people” (ShS. 182). The preposition n normally indicates the goal of motion when the goal is a person: e.g., šmj n ky (Peas. R 13, 6) “go to another person”

“at” in the sense of “to, toward”: dg n q ḥwj.k (Smith 7, 16) “look at your elbows”

“in, for” time: n jbd 2 “in two months,” n dt “forever”

“for, at, because of ” something: rmj n mr “weep for/because of pain.”

7) r; at the beginning of a sentence jr, sometimes also with personal pronouns (usually ); adverbially jrj (often ) “with respect to”; adverbially “thereto” or “with respect to it, pertaining to it,” etc.

The preposition r has the basic meaning “with respect to.” Depending on how it is used, many different translations are required in English:

“to,” “toward,” “at” a place or person: prj r pt “go to/toward the sky,” r rdwj ḥm.f “at the feet of His Incarnation,” spr r ḫnw “arrive at home,” hb r msw-nswt (Sin. R 22–23) “send for the king’s children”; r normally indicates the goal of motion when the goal is a place: e.g., šmj r nn-nswt (Peas. B1, 63–64) “go to Herakleopolis”

“at” a time: r tr pn (Sinai 90, 3) “at this season”

“to, in order to, for” a purpose: r jnt qw (Peas. R 1, 3) “in order to get rations”

“against” something: jrj r “act against” someone or something (vs. jrj n “act for, on behalf of ” someone or something)

“from” something, indicating separation or distinction: rḫ wḫ r rḫ (Urk. IV, 970, 1) “to know the foolish man from the knowledgeable” (i.e., “to know the difference between a foolish and a knowledgeable man”: literally, “to know the foolish one with respect to the knowledgeable one”), fḫ r kpnj (Sin. R 53) “depart from Byblos” (literally, “depart with respect to Byblos”). This is also the sense of r when it is used with a comparative adjective (§§ 6.8, 7.4.2): nfr r ḫt nbt “better than everything” (literally, “good with respect to everything”).

“concerning, about, according to” something: dd r “speak about” something (compare English “speak to the subject”); r hp “according to custom.”

at the beginning of a sentence, “as for” a noun, “if, when” with a verb: jr sf jsjr pw (CT IV, 193b) “As for yesterday, it is Osiris,” jr mr.k (Ptahhotep 298) “if you want”

8) ḥ (also ) “behind, around”

This preposition is related to the noun “back of the head.” Its basic sense is “around and behind”: pḫr ḥ jnb (Urk. IV, 261, 6) “going around the wall,” ḥ t (Ptahhotep 135) “behind bread” (i.e., at a meal).

9) ḥn ; adverbially ḥn w “with”; adverbially “with them,” etc.

The preposition ḥn indicates that one thing accompanies another: ḥn snw.j (ShS. 126) “together with my siblings.” The same meaning underlies the use of ḥn in coordination (§ 4.12), where it is usually translated “and”: ḥtj ḥn zm (Ebers 99, 13) “the heart and the lungs.” Note that the English preposition with has two different meanings, indicating accompaniment and means. The former corresponds to Egyptian ḥn ; the latter, to the Egyptian preposition m (§ 8.2.3).

10) ḥr (also ) “on”; with personal pronouns usually ḥr; not attested adverbially The preposition ḥr is related to the noun ḥr “face, surface” (spelled the same way).

It has the basic meaning “on” but its uses require many different translations:

“on, upon, in, at, by” something, indicating placement: ḥr wt “on the path,” ḥr ḫt q “upon a high tree,” ḥr rdwj “on foot,” ḥr wnmj.f “on his right, at his right,” ḥr kmt “in Egypt” (“on the Blackland”), ḥr jb.f “in his heart, on his mind”; prj ḥr hrw “come forth at the sound” of something; sw ḥr jz “pass by the tomb”

“than, with, and” indicating addition: jrj ḥw ḥr nfr (Amenemhat 1, 3) “do more than well” (literally, “do excess on good”), psj ḥr bjt (Ebers 19, 2) “cook with honey.” This meaning underlies the use of ḥr in coordination (§ 4.12), where it is usually translated “and”: d ḥr ḥyt (Westc. 11, 14) “stormwind and rain.”

“for, per,” indicating distribution: t-ḥd ḥr w b nb (Siut I, 273) “a loaf of white bread for each priest”

“from, of ” indicating physical origin (literally, “from on”): jjj ḥr jbhyt (JEA 31, pl. 3A, 14) “come from Ibhyt,” prrt nbt ḥr nse, of two things facing each otheḫt (Urk. IV, 965, 4) “everything that comes from the altar,” wn ḥwrw ḥr ḫt.f (Peas. B1, 262–63) “rob a poor man of his property”

“at, with, concerning, about, because of, for,” indicating cause (nonphysical origin): ḥtp ḥr “content at,” “content with” something, ḥzj ḥr “bless because of, on account of ” something, rs-tp ḥr “watchful concerning” something, jj ḥr “come about, come for” something; mhj ḥr “forget about” something; ḥ ḥr “fight for, on behalf of ” someone.

11) ḫft (not ∗ḫtf; also ); adverbially ḫftw (also ) “opposite, in accordance with, in response to, while”; adverbially “accordingly”

The preposition ḫft indicates that something is opposite something else. It is normally used in the spatial sense, of two things facing each other: ḥ ḫft “stand opposite, before” someone, dd ḫft “speak before/in response to” someone. The sense of opposition underlies the nisbe ḫftj “opponent, enemy.” When ḫft governs a noun or pronoun referring to a thing, it usually means “in accordance with”: ḫft zḫ pn “in accordance with this writing,” ḫft ḫy “according to measure.”

12) ḫnt (also ); adverbially ḫntw (also ) “at the head of ”; adverbially “before, previously”

The preposition ḫnt indicates position in front of something: ḥmsj ḫnt ntrw “sit in front of the gods.” It normally carries the connotation of superiority: ḫnt nḫw “at the head of the living.” The difference between ḫft and ḫnt is one of position: ḫft implies that two things are facing each other, while ḫnt indicates that something is first in line or priority. When used adverbially, ḫnt refers to time: ḫpr ḫntw “happen before, previously.”

13) ḫr “near”; not attested adverbially

The preposition ḫr indicates the proximity of one thing to another. It is regularly used when the noun, noun phrase, or pronoun governed by the preposition is someone of higher status: dd ḫr ḥm.f “speak to His Incarnation,” ḫr ntrw “in the presence of the gods.” This preposition is especially common in two phrases: ḫr ḥm n “during the incarnation of ” followed by a king’s name (i.e., “during the reign of ”); and jmḫy ḫr “honored with,” usually followed by the name of a god. Often ḫr is used to relate one person to others when the nature of the relationship cannot be direct because social customs prohibit a direct relationship or because the object is plural. Thus, an Egyptian speaks n “to” an equal or an underling, but ḫr “near” the king, a god, or msw.f “his children.”

14) ḫt “throughout”; not attested adverbially

The meaning of this preposition is essentially the same as that of its English counterpart: ḫpr ḫt t “happen throughout the land.”

15) ḫr; adverbially ḫrj “under”; adverbially “under it, under them,” etc.

The basic sense of ḫr is “under”: ḥmsj ḫr ḥtw (Leb. 133) “sit under sails,” ḫr mw “under water.” To be “under” something is also to carry or have it: hence, jw ḫr jnw “come with tribute.” Egyptian uses the preposition ḫr literally where English uses more general prepositions: tp ḫr jtj (Peas. R 7, 6) “loaded with grain,” ḫr ršwt (Helck, HBT, 94) “in joy,” wrd ḫr šmt (Ebers 102, 13) “tired from walking.”

16) dp; with personal pronouns often dp “atop”; not used adverbially

This preposition is related to the word dpj “head” (spelled the same way). It indicates position above something: dp jnb “on top of the wall.” Like ḥr (§ 8.2.10), dp often implies contact with a surface, but ḥr indicates closer proximity to the surface than dp: thus, nḫ dp t “live on earth” but sdr ḥr t “lie on the ground”; both prepositions can also mean simply “above.” When dp has to be translated in a way that does not imply position above something, this is usually because English views a relationship differently than Egyptian does: for example, English normally thinks of speech as lying “in the mouth,” while Egyptian puts it dp r “atop the mouth.”

17) dr “since, before”; adverbially “over, finished”

The preposition dr is related to the noun dr “limit, end.” In Middle Egyptian, it is used mostly in expressions of time: dr rk ḥrw (Merikare 9, 1) “since the age of Horus.”

8.3Compound prepositions

The seventeen words listed in the preceding section are all primary prepositions, each consisting of a single word. Besides these Egyptian has a large number of compound prepositions, formed from several words. Such prepositions are common in most languages. The English compound preposition alongside, for example, is derived from the preposition along and the noun side. Egyptian compound prepositions always contain at least one of the primary prepositions. They are formed in three ways:

1)preposition plus noun or noun phrase: for example, m ḥt “in front of,” r ḥt “to the front of,” and ḫr ḥt “at the front of,” all of which use the noun ḥt “front.” This is the most common way of forming compound prepositions; compare English alongside, inside, beside (from by side).

2)preposition plus infinitive or infinitival phrase (the infinitive is discussed in Lesson 14): for example, r db “in exchange for, instead of,” from the preposition r and the infinitive db “replace” (literally, “to replace”). Compare English together with (originally, to gather with).

3)adverb or adverbial phrase plus preposition: for example, ḥrw r “apart from, in addition to, as well as,” from the adverb ḥrw “apart” and the preposition r (literally, “apart with respect to”). Compare English apart from.

The meaning of most Egyptian compound prepositions is clear from their components, and we do not need to consider them individually here. In dictionaries (such as the one at the back of this book), you will find the meaning of a compound preposition listed under its major component. Thus, to find the meaning of ḫr ḥt, you would look under ḥt, while that of ḥrw r would be found under ḥrw.

8.4The object of prepositions

The noun, noun phrase, or pronoun that the preposition governs is called the object of the preposition. In many languages, nouns and pronouns have a special form when they are used as the object of a preposition. In English this is true only for personal pronouns; nouns, noun phrases, and other kinds of pronouns have no special form after prepositions in English: e.g., boys and for boys, the big boat and in the big boat, this and under this; but they and with them, not *with they.

Egyptian is the same as English in this respect: nouns, noun phrases, and other kinds of pronouns have no special form after prepositions: e.g., ḫrdw “boys,” n ḫrdw “for boys”; dpt t “the big boat,” m dpt t “in the big boat”; nn “this,” ḫr nn “under this.” For personal pronouns, Egyptian uses the suffix form (§ 5.3) as the object of prepositions: for example,

1s | [picture] | ḥn .j | “with me”
2ms | [picture] | ḥn .k | “with you”
2fs | [picture] | ḥn .t | “with you”
3ms | [picture] | ḥn .f | “with him, with it”
3fs | [picture] | ḥn .s | “with her, with it”
1pl | [picture] | ḥn .n | “with us”
2pl | [picture] | ḥn .tn | “with you”
3pl | [picture] | ḥn .sn | “with them.”

This is true not only for the primary prepositions, such as ḥn, but also for the compound prepositions: for example, m ḥt.k “in front of you” (literally, “in your front”), r db.s “in exchange for it” (literally, “with respect to its replacement”), and ḥrw r.sn “as well as them” (literally, “apart with respect to them”).

The prepositions jn “by” (§ 8.2.2) and mj “like” (§ 8.2.4) are not used with suffix pronouns. We will consider jn when we discuss the passive in a later lesson. Egyptian uses the noun mjtw or the nisbe mjtj (see § 8.6), both of which mean “likeness,” instead of mj with a personal pronoun: for example, sḫtj mjtw.j (Peas. B1, 314) “a farmer like me” (literally, “a farmer, my likeness”).

8.5The preposition n with adjectival predicates

The preposition n “to, for” is often used in a special kind of adjectival sentence in which the predicate has no subject. This usually corresponds to English sentences in which the pronoun it is used as a “dummy subject”: for example, nfr n.tn (Urk. IV, 123, 4) “It is good for you,” bjnwj n.j (Adm. 6, 8) “How bad it is for me!” Although English requires a subject, the pronoun it in such sentences really doesn’t refer to anything; for that reason, Egyptian simply omits the subject.

8.6Prepositional nisbes

As we saw in Lesson 6, Egyptian is able to make an adjective out of a noun by adding an ending (masculine –j, feminine –t) to the noun: for example, njwtj and njwtt “local,” from njwt “town.” Such derived adjectives are known as nisbes (§§ 6.1–6.2). The same procedure is used to make adjectives out of prepositions. Most of the primary prepositions have a nisbe form:

1) (also , etc.) jmj “inherent in”—from m “in”

2) (also , etc.) mjtj “similar”—from mj “like”; not always distinguishable from the noun (also ) mjtw “likeness” (see § 8.4). Both words are formed from an abstract noun mjt “similarity,” which is itself a feminine nisbe (“that which is like”) formed from mj.

3) (usually ) nj “belonging to”—from n “to, for”; also known as the “genitival adjective.” We have seen its use in the indirect genitive (§ 4.13.2) and as an adjectival predicate (§ 7.5).

4) (also , jrj “pertaining to”—from r “with respect to”

5) ḥ(j) “surrounding”—from ḥ “behind, around”

6) ḥn (j) “accompanying”—from ḥn “with”

7) (also ḥrj “upper, lying on”—from ḥr “on”

8) (often ḫftj “opposing”—from ḫft “opposite”

9) (often ḫntj “foremost”—from ḫnt “at the head of ”

10) ḫr(j) “adjacent”—from ḫr “near”

11) (often ḫrj “lower, lying under”—from ḫr “under”

12) (also dpj “standing atop”—from dp “atop.”

8.7Uses of the prepositional nisbes

Like other nisbes, those formed from prepositions can be used both to modify nouns and as nouns in their own right: for example, t ḥrt “an upper room,” ḥrt nbt “every upper one.” In both uses, prepositional nisbes often govern a following noun, noun phrase, or pronoun, just as prepositions themselves do. This kind of construction is usually impossible to translate directly into good English; instead, English has to use the words “who is, who are, which is, which are” followed by the relevant preposition, or the preposition alone: for example, ntrw jmjw pt “the gods who are in the sky” or “the gods in the sky” (literally, “the gods, the sky’s inherent ones”); jmjw.s “those who are in it” or “those in it” (literally, “its inherent ones”).

Prepositional nisbes are often used as nouns in their own right. Two very common examples of this are words designating a person’s office or function and phrases referring to gods or kings (the latter are called “epithets”): for example, jr(j)- t “room-keeper” (literally, “one pertaining to a room”), ḫr(j)-ḥ()b(t) (also written and ) “lector priest” (literally, “he who is under the festival-scroll”: the priest who carries the scroll with the liturgy for festival rites); ḫntj-jmntjw “foremost of the westerners” (literally, “he who is at the head of the westerners,” an epithet of Osiris), dpj-dw.f “he who is atop his mountain” (an epithet of Anubis).

Like other nouns, prepositional nisbes can be modified by adjectives, and can have suffix pronouns. Adjectives that modify prepositional nisbes always agree with the nisbe itself, not with the noun or pronoun that the nisbe governs: i.e., jrj- t nb “every room-keeper” (not jrj t nbt, which would mean “one pertaining to every room”). The adjective normally follows the entire nisbe phrase, as in the example just given; to avoid confusion about which element the adjective modifies, however, it can come between the nisbe and whatever the nisbe governs: for example, jrj nb sšm (Urk. IV, 1106, 3) “every functionary” (literally, “every one pertaining to a function”), as opposed to jrj sšm nb “one pertaining to every function.” Similar considerations govern the placement of suffix pronouns: thus, jmj ḥt.sn “he who is in front of them” (literally, “the inherent one of their front”) but jmj.sn ḥt “their predecessor” (literally, “their inherent one of the front”).

8.8Special uses of the nisbe

The nisbe ḫrj “lower, lying under” is often used to denote the possession of something: thus, the ḫrj-ḥbt “lector-priest” is the one who has (“who is under”) the scroll. If the nisbe modifies or refers to a place, it can indicate location: for example, (with honorific transposition; abbreviated ḫrj-ntr “the place where the god is” (“that which is under the god”), the Egyptian term for “cemetery” or “necropolis.” This use is particularly common with the word bw “place”: for instance, bw hr(j).f “the place where he is” (literally, “the place under him”).

8.9“Reverse” nisbes

Although a prepositional nisbe such as jmj often has to be translated in English as “who is in” or “which is in,” it is important to remember that such translations are only an approximation of the nisbe’s meaning: the nisbe itself is an adjective (in this case, meaning something like “inherent”). Like other adjectives, prepositional nisbes can also be used in the nfr ḥr construction. As we saw in §§ 6.5 and 6.9, a phrase such as š zrw “many of sheep” can be used to refer to someone who has many sheep: the adjective š actually refers to the sheep’s owner, even though it is the sheep themselves who are “many,” not the owner. Prepositional nisbes can be used in the same way.

Normally, a phrase such as mdt jmt pr would mean “the scroll that is in the house,” where jmt pr is an adjectival phrase indicating where mdt “the scroll” is. But since jmt is an adjective, the phrase jmt pr can also be understood as a nfr ḥr construction. In that case, although jmt still refers to mdt, it is actually pr “the house” that is “in” something, and not mdt “the scroll”: mdt jmt pr then means “the scroll that the house is in.” The phrase jmt pr (used by itself, without mdt) is actually an Egyptian idiom for “will” (as in “last will and testament”): it refers to a papyrus scroll in which the contents of a person’s estate (pr “house”) are listed.

Such uses are known as “reverse nisbes.” The relationship between jmt and pr in the reverse nisbe mdt jmt pr “the scroll that the house is in” is exactly the same as that between š and zrw in the nfr ḥr construction zj š zrw “a man many of sheep”: Egyptian makes the adjective refer to the noun it modifies (mdt and zj), even though what the adjective describes (š “many” and jmt “inherent, being in”) is actually a quality of the noun that follows it (zrw and pr). This is true even when the adjectival phrases are used by themselves, without a preceding noun: š zrw “he who has many sheep,” jmt pr “that which the house is in.”

Since a phrase such as jmt pr can mean both “that which is in the house” and “that which the house is in,” usually only the context will indicate which meaning is intended. For some phrases, however, the reverse meaning is normal. One very common example is the title jmj-r “overseer” (usually spelled or ). This seems to mean “the one in whom (jmj) the mouth (r) is”—i.e., the person who gives commands. It normally precedes another noun or noun phrase, indicating what the person is overseer of: for example, jmj-r pr “steward” (“overseer of the house”), jmj-r mš “general” (“overseer of the army”). As a prepositional nisbe, however, jmj-r can also mean “the one who is in the mouth”: for this reason, it is often spelled (e.g., jmj-r pr), with the sign of a tongue (i.e., “that which is in the mouth”), even though its normal meaning is apparently the reverse.

8.10Prepositional phrases as modifiers

English can use a prepositional phrase as a modifier: for example, the gods in the sky. In Egyptian, however, a prepositional phrase normally has to be converted to the corresponding nisbe in order to modify a noun: thus, ntrw jmjw pt “the gods in the sky,” and not *ntrw m pt. In a few cases, however, Egyptian does seem to use a prepositional phrase rather than the corresponding nisbe as a modifier. The most frequent examples of this involve the preposition m used adverbially in the expressions bk jm “the worker therein” (an idiom meaning “yours truly” or “your humble servant”) and w jm nb “every one of them.”¹

Another common instance of a prepositional phrase used as modifier involves the preposition n “to, for.” The genitival adjective n(j) “belonging to,” which is the nisbe of the preposition n “to, for,” is normally used as a modifier only when it is followed by a noun or noun phrase. This is the construction known as the “indirect genitive,” which we have already met (§ 4.13.2): z n(j) zj “the son of a man” (literally, “the son belonging to a man”). When the possessor is a personal pronoun, Egyptian normally uses the suffix pronouns: z.f “his son.” Occasionally, however, it can use a special construction consisting of the preposition n (not the nisbe), a suffix pronoun, and the nisbe jm(j) (also spelled jmy). This corresponds to the English construction “of him, of his,” and so forth: for example,

ms n.f jmy (Urk. IV, 1068, 10) “a child of his”

t ḥt n.n jmy (Urk. IV, 650, 5) “that front of ours”

hdmw n.sn jm(j) (Urk. IV, 666, 17) “the footstool of theirs.”

As these examples show, the gender and number of the preceding noun have no effect on the possessive phrase that follows: since n is a preposition rather than a nisbe, it does not have to agree in gender and number with the noun it modifies. In older texts, however, the nisbe jmj sometimes agrees in gender with the noun: prt-ḫrw n.k jmyt (CT III, 259g) “the invocation-offering of yours” (modifying the feminine noun phrase prt-ḫrw, literally, “the sending-forth of the voice”).

ADVERBS

8.11Definitions

Adverbs are words or phrases that languages use to indicate where, when, why, or how something happens or is true. The primary use of adverbs is to modify verbs (the word “adverb” means “attached to a verb”): for example, in the sentence The treaty was signed here, the adverb here tells where the treaty was signed (was signed is a verb form). Prepositional phrases can be used as adverbs: thus, we can also say The treaty was signed in this room, with the prepositional phrase in this room indicating where the treaty was signed.

Adverbs can modify adjectives, prepositions, or other adverbs, as well as verbs. We have already seen an example of an adverb used to modify a preposition: in the English compound preposition apart from (§ 8.3.3), the adverb apart specifies the meaning of the preposition from. Adverbs have the same function when they are used to modify adjectives or other adverbs: in the phrase a moderately heavy rain, for instance, the adverb moderately specifies how heavy the rain is; similarly, in the phrase almost always the adverb almost narrows the meaning of the adverb always. Adverbs are similar to adjectives: just as adjectives or adjectival phrases modify nouns (§ 6.1), adverbs or adverbial phrases are used to modify verbs, adjectives, prepositions, and other adverbs.

Adverbs can be single words, such as here, apart, and moderately. They can also consist of several words, such as almost always; this is called an adverbial phrase. Most adverbial phrases are actually prepositional phrases used as adverbs, as in the example in this room, given above. Although prepositions themselves are not adverbs, prepositional phrases normally are, since such phrases usually indicate where, when, why, or how something happens or is true. Prepositions themselves can also be used as adverbs, as we saw in § 8.1.

8.12Primary adverbs

Primary adverbs are single words that are not derived from another word and are used exclusively as adverbs. Middle Egyptian has perhaps three such adverbs: “here”; rsj “entirely, at all” (also rssj); and grw “also, further, any more” (usually gr).

8.13The interrogative adverb

We have already met the interrogative pronouns (§ 5.11) and adjective (§ 6.6). Middle Egyptian has one interrogative adverb: tn(j) “where?” (also tnj, etc.; and tnw, a spelling taken from the word for “each,” § 6.7). Like the other interrogatives, tnj is used only in questions—mostly in sentences with an adverbial or verbal predicate, which we will treat in later lessons. For other interrogative adverbs, Egyptian uses a preposition plus an interrogative pronoun (§ 5.11): for example, mj mj, mj jḫ “how?” (literally, “like what?”); ḥr mj, r mj “why?” (literally, “because of what?, with respect to what?”). Interrogative “when?” is expressed by the pronoun zy plus a noun of time: for instance, zy nw “when?” (literally, “which time?”).

8.14Other adverbs

In English, many adverbs are formed from adjectives by adding the ending –ly: for example, badly (from bad) and moderately (from moderate). Egyptian also formed adverbs from adjectives. Sometimes the adverb looks the same as the adjective: for example, nfr “well” (from the adjective nfr “good”), š “often” (from š “many”), wr “much” (from wr “great”). Often, an ending –w is added to the adjective, as in w “greatly” (from “big”). Since w is a “weak” consonant, however, it can be omitted in writing (§ 2.8.3), and these adverbs, too, often look like the adjectives they come from. Egyptian also forms adverbs from adjectives by adding a final –t: the most common example is wrt “very” (from wr “great”), which we met in § 7.4.1. Adverbs can be made by using a preposition with the feminine adjective: for example, r t “greatly” (literally, “with respect to what is great”), m m(w)t “anew” (literally, “in what is new”). These are regular prepositional phrases, in which the adjective is used as a noun.

Egyptian, like English, can use nouns of time as adverbs. In English, the noun today, for example, can be used both as a noun (That’s enough for today) and adverbially (Jill will sing today). Some common Egyptian nouns used in this way are mjn “now,” sf “yesterday,” and dt “forever.” Noun phrases are used in the same way: for example, hrw pn “this day, today,” and r nb “every day.” Middle Egyptian also uses prepositions with such nouns to form adverbs: m mjn “today,” n dt “forever.”

English can use the reflexive pronouns as adverbs, as in Jack did it himself. One Egyptian counterpart of this is the noun (or ds “self ” plus a suffix pronoun, used adverbially: for example, ḫft ḥr (n)swt ds.f (Helck, HBT, 49) “in front of the face of the king himself.” When ds plus a suffix pronoun modifies another suffix pronoun, it often has to be translated by the English adjective “own”: for instance, m hw.k ds.k (Westc. 6, 24) “in your own day and age” (literally, “in your time yourself ”).

8.15Prepositional adverbs

As in English, a prepositional adverb is simply the preposition used without an object: rdj ḫt jm.s “put something in it,” rdj ḫt jm “put something in.” Most of the primary prepositions can have this function, as we saw in § 8.2; and for those that apparently cannot, adverbial use may simply not be attested in surviving texts. In most cases the primary preposition has a special form in adverbial use, usually made by adding the ending –j or –w to the preposition: my (= mjj), nj, jrj, ḫrj; ḥn w, ḫftw, ḫntw. Some prepositions can also be used adverbially by adding the prepositional adverb jrj to the regular form of the preposition: ḫft jrj “accordingly” (instead of ḫftw), mm jrj “among them” (instead of mm). Compound prepositions formed of a preposition plus a noun or infinitive can be used adverbially just by omitting the object: jjj m ḥt “come in front,” rdj r db “give in exchange.” Compounds in which the preposition is preceded by an adverb use the adverbial form of the preposition: ḥrw jrj “additionally.”

Egyptian is much freer than English in using prepositions adverbially. English often uses a different word in place of the prepositional adverb, or requires a pronominal object: for example, Jack spoke about Jill or Jack spoke about her, but not ∗Jack spoke about. Some English prepositional adverbs were originally formed by adding the prefix there– to the preposition: thereabout, therein, thereby, therewith, therefrom, etc. This procedure is now considered archaic for all but a few prepositions, though it is still used in formal or legal English. Because of this difference between the two languages, English translations of Egyptian prepositional adverbs often have to add a pronominal object that does not appear in Egyptian: for example, gs zj jm “anoint a man with it,” or more archaically “anoint a man therewith.”

8.16Uses of adverbs

When adverbs modify prepositions, they normally precede the preposition. This use is common in compound prepositions such as ḥrw r “apart from” (§ 8.3.3); similarly, š m “starting from,” nfryt r “down to.” Adverbs that modify adjectives or other adverbs normally follow the word they modify: for example, jqr wrt “very excellent,” r t wrt “very greatly.”

Adverbs do not normally modify nouns, either in Egyptian or in English. An exception in Egyptian, involving the prepositional adverb jm, has already been noted in § 8.10 above. Other uses of adverbs will be discussed in later lessons.

8.17Comparative and superlative adverbs

English adverbs that are formed from adjectives can have comparative or superlative meaning, indicated by using the adverbs more and most in front of the adverb: for example, greatly, more greatly, most greatly. Egyptian adverbs derived from adjectives can also have comparative or superlative sense. Like adjectives (§ 6.8), they have no special form to indicate this meaning, and the sense is usually obvious from the context in which they are used. In some cases, however, comparative meaning is indicated by a phrase introduced by the preposition r, as it is for adjectives: for example, wrt r ḫt nbt “more greatly than anything” (literally, “greatly with respect to everything”).

ESSAY 8. DEATH AND THE AFTERLIFE

The ancient Egyptians believed that death occurred when the ka (see Essay 7) left the body. After death the body was mummified by packing it in natron, a kind of salt, in order to remove all moisture from it. The embalmers also removed the major internal organs, leaving only the heart in place. The brain was pulled out through the nose in pieces, by means of a metal hook, and discarded. The liver, lungs, stomach, and intestines were surgically removed, mummified separately, and placed in four vases, called Canopic jars, each topped by a lid representing one of the four gods known as the “sons of Horus”: Imseti jmstj, human-headed), for the liver; Hapi ḥpy, baboon-headed), for the lungs; Duamutef dw-mjwt.f, jackal-headed), for the stomach; and Qebehsenuef qbḥ-snw.f, falcon-headed) for the intestines. After drying out, the body was wrapped in linen bandages (to keep it from falling apart) and anointed with oils. The bodies of poor people who could not afford mummification were wrapped in a reed mat and buried in a grave dug in the sand; ironically, this practice often dried and preserved them better than those that were mummified artificially.

The entire process of mummification took seventy days. At the end of that time the body was escorted to its tomb in the necropolis, normally located in the desert cliffs on the west side of the Nile. At the tomb priests performed a ceremony on the mummy, or on a statue of the deceased, known as the “Mouth-Opening Ritual.” This was intended to give back to the dead person’s spirit the use of the mouth and the body’s other senses. A bull was then slaughtered and other offerings of food and drink were presented, before the body and its grave goods were finally buried.

Egyptian tombs had two parts. The body was interred along with its grave goods in a burial chamber below ground; this room was sealed after the funeral, and was supposed to be inaccessible from then on. Above ground was a chapel (or, in the case of royal tombs, an entire temple): here offerings could be made and prayers said for the deceased. The chapel was normally decorated with images of the deceased and scenes of people bringing offerings, and could consist of many rooms. Its focal point was a niched recess in the west wall, known as a “false door,” with an offering slab placed in front of it. Through this niche, the spirit of the dead person could emerge from the burial chamber to partake of the nourishment (kw) in the offerings (Fig. 7; see Essay 7).

Fig. 7. The ba emerging from the false door (Tomb of Mereruka, author’s photo)

The offering slab is at the top of the stairs.

The ceremonies performed at the funeral were meant not only to restore the dead person’s physical abilities but, more importantly, to release the ba from its attachment to the body, so that it could come and go at will. The ba was supposed to rejoin its life-force (the ka), so that the dead person could continue to live: the deceased are often called “those who have gone to their kas.” Once this reunion had taken place, the deceased became a b nḫ “living ba” and an ḫj “akh”—literally, an “effective one”—able to live on in a new, nonphysical form.

Before this could happen, however, the deceased had to pass a final judgment (Fig. 8). In that trial, the heart of the dead person was weighed in a scale against a feather , the hieroglyph for mt (Maat), an abstract noun meaning, among other things, “proper behavior.” Ideally, the two sides of the scale should balance, showing that the person had lived a just and proper life. If they did, the deceased was declared m ḫrw (abbreviated or “justified” (literally, “true of voice”) and allowed to join the society of the dead. In funerary papyri such as the “Book of the Dead,” this transition is represented in a scene where Horus, king of the living, formally presents the deceased to Osiris, king of the dead.

Fig. 8. The weighing of the heart (Book of the Dead of Hunefer)

The deceased is led in by Anubis, left, and introduced to Osiris by Horus, right.

The weighing is conducted by Anubis and recorded by Thoth.

Below the scales sits a beast who will devour the heart if it is not “true of voice.”

The Egyptians thought of the afterlife not as a kind of continual angelic state in some paradise but as a daily non-physical existence on earth. The model for this new existence was the daily journey of the sun (see Essay 2). At night the sun descended into the Duat. In his journey through this nether region, he eventually came upon the mummified body of Osiris. The two gods joined and became one: from Osiris the sun received the power of new life, and through the sun Osiris was enabled to live again. Thus rejuvenated, the sun was able to continue his journey through the Duat and rise to new life again in the morning.

For each dead person, the burial chamber and its mummy were a kind of individual Duat and Osiris; this explains why preservation of the body was so important for the Egyptians, and why the deceased was often addressed as “Osiris” So-and-So. At night, the ba would rejoin the mummy in its tomb. Through this union, it would receive the power of new life and be able to wake up at sunrise and emerge from the tomb as a spirit. During the day it could move about among the living, though on a different plane of existence, more like that of the gods, without the discomforts and hardships of physical existence. One text describes this ideal existence as follows:

Becoming again a living ba … your life happening again, without your ba being kept away from your corpse, and with your ba being divine together with the akhs … you coming out each morning and returning each evening; a lamp lit for you in the night until the sunlight shines forth upon your breast; you being told: ‘Welcome, welcome,’ in this your house of the living (Paheri, pl. 9).

The ancient Egyptians felt themselves surrounded, and comforted, by the spirits of their ancestors living among them.

EXERCISE 8

Transcribe and translate the following phrases and sentences:

1. (Sin. B 31)

2. (Sin. B 194) — šm “chanter”

3. (Sin. R 63) — w rt “flight”

4. (Sin. B 193) — pt “sky”

5. (Sin. B 45) — sḫmt “Sekhmet,” rnpt “year,” jdw “pestilence”

6. (Sin. B 57–58) — ḥ “steady,” t “moment,” ss “backing (retreat)”

7. (Urk. IV, 1021, 5) — ḫt “wake, aftermath,” jw “old age”

8. (Sin. R 44–45) — wršy “watchman,” jnb “wall,” hrw “shift”

9. (Adm. 4, 12) — pḫrt “remedy”

10. (Sin. B 182–83) — zḥ “counsel, advice”

11. (Sin. B 113) — wḥyt “tribe”

12. (Pyr. 122b Q1Q) — hrw “day,” sf “yesterday”

13. (Sin. B 205) — ḥtp “peace”

14. (Sin. B 82) — jrp “wine,” mw “water”

15. (Sin. B 267–68) — mt “truth”

16. (BM 574, 15)

17. (Sin. B 43)

18. (Sin. R 55) — ḥq “ruler,” rtnw “Retjenu” (the region of Lebanon: see § 4.4)

19. (Sin. AO 8–9) — qdnw “Qatna” (a town in Syria)

20. (Sin. AO 25) — ḥrw “Horus,” ḫst “foreign land, desert”

21. (Sin. B 252) — jst “throne,” wmwt “niche,” d m “electrum”

22. (Sin. B 105–106) — ḫpš “strong arm,” pdt “bow”

23. (Sin. B 244) — sḫtj “peasant,” mnḫ “efficient”

24. (Sin. AO 41) — ḥm “servant”

25. (Sin. B 213–14) — nḥ “prayer”

26. (Peas. B1, 350 = B2, 83–84)

27. (Amenemhat 3, 8)

28. (Merikare 13, 4)

29. (Sin. B 34–35) — pḥ.n.k “you have reached”

30. (Urk. IV, 649, 12) — mjktj “Megiddo” (town in Canaan)

31. (Khety II, 89) — fn “miserable,” prt “going out”

32. (CT II, 271e S1C)

1 The adverb jm “of them” (§ 8.15) in w nb jm has the same sense as the preposition m in w m n n (Peas. R 9, 4) “one of those donkeys” (see § 8.2.3; for n n “those donkeys,” see § 5.9). The adjective nb “every” modifies w but is after jm because Egyptian prefers to keep the phrase w jm together.

9.NUMBERS

9.1Numerals

Ancient Egyptian used a decimal system of counting, as we do in English: that is, in ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, and so forth. Like English, too, Egyptian normally wrote numbers with numerals (numerical symbols) rather than by spelling out the words for each number. The two languages differ, however, in their approach to written numbers.

In English we use ten numerals (0–9) and a positional system of notation: the numeral 3, for example, means “three” if it is used by itself, but “thirty” if it is followed by another numeral (for instance, 36), “three hundred” if it is followed by two numerals (e.g., 328), and so forth. Egyptian uses six numerals and a repetitional system of notation. The six numerals are the following:

[picture] | 1 — for units
[picture] | 10 — for tens
[picture] | 100 — for hundreds
[picture] | 1,000 — for thousands
[picture] | 10,000 — for ten-thousands
[picture] | 100,000 — for hundred-thousands.

In hieroglyphic, each of these numerals is repeated the necessary number of times to indicate the number: for example, 2, 3,000, 70,000.¹ The smaller signs (for 1, 10, and 100) are usually arranged in groups: for example, 5, 600. Numbers that combine more than one numeral are always arranged from the largest numeral to the smallest: for example,

(Urk. IV, 630, 16a) | 152,123 (= 100,000 + 5×10,000 + 2×1,000 + 100 + 2×20 + 3×1).

In texts written from left to right, like this example, the numerals follow the same order as English numerals; in those written from right to left, the order is the opposite: e.g., 2,603.

In addition to the repetitional method of indicating numbers, Middle Egyptian sometimes employed a true multiplication system for numbers above 10,000:

(Kahun, pl. 8, 19) | 470,000 — i.e., 4×100,000 + 7×10,000.

This system was also used to indicate numbers in the millions:

(Harris I, 73, 5) | 10,100,000 — i.e., 101×100,000.

Egyptian also has a separate sign for 1,000,000, but this is more common in Middle Egyptian as a number of indefinite rather than precise value: “many,” “a million.”

As this system makes clear, the Egyptians had no regular symbol for zero. When subtractions resulted in zero in accounts and mathematical texts, scribes either left a blank space or wrote the sign , an abbreviation for the word nfrw “depletion.”

9.2Cardinal numbers

Numbers used in counting are called cardinal numbers: in English, one, two, three, etc. In Egyptian, cardinal numbers are normally indicated in hieroglyphs by numerals instead of words; only the number “one” is usually spelled out. It is rare to find the other numbers spelled out, but we are able to reconstruct the transcription of the basic (oneword) numbers from Coptic:

| MASCULINE | FEMININE | COPTIC
one | w | wt | oya, oyei
two | snwwj | sntj | snay, snte
three | ḫmtw | ḫmtt | šomnt, šomte
four | jfdw | jfdt | wtoou, wto
five | djw | djt | +ou, +e
six | sjsw | sjst | sooy, se
seven | sfḫw | sfḫt | sašw, sašwe
eight | ḫmnw | ḫmnt | šmoyn, šmoyne
nine | psdw | psdt | 2it, 2ite
ten | mdw | mdt | mht, mhte
twenty | mdwtj | mdwtt | joyvt, joyvte
thirty | mb | mbt | maab, maabe
forty | ḥmw |  | xme
fifty | djjw |  | taïoy
sixty | sjsjw |  | se
seventy | sfḫjw |  | šfe
eighty | ḫmnjw |  | xmene
ninety | psdjw |  | pstaioy
one hundred |  | št | še
two hundred |  | štj | šht
one thousand | ḫ |  | šo
ten thousand | db |  | tba
one hundred thousand | ḥfn |  | —
one million | ḥḥ |  | —

The units (from w to psdw) and the tens from mdw to mb have masculine and feminine forms; the rest of the cardinal numbers are masculine, except for št and štj, which are feminine. All the numbers behave like singular nouns, although snwwj/sntj, mdwtj, and štj were originally duals.

The cardinal numbers not on this list were formed by combining two or more cardinals. For the most part, Egyptian seems to have been similar to English in this respect: for example, ḫ ḫmnw-št ḥmw-sjsw “(one) thousand eight-hundred forty-six.” In such compound numbers the one-word cardinals with two forms apparently used the masculine, except for the final cardinal, which could take either the masculine or the feminine form (if it had one): thus, ḫmtw-št mb (m) and ḫmtw-št mbt (f) “threehundred thirty.”

In a few cases, the formation of Egyptian compound numbers seems to have been different from that of their English equivalents. The cardinals from eleven to nineteen were compounds: for example, mdw-w “eleven” (m), mdw-ḫmtt “thirteen” (f). Although štj “two-hundred” was a single word (originally dual), the words for “two thousand” (ḫ snwwj) and “twenty thousand” (db snwwj: literally, “two ten-thousand”) were compounds, with a word-order the reverse of that of other compounds. Since Egyptian uses different words for the thousands and ten-thousands, the compounds of the cardinals for ten-thousand and higher are different than their English counterparts: for example, djw db “fifty thousand” (“five ten-thousand”), mdw-snwwj db “one-hundred-twenty thousand” (“twelve ten-thousand”). This probably also applied to the millions: i.e., štj db “two million” (literally, “two-hundred ten-thousand”). Since ḥḥ is not strictly a number word, the word for “one million” as a number was perhaps št db, literally, “one-hundred ten-thousand.”

It is not necessary to learn all these number words in order to read hieroglyphic texts, since the cardinal numbers are usually represented in hieroglyphs by numerals. In transcription they are normally represented by English numerals rather than by the corresponding Egyptian number word: for example, mḥ 30 (instead of mḥ mb) “30 cubits” (§ 9.7.1).

9.3Ordinal numbers

Words used to indicate numerical order in a series are called ordinal numbers: in English, first, second, third, etc. To form ordinal numbers in English, we add the ending –th to the cardinals except for the numbers 1 to 3, for which there are special words. In Egyptian, there is a special word only for “first,” which is always spelled out: masculine dpj , feminine dpt . This is actually the same word as the prepositional nisbe dpj “standing atop” (§ 8.5.12).

The ordinals from “second” to “ninth” are formed by adding the endings –nw , masculine singular) and –nwt , feminine singular) to the root of the cardinal numbers:

snnw, snnwt | “second”
ḫmtnw, ḫmtnwt | “third”
jfdnw, jfdnwt | “fourth”
djnw, djnwt | “fifth”
sjsnw, sjsnwt | “sixth”
sfḫnw, sfḫnwt | “seventh”
ḫmnnw, ḫmnnwt | “eighth”
psdnw, psdnwt | “ninth.”

These are usually written with numerals plus the ending (e.g., 2nw “second,” 6nwt “sixth”), but they can also be spelled out: for example, snnw² “second,” ḫmtnw “third.”

The rest of the ordinals, from “tenth” upwards, are formed by adding the words mḥ , masculine singular) and mḥt , feminine singular) before the cardinal number: for example, mḥt-10 “tenth,” mḥ-200 “two-hundredth.”

9.4Use of the numbers

The cardinal numbers are grammatically nouns, and can be used by themselves and modified like other nouns: for example, 3 pn (Peas. B1, 182) “these 3,” kt 100 (Siut IV, 25) “another 100.” The ordinal numbers are adjectives, but like other adjectives they can also be used by themselves as nouns: for example, ḥr 2nwt.s (Merikare 6, 2) “upon its second one.”

When ordinal numbers modify a noun (or noun phrase), they normally follow it, like other adjectives: wdyt 6nwt (Urk. IV, 689, 5) “the 6th expedition,” zp dpj “the first occasion.” Occasionally, however, they can precede the noun they modify: in that case, the noun either stands in apposition to the ordinal, or it is connected to it by an indirect genitive (§§ 4.11. 4.13.2): for example, snwt.f jt (Siut III, 20) “his second office” (literally, “his second one, the office”), 5nw n ḥb (Urk. IV, 741, 4) “the 5th festival” (literally, “the 5th one of festival”).

When cardinal numbers are used to modify a noun (or noun phrase), Egyptian writing normally uses what is called the “list form,” with the noun first and the numeral second: for example, rnpt 20 (Merikare 6, 1) “20 years” (literally, “year, 20”). In measurements, the thing being measured is written first, followed by the unit of measurement and then the numeral: ḥ(n)qt ds 100 (Westc. 4, 13) “100 jugs of beer” (literally, “beer, jug, 100”). In measurements, both nouns are normally singular, as in this example. In other cases, however, the noun can also be plural (with numbers higher than two): e.g., zpw 4 (Hearst med. 11, 14) “4 times.”

The writing conventions for cardinal numbers seem to have come from accounts; English normally writes $50 rather than 50 dollars for similar reasons. As with $50 in English, however, phrases like rnpt 20 “20 years” and zpw 4 “4 times” were probably pronounced with the number first: i.e., mdwtt rnpt (“twenty of year”) and jfdw zpw (“four of times”). For this reason, demonstratives that modify such phrases are always singular, since they agree with the numeral (which is singular) rather than the noun: for instance, p t 1000 (Rhind Problem 76) “those 1000 loaves of bread” (i.e., p ḫ t); t t 100 (Rhind Problem 65) “those 100 loaves of bread” (i.e., t št t).

Egyptian can use the words w and wt “one,” and the numerals (ḫ) “1000” and (ḥḥ) “million” before a noun, noun phrase, or pronoun. In that case, the number is connected to the following noun by the preposition m or the indirect genitive: for example, 1000 m t (CG 20003, 4) “1000 loaves of bread” (literally, “1000 in bread”), ḥḥ n zp (BD 72) “a million times” (literally, “a million of time”). With the words for “one,” these two constructions have different meanings. The preposition m is used when w or wt mean “one of many”: w m n n (Peas. B1, 40) “one of those donkeys,” w jm.tn (Siut I, 288) “one of you,” w jm nb (Hamm. 114, 13) “each one of them” (§ 8.15). The indirect genitive with w or wt has the same sense as the normal construction in which the number modifies the noun directly: dmj w (Urk. IV, 1069, 5) “one harbor,” w n mjtn (Urk. IV, 650, 9) “one path.”

In the spoken language this last construction was also used to express the singular indefinite article (“a, an”: see § 4.9); a few examples with this sense are found in the written language as well: w n qqw (Westc. 8, 3) “a boat” (literally, “one of boat”). This is a development common to many languages: the indefinite articles in English, German, and French, for example, all come from the words for “one” in those languages.

9.5 zp 2 “twice”

The phrase zp 2 “two times, twice” is used in writing as a kind of “ditto” sign: for example, š zp 2 (Ebers 4, 18) “very often” (literally, “twice often”). In spoken Egyptian, was apparently replaced by the repeated word or phrase: i.e., š š “often, often.” The signs can also be used in the spelling of single words as a kind of abbreviation, indicating that the preceding signs are to be repeated: for example, (for ) sksk (Urk. IV, 729, 16) “destroy.”

9.6Fractions

The ancient Egyptians expressed fractions in writing by the word r above a numeral: for example, ¹/₇ (r-7), ¹/₃₆₀ (r-360; Siut I, 285). There were special signs for a few fractions: ½ (gs), ¼ (r-4, also , ²/₃ (rwj), and ³/₄ (ḫmt-rw). Except for ²/₃ and ³/₄, all fractions had 1 as the numerator (the top part of the fraction). In order to express fractions with larger numerators, Egyptian combined several fractions: for example, (Rhind Problem 34) 5 ¹/₂ ¹/₇ ¹/₁₄ = 5⁵/₇ (i.e., 5 + ⁷/₁₄ + ²/₁₄ + ¹/₁₄ = 5¹⁰/₁₄ = 5⁵/₇). Except for ½, such fractions are relatively uncommon, and are mostly found in papyri of mathematics or accounts.

9.7Weights and measures

Ancient Egypt used a number of different systems for measuring length, area, weight, and volume, much as we still do in English today. Measures of length, area, and weight (§§ 9.7.1–3) are fairly straightforward; those of length are the most common in Middle Egyptian texts. Measures of volume (§ 9.7.4) are more complicated, and are presented here only for reference.

1)Length

The standard Egyptian measurement of length was the mḥ “cubit,” equal to about 20²/₃ inches (52.5 centimeters). This is the length from an elbow to the tip of the third finger, reflected in the arm sign used as a determinative. Its usual fractions and multiples were the following:

[picture] | db “finger” | = | ¹/₂₈ cubit, ¼ palm (0.74 in, 1.88 cm)
[picture] | šzp “palm” | = | fingers, ¹/₇ cubit (2.95 in, 7.5 cm)
[picture] | mḥ “cubit” | = | 7 palms, 28 fingers
[picture] | ḫt “stick, rod” | = | 100 cubits (57.41 yards, 52.5 meters)
[picture] | jtrw “river”³ | = | 20,000 cubits (6.52 miles, 10.5 kilometers).

2)Area

The standard measurement of area was the stt “aroura” , also , equal to 100 square cubits (0.68 acre, 0.28 hectare).⁴ Its most common fraction and multiple were the following:

[picture] | mḥ-t “centaroura” | = | ¹/₁₀₀ aroura (1×100 cubits)
[picture] | stt “aroura” | = | 100 centarouras
[picture] | ḫ-t “decaroura” | = | 10 arouras (6.81 acres, 2.76 ha).

3)Weight

Weights were measured in terms of the deben dbn), equal to approximately 3.21 ounces (91 grams). In the New Kingdom it had two fractions and no multiples:

[picture] | šntj “ring” | = | ¹/₁₂ deben (0.27 oz, 7.58 gm)
[picture] | qdt “qite” (“KEY-teh”) | = | ¹/₁₀ deben (0.32 oz, 9.1 gm)
[picture] | dbn “deben” | = | 12 rings, 10 qite.

The “ring” is apparently earlier of the two, and is generally replaced by the qite after Dynasty 18. In the Middle Kingdom the deben had a lower value of only 0.48 oz (13.6 gm), and had no fractions. The change to the higher value seems to have occurred toward the end of Dynasty 12.

4)Volume

The Egyptians had different systems for liquid and dry measures of volume, as we do today. Liquids were measured in various kinds of jars, such as the ds for beer (see the example in § 9.4, above). The capacity of most of these is unknown, except for the hnw “hin,” equal to about half a quart (0.48 l).

The most common dry measure of volume was for grain. The standard unit of measurement was the ḥq()t “heqat” (also written , equal to 10 hin (4.36 dry quarts, 4.8 liters). It had several different multiples:

[picture] | ḥqtj “double heqat” | = | 2 heqat (8.72 dqt, 9.6 l)
[picture] | jpt “oipe” | = | 4 heqat (17.44 dqt, 19.2 l)
[picture] | hr “sack” | = | 10 heqat (43.59 dqt, 48 l).

In the Second Intermediate Period, the capacity of the “sack” was changed from 10 heqat to 4 oipe (= 16 heqat: 69.74 dqt, 76.8 l).

Egyptian employed several numerical systems in conjunction with these grain measures. The simplest, found mostly in hieroglyphic texts, was based on the heqat, and used regular numerals and fractions: for example, ḥqt 88½ (Urk. IV, 429, 12) “88½ heqat.” Early Middle Kingdom hieratic texts (written from right to left) used mostly the sack and the heqat. Sacks were numbered with regular numerals, and heqats were counted with one to nine dots (10 heqat = 1 sack): for example, jtj-mḥ hr 12.5 (Heqanakht V, 35) “full barley, sack(s), 12.5” (i.e., 12 sacks, 5 heqat). Later hieratic texts (also written right to left) used mostly the heqat, double heqat, and oipe, and a special numbering system. Numerals placed before the measurement stood for multiples of 100: i.e., 3 ḥqt “300 heqat,” 20 ḥqtj “2,000 double heqat” (4,000 heqat), 12 jpt “1,200 oipe” (4,800 heqat). Numerals from 1 to 9 placed after the measurement stood for multiples of ten, while single heqats were indicated by dots: for example, 1 ḥqt 64 “164 heqat.” The fractions ½ and ¼ after the measurement stood for 50 and 25 heqats, respectively (i.e., ½ and ¼ of 100): for instance, ḥqt ½ 1¼ 8“93 heqat” (i.e., 50 + 10 + 25 + 8).

Both hieratic systems also employed a special set of signs to indicate fractions. These were based on the wdt) “Sound Eye” of Horus (sometimes called the “Udjat Eye”). According to mythology, Horus’s eye had been torn out by Seth, but was put back together by Thoth. The pieces of this Eye are used for the following fractions of grain measures:

[picture] | = | ¹/₂
[picture] | = | ¹/₄
[picture] | = | ¹/₈
[picture] | = | ¹/₁₆
[picture] | = | ¹/₃₂
[picture] | = | ¹/₆₄.

For example, 1 ḥqt ¹/₂ 1 6 ¹/₂ ¹/₈ ¹/₃₂ (Rhind Problem 82) “166²¹/₃₂ heqat” (i.e., 100 + 50 + 10 + 6 + ¹⁶/₃₂ + ⁴/₃₂ + ¹/₃₂).

9.8Dates: days and months

The Egyptian day was divided into twenty-four hours wnwt), twelve for the day hrw) and twelve for the night grḥ); the word r “day” refers to a full twenty-four hour period. The Egyptian day began at sunrise. Until the New Kingdom, the hours were not fixed in length but varied with the seasons: thus, in winter an “hour” of the day would be shorter than an “hour” of night, and vice versa in summer. The hours had names, but these are used mostly in astronomical texts. In normal texts the hours were counted with the ordinal numbers: for example, wnwt mḥt-10 nt hrw (Naville, DB, pl. 116) “10th hour of the day” (about 4 PM); wnwt 4nwt nt grḥ (Naville, DB, pl. 116) “4th hour of the night” (about 10 PM).

The ancient Egyptians divided their year rnpt) into three seasons tr). The year began traditionally around mid-July, when the annual four-month inundation of the Nile started, and the names of the seasons reflect the Egyptian agricultural year: ḫt “Inundation” (mid-July to mid-November), prt “Growing” (literally, “Emergence,” mid-November to mid-March), and šmw “Harvest” (mid-March to mid-July). Each season was divided into four months jbd) of thirty days each sw, referring only to a day of the month). Each month had three weeks of ten days each; the word for “week” was sw-10 “10 days.”

Months also had names, but these are rarely used in hieroglyphic texts (see § 9.10). Instead, the Egyptians regularly employed a three-part numerical system for indicating months and days:

1)the sign (for jbd “month”) followed by a number from 1 to 4;

2)the name of the season; and

3)the sign (for sw “day”) followed by a number from 1 to 30.

For example, 3 ḫt 7 (Sin. R 5) “3 Inundation 7.” The word dpj “first” could be used instead of for “month 1,” and the word rqy “last” was normally used instead of the numeral for the thirtieth day of the month: for instance, dpj šmw 16 (Urk. IV, 649, 3) “first of Harvest 16,” 2 prt rqy (Urk. IV, 836, 2) “2 Growing last.” The use of dpj “first (month)” and rqy “last (day)” indicates that the numbers in dates were probably pronounced as ordinals rather than cardinals: i.e., ḫmtnw ḫt sfḫnw “third of Inundation seventh.”

The combination of Egyptian seasons, months, and days produced a year of 12 months (3×4) and 360 days (12×30). The ancient Egyptians recognized, however, that the year had 365 full days rather than 360. In order to accommodate this discrepancy, they added five extra days at the end of the year, after 4 šmw 30 and before 1 ḫt 1. These were known as ḥr(j)w-rnpt “those over the year” (the number is a determinative; ḥrjw is a plural nisbe from the preposition ḥr); Egyptologists call them the “epagomenal” (“eppa-GOM-men-nal”) days, meaning “added.” Each of these days was celebrated as the birthday of a particular god: (1) mswt jsjr “birth of Osiris,” (2) mswt ḥrw “birth of Horus,” (3) mswt sth “birth of Seth,” (4) mswt jst “birth of Isis,” and (5) mswt nbt-ḥwt “birth of Nephthys.” In dates, they could be recorded by their names, or by numbers: for example, ḥr(j)w-rnpt 5 (Siut I, 305) “epagomenal day 5.” The first day of the year (known as wpt-rnpt “opening of the year” = 1 ḫt 1) was celebrated as mswt r “the birth of Re.”

9.9Dates: years

The Egyptians numbered their years not from a single fixed point but by the reign of the current king. (If the British employed this system, they would refer to the year AD 2013 as “Year 60 of Queen Elizabeth II” rather than as 2013.) The system used in Middle Egyptian texts dates back to the end of the Old Kingdom. Before that time, years were numbered according to a census that was carried out approximately every two years during a king’s reign. This practice gave rise to the word for “year” that is used in dates: rnpt-ḥsb “Regnal Year,” literally, “year of counting.” Full Middle Egyptian dates have the following form:

1) followed by the number of the king’s regnal year;

2)the month, season, and day, as in § 9.8, above;

3)the phrase ḫr ḥm n nswt-bjt “during the incarnation of the Dual King” (see § 8.2.13), followed by the king’s throne name.

For instance,

rnpt-ḥsb 2 3 ḫt 1 ḫr ḥm n nswt-bjt N(J)-MT-R (Hamm. 43, 1)
Regnal Year 2, 3 Inundation 1, during the incarnation of the Dual King

NIMAATRE (Amenemhat III).

More abbreviated dates leave out the reference to the king: rnpt-ḥsb 24 2 prt rqy (Urk. IV, 836, 2) “Year 24, 2 Growing last.”

9.10Calendars

The dating system described in §§ 9.8–9 is part of what Egyptologists call the civil calendar. It was used primarily in official texts. The ancient Egyptians did not have calendars to hang on their walls, so usually only scribes in charge of record-keeping knew what season and day it was in the civil calendar (see the Essay for more on this). Most people kept track of time in the year by another system, the lunar calendar. This also has twelve months a year (rarely, thirteen), of 29 or 30 days. The months were determined by the phases of the moon and readily visible without an artificial calendar.

The Egyptians marked the beginning of a lunar month at the new moon— specifically, the day when the moon’s crescent can no longer be observed before sunrise. This day was called psdntjw “new-moon festival”; other days of the lunar month were named by ordinal numbers, such as sjsnt “sixth-day festival” and mddjnt “half-month festival” (“fifteenth”). The lunar calendar was not only the one ordinary Egyptians were aware of, it was also the system by which religious festivals were organized.

The lunar months were designated by names rather than numbers. These are first attested in the Middle Kingdom, and seem to be the designations that were used in the Memphite region. Each month is named after a festival that occurred in the following month:

1 | [picture] | tḫj “He of the Plumb-bob” (an epithet of Thoth)
2 | [picture] | mnḫt “Clothing”
3 | [picture] | hnt ḥwt-ḥr(w) “Voyage of Hathor”
4 | [picture] | nḥb-kw “Apportioner of Kas” (a god)
5 | [picture] | šf-bdt “Swelling of Emmer-Wheat”
6 | [picture] | rkḥ- “Big Burning”
7 | [picture] | rkḥ-nds “Little Burning”
8 | [picture] | rnn-wtt “Rennutet” (goddess of the harvest)
9 | [picture] | ḫnsw “Khonsu” (moon god)
10 | [picture] | ḫnt-hty-prtj “Khentekhtai-perti” (a god)
11 | [picture] | jpt ḥmt “She Whose Incarnation Is Select”
12 | [picture] | wpt-rnpt “Opening of the Year.”

In the New Kingdom most of these month-names were changed, in many cases to reflect festivals celebrated in Thebes. The new names survived into Coptic and are still used in the religious calendar of the Coptic church:

1 | [picture] | dḥwtj “Thoth” | uooyt
2 | [picture] | p()-n-jpt “The one of Karnak” | paope
3 | [picture] | ḥwt-ḥr(w) “Hathor” | xauvr
4 | [picture] | kḥr-k “Ka Upon Ka” | koiaxk
5 | [picture] | t()bt “The Offering” | tvbe
6 | [picture] | p()-n-pmḫrw “The one of the censer” | mšir
7 | [picture] | p()-n-JMN-ḤTP “The one of AMENHOTEP” | parmxotp
8 | [picture] | p()-n-rn(n)-wt(t) “The one of Rennutet” | parmoyte
9 | [picture] | p()-n-ḫnsw “The one of Khonsu” | pašons
10 | [picture] | p()-n-jnt “The one of the wadi” | pavne
11 | [picture] | jp(j)-jp(j) (apparently from jpt-ḥmt) | ephp
12 | [picture] | mswt-r “Birth of Re” | mesorh.

These names were sometimes applied to the months of the civil calendar as well (it is not known what the occasional thirteenth lunar month was called). The names occur mostly in lists of festivals and in private letters. Although they are rare in normal texts, however, they were undoubtedly common in spoken Egyptian, just as we use names such as “April” instead of “Month 4.”

ESSAY 9. EGYPTIAN CHRONOLOGY

The modern view of time is linear, with the past at one end, the future at the other, and the present somewhere between. The ancient Egyptians viewed time as both linear and cyclical. Their linear view of time is expressed in the word dt, usually translated as “eternity.” The concept underlying this term is one of eternal sameness. It refers to the pattern of existence that was established at the creation and will continue until the end of the world: the sky in place above the earth; the Nile flowing from south to north; the sun rising in the east and setting in the west; living things being born, growing, and dying. The Egyptian concept of cyclical time is embodied in the word nḥḥ (usually abbreviated , also translated as “eternity.” In this view, time is eternally repeated and renewed: in the daily cycle of the sun, the yearly cycle of the seasons, and the cycle of birth and death among living things. In a sense, the Egyptian concept of time can be compared to a play: its script (dt) is fixed and unchanging, but each performance of the play (nḥḥ) is different, with new settings and new actors.

In their understanding of time, the Egyptians thought of each day, each year, and each accession of a new king as a new creation, a new beginning. This view underlies the Egyptian practice of dating years by the reign of the current pharaoh (§ 9.9). Each time a new pharaoh came to the throne, a new cycle of year dates was begun: the start of each king’s reign was the first year of a new creation and a new cycle of time.

While this method of counting years was satisfactory for the Egyptians, it is of limited use to modern historians. We fix historical events in relation to an absolute starting date of AD 1; this was calculated by Christians in late antiquity as the first year in the life of Jesus (AD stands for the Latin phrase anno Domini “in the year of the Lord”). Years after this date are numbered consecutively forward, so that AD 1945, for example, indicates the 1,944th year after AD 1. Years before AD 1 are numbered consecutively backward, beginning with 1 BC (“before Christ”; there is no Year 0).

From ancient historical sources we know that the last Egyptian pharaoh, Cleopatra VII, died in 30 BC. From this point it might seem a simple matter to calculate when each preceding pharaoh ruled by adding the years of their reigns. Unfortunately, Egyptian sources do not always tell us how long each pharaoh ruled. Moreover, there were times in Egyptian history when more than one pharaoh ruled at a time, either as coregents or as rivals: in such cases, the ancient texts usually number each pharaoh’s years independently, and we do not always know how many of these competing year dates overlapped. For these reasons, we cannot fix an Egyptian date such as Year 12 of Ramesses II in terms of years BC just by counting backwards from 30 BC.

Fortunately, Egyptian dating systems provide another clue to absolute dates. The Egyptian civil calendar consisted of 365 days (§ 9.8), but a true year (called a “solar year”) is actually about 365¼ days long. We account for this difference by adding an extra day to our calendar every fourth year (“leap year”). Since the Egyptians had no leap years, their calendar moved backward in relation to the actual year by losing one day every four years: for example, if the Egyptian calendar day 1 Inundation 1 (1 ḫt 1) corresponded to July 17 in a particular year, four years later the same calendar day would have fallen on July 16; eight years later, on July 15, and so forth.

No matter which calendar we use to record them, astronomical events always recur exactly one real (solar) year apart. The Egyptians were avid astronomers, and they kept careful records of their observations of the sun and the stars. One of the more important annual events they noted is prt spdt “the emergence of Sothis” (spdt is the Egyptian name for the star we call Sirius). Sirius is visible in the Egyptian night sky for most of the year, but during a period of about seventy days in late spring it does not rise above the horizon; then, in mid-July, it reappears above the horizon just before sunrise. This reappearance of Sirius corresponded to the start of the annual inundation of the Nile, and marked the beginning of the year in ancient Egypt.

Ideally, the emergence of Sothis should have occurred on 1 Inundation 1, the first day of the Egyptian civil calendar. Because that calendar lost a day every four years, however, the rising of Sothis also fell a calendar day earlier every four years. For four years the rising of Sothis might be observed on 1 Inundation 1, but during the next four years it would fall on Epagmonal Day 5 (the last day of the Egyptian calendar), then on Epagomenal Day 4 for four years, and so forth. It took about 1,461 years (365.25 days × 4) for the cycle to come full circle; Egyptologists call this span of time the “Sothic Cycle.” From an observation made in late antiquity, we know that the rising of Sothis actually did occur on 1 Inundation 1 during the four-year period AD 136–139. Calculating backward by the Sothic Cycle, we can determine that it also fell on 1 Inundation 1 during the four-year period from 1325–1322 BC and again in 2786–2783 BC.

If a text records the rising of Sothis on a particular date of the Egyptian calendar in a king’s regnal year, it is then a simple matter to calculate the actual date BC of this event (within four years) against these three fixed four-year periods. For pharaonic history there are only three such historical records. Two of these include the regnal year of a king as well as the month and day: on 2 Harvest 1 in Year 9 of Ptolemy III, and on 4 Growing 16 in Year 7 of Senwosret III. The first of these is 94 days before 1 Inundation 1: this dates Year 9 of Ptolemy III to the period between 240 and 237 BC (4×94 = 376 years earlier than AD 136–139; the actual date, which can be calculated from other sources, is 238 BC). The second is 140 days before 1 Inundation 1, and places Year 7 of Senwosret III about 1876–1873 BC (139×4 = 556 years earlier than 1320–1317).

Using these dates and other sources, Egyptologists are able to calculate the regnal years of most other ancient Egyptian kings in terms of actual years BC. The process is a complicated one, involving astronomy, king-lists, historical texts, biographical inscriptions, lunar dates of Egyptian festivals, and correspondences with Mesopotamian kinglists and the Hebrew Bible. Although Egyptian chronology is still the subject of much debate, most Egyptologists now agree that the dates of Egyptian pharaohs and dynasties from the Middle Kingdom onward are fairly certain, with a margin of error ranging from about 29 years in Dynasty 12 to near zero after 525 BC.

EXERCISE 9

1.Transcribe and translate the following list of booty from a military campaign of the 18th-Dynasty pharaoh Thutmose III (Urk. IV, 702, 9–14):

[picture] | VOCABULARY:
[picture] | bkw “tribute,” kš “Kush” (northern Sudan), hzj “wretched”
[picture] | nbw “gold”
[picture] | ḥm/ḥmt “servant”
[picture] | jw “ox,” wndw “short-horn cattle” k jdr “herd bull”
[picture] | dmd “total,” jḥ “cattle”

2.Transcribe and translate:

a) (Kahun, pl. 9, 1) — SḪM-K-R: a 13th-Dynasty king

b) (Peas. B2, 91) — zp “time” (read right to left)

c) (Peas. R 7, 5–6) — wt “path,” mw “water,” jtj “grain”

d) (Peas. B1, 112–13) — sḫtj “farmer”

e) (JEA 31, pl. 2A, 12) — nḥsj “Nubian”

f) (ZÄS 59, 47*)

g) (Urk. IV, 836, 2–3) — hrw-ḥb “feast day, festival day,” jmn “Amun,” jpt-jswt “Karnak temple”

h) (Sin. B 298)

i) (Hamm. 114, 12) — mš “expeditionary force,” zj “man”

j) (Siut I, 300) — jr see § 8.2.7; hrw “day”

k) (Urk. IV, 716, 13) — wdyt “campaign,” nḫt “force”

l) (Westc. 7, 23) — ḥtp “peace”

m) (Urk. IV, 483, 6)

n) (ShS. 42) — jb “heart”

3.Write in hieroglyphs the ordinal counterparts of the following cardinal numbers:

a)

b)

c)

d)

e)

f)

g)

h)

4.The text below is an excerpt transcribed from a hieratic account in which amounts of something are tallied under the headings of certain kinds of cattle (Kahun, pl. 16, 13–20). Transcribe and translate it; in the translation, combine Egyptian fractions where necessary into a single fraction (i.e., ¹/₃ ¹/₄ = ⁴/₁₂ + ³/₁₂ = ⁷/₁₂). See if you can figure out mathematically how the rows and columns are related.

VOCABULARY:

jdr-mnjw “tended herd” (literally, “herder’s herd”)

wpt “splitting”

〈n〉g()w “steer”

ḥrj-db “hornless cattle”

drt “calf ”

dmd “total”

ḥtr “team ox”

1 Hieratic developed separate signs for some of the multiples: i.e., one sign for 20 and another for 30. These are transcribed into hieroglyphic using the repetitional notation.

2 When the same two consonants came together in an Egyptian word without a vowel between them, they were written only once in hieroglyphs (§ 2.8.2). Since snnw “second” is written snw, it was apparently pronounced ∗sVnnVw (where V stands for a vowel). The same thing is true for ḫmnnw/ḫmnnwt “eighth,” written ḫmnw/ḫmnwt.

3 Also translated “schoenus” (pronounced “SKEE-nus”), from the Greek term for this measurement.

4 In Egyptian, however, the aroura was thought of as 100 strips of land each measuring 1×100 cubits, rather than as 100 squares of 1×1 cubit. This is the reason why the multiple of 10 arouras was known as the ḫ-t (literally, “thousand-land”): i.e., 1,000 strips of 1×100 cubits.

10.ADVERBIAL SENTENCES

10.1Definitions

In §§ 7.2 and 7.6 we saw that the true predicate in English sentences such as This plan is excellent and This plan is a disaster is the adjective (excellent) or the noun or noun phrase (a disaster) that follows the verb is. English also has sentences in which the predicate is a prepositional phrase or an adverb: for example, Jack is in the barn and Jill is here. As in adjectival and nominal sentences, English requires the verb is, but the verb doesn’t really add much information to the sentence: what is important is the part of the predicate after is. The word here is an adverb, and prepositional phrases such as in the barn can also function as adverbs (§ 8.11). Grammarians call a predicate such as is in the barn or is here an adverbial predicate.

Egyptian also has sentences in which the predicate is an adverb or a prepositional phrase. As in sentences with nominal or adjectival predicates, these are non-verbal sentences in Egyptian, without a verb that corresponds to the English verb is. Egyptologists call them adverbial sentences, short for the more accurate term “sentences with adverbial or prepositional predicates.”

10.2Basic patterns

In the Egyptian adverbial sentence the subject normally comes first and the predicate is second: for example,

hrwt.k m pr.k (Peas. B1, 124)

Your possessions are in your house,

literally, “your possessions¹ in your house,” where hrwt.k is the subject and the prepositional phrase m pr.k is the predicate. Occasionally the order of subject and predicate is reversed, mostly when the predicate is a prepositional phrase with n “to, for”:

n k.k jnw n sḫt (Bersheh I, pl. 20)

For your ka is the produce of the field,

where jnw n sḫt is the subject and n k.k is the predicate.

Like nominal and adjectival sentences (§ 7.16), the adverbial sentence has no inherent tense. It can therefore refer to the past or future as well as to present situations: for example,

pt m jmw (Sin. R 10–11) “The elite were in mourning”

wrrt.j n.s (Urk. IV, 221, 13) “My crown shall be for her.”

Unlike sentences with nominal or adjectival predicate, those with an adverbial predicate can express wishes or commands as well as statements of fact:

bw.k r.f (pBerlin 9010, 5) “May your impressiveness be against him!”

ḥr.k m hrw (Ptahhotep 128 L2) “Let your face be down!”—

literally, “Your impressiveness against him!” and “Your face in down-ness!” (an abstract noun formed from the preposition hr “under”). Such adverbial sentences are actually closer to English usage than are those that state a fact, since English too can make wishes or commands without a verb: A curse on both your houses! (a wish), Hands up! (a command). As with nominal and adjectival sentences, there is nothing in the adverbial sentence itself to indicate whether it is a past, present, or future statement of fact or a wish or command. In most cases, however, the meaning is clear from the context in which the sentence is used.

10.3The particle jw

Adverbial sentences that consist of just a subject and an adverbial predicate, such as those cited in the preceding section, are not very common in Middle Egyptian. Normally Middle Egyptian prefers to introduce adverbial sentences with one of a group of small words known as particles (Lesson 15). Besides serving as an introductory word, each particle also adds a particular nuance to the sentence.

The most important Middle Egyptian particle is jw (spelled or . This word is used before a nominal subject or a demonstrative pronoun, or with the suffix form of a personal pronoun (§ 5.3): for example,

jw m(w)t m ḥr.j mjn (Leb. 132) “Death is in my sight now”

jw n m sb()yt (Urk. IV, 1090, 3) “This is as an instruction”

jw.f m t (Westc. 11, 24) “It is in a room.”

Although jw is very common in Middle Egyptian adverbial sentences, it usually cannot be translated into English. In fact, Egyptologists still debate about the exact meaning of jw, and no one has yet come up with a full explanation of why Egyptian uses it in some cases but not in others. One of the uses of jw that does seem clear, however, has to do with the difference between statements that are generally valid and those that are only temporarily true. English does not make this distinction: we use the same kind of sentence for both kinds of statements—for example, The Eiffel Tower is in Paris (always true) and The President is in Paris (temporarily true). Middle Egyptian, however, often does show the difference: in sentences with an adverbial predicate, jw generally marks a statement that is only temporarily true or one that is true in specific circumstances. The sentence jw mwt m ḥr.j mjn “Death is in my sight now,” for example, is true when it is spoken (“now”) but is not always true. Similarly, jw.f m t “It is in a room” refers to the present location of something, not to its permanent location.

Besides adverbial sentences, jw occasionally appears in sentences with an adjectival predicate. In such cases jw seems to have the same kind of meaning that it does in adverbial sentences: that is, to indicate that the adjectival statement is true only temporarily or in a specific circumstance; for example,

jw nfr sw m p hrw r sf (TTS III, pl. 26, 15)

He is better today than yesterday,

literally, “He is good in this day with respect to yesterday.” In Middle Egyptian, jw is almost never used with nominal sentences. This is evidently because such sentences describe identifications that are not restricted to a particular time: z.j pw “He is my son” (see § 7.16).

Since English does not make a distinction between statements that are generally or temporarily valid, the presence or absence of jw usually makes no difference to the translation. It was important to the Egyptians, however, and you should be aware of the difference.

10.4Other particles

Besides jw, Middle Egyptian also uses a number of other particles to introduce adverbial sentences. As with jw, these particles also carry a nuance that the sentence does not have without them. They are used with the same kinds of subjects as jw, but when the subject is a personal pronoun, they use the dependent form of the pronoun (§ 5.4) instead of the suffix form. The following are four of the most frequent particles.

1) m.k (more properly, mj.k) “behold”

This particle, which always stands first, presumes that the sentence is being spoken to somebody. It has three forms, with a suffix pronoun indicating the gender and number of the person to whom the sentence is spoken:

2ms | m.k | [picture]
2fs | m.t or m.t | etc.
2pl | m.tn or m.tn | etc.

The particle m.k is essentially used to present a statement, or to call it to the attention of the listener. Although it literally means “behold,” this translation usually makes the statement sound too archaic or “biblical” to English ears. As a result, m.k is often best paraphrased in English, or left untranslated: for example,

m.k wj r gs.k (ShS. 108)

Here I am at your side (literally, “Behold, I am at your side”)

m.k sw m .j (Helck, HBT, 94)

Look, he is here in my hand

m.tn špswt ḥr šdw (Adm. 7, 10)

The noblewomen are on rafts.

2) nn “not”

The particle nn is used to negate the adverbial sentence. It always stands before the subject, but it can be preceded by other particles, such as m.k, itself: for example,

nn mjwt.k ḥn.k (MuK. vo. 2, 3)

Your mother is not with you.

3) nḥmn “surely, really”

The particle nḥmn is a stronger version of m.k, used to emphasize the truth of the adverbial sentence. It is always first in the sentence:

nḥmn wj mj k (Sin. B 117–18)

I am really like a bull.

4) ḥ (also ḥ and ḥwj ) “if only, I wish, would that”

The particles ḥ, ḥ , and ḥwj are used to indicate that the adverbial sentence is a wish. Although the plain adverbial sentence can also be used as a wish (§ 10.2), the presence of these particles seems to imply some uncertainty about whether the wish will come true. They always stand first in the sentence:

ḥw(j) wj jm (CT IV, 48d) “If only I was there.”

10.5Personal pronouns as subjects

With very few exceptions, only the dependent or suffix form of the personal pronouns is used as subject in an adverbial sentence. As a result, most Middle Egyptian adverbial sentences with a personal pronoun as subject are introduced by a particle of some sort: most often, by jw or m.k. The independent personal pronoun is used as the subject of an adverbial predicate only in a special kind of sentence, which we will meet toward the end of this book.

In Dynasty 17, written Egyptian began to use a new kind of independent personal pronoun as the subject of an adverbial sentence. This form seems to have come from the spoken language of Upper Egypt. Its paradigm consists of the element tw plus the suffix pronouns for the first and second person, and dependent pronouns for the third person:

1s | tw.j | (etc.) | “I”
2ms | tw.k | [picture] | “you”
2fs | tw.(t) | [picture] | “you”
3ms | sw | [picture] | “he, it”
3fs | sj | [picture] | “she, it”
1pl | tw.n | [picture] | “we”
2pl | tw.tn | [picture] | “you”
3n | st | [picture] | “it, they”

The tw forms are used only as subject and only in particular kinds of sentences, including those with adverbial predicate. The pronoun always stands first in the sentence, and is not used after particles:

sw hr t n mw tw.n hr kmt (Helck, HBT, 86)

He has the land of the Asiatics; we have Egypt—

literally, “He is under the land of the Asiatics” and “we are under Egypt” (see § 10.7, below). Since this pronoun is always used as the subject of a sentence, we can call it the subject form of the personal pronoun. You should note that it is not used before Dynasty 17 and does not appear in standard Middle Egyptian texts of the Middle Kingdom.

10.6Adverbial sentences of identity

One of the most common kinds of adverbial sentence is used to identify the subject with something by means of the preposition m: for example,

m.k tw m mnjw (Peas. B1, 208) “You are a herdsman,”

literally, “behold, you (are) in a herdsman.” For this kind of sentence we do not normally translate the preposition m. In Egyptian, however, it indicated that the subject was “in” the capacity or identity of something (see § 8.2.3): in this example, the subject tw “you” is “in” the function of “a herdsman.”² Egyptologists sometimes call the preposition in this usage the “m of predication,” meaning that the preposition makes it possible for the following noun to function as an adverbial predicate. In Egyptian, however, there was no difference between this meaning of m and the more understandable instances in which m means “in” a place or a state (see the examples in §§ 10.2, 10.3, and 10.4.2, above).

The existence of this kind of sentence means that Egyptian had two ways of expressing identity: with a nominal sentence (Lesson 7) or with an adverbial sentence using the preposition m. English forces us to translate both kinds of sentence in the same way: for example, ntk r “You are the Sun” (Exercise 7, no. 34) and m.k tw m mnjw “You are a herdsman.” In Egyptian, however, the two constructions mean two different things. The nominal sentence is used when the identity is thought of as natural or unchangeable, and the adverbial sentence with m is used when the identification is seen as acquired or temporary. Thus, ntk r identifies who the subject is (“the Sun”), while m.k tw m mnjw identifies the subject’s occupation (which is not necessarily permanent). In the same way, the sentence ntk z.j “You are my son” implies that the speaker is talking to his real son, while jw.k m z.j “You are my son” indicates that the person being addressed is acting as a son (whether he is the speaker’s real son or not).

In § 10.3 we saw that Egyptian uses jw to distinguish statements that are only temporarily true from those that are always valid. The same kind of distinction underlies the contrast between adverbial sentences with the preposition m and nominal sentences of identity. In both cases, Egyptian makes a distinction that does not exist in English sentences, and which therefore cannot be translated directly into English. This is an instance in which the Egyptian language is richer—or at least, more precise—than English, and it is a good example of how the subtleties of a language can be lost in translation.

10.7Adverbial sentences of possession

As we learned in § 6.9, the Egyptian language has no verb corresponding to the English verb of possession have. To say “I have cattle,” Egyptian can use a nominal sentence with the noun nb “lord, master, owner”: jnk nb kw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 20–21)—literally, “I am an owner of cattle.” More often, however, Egyptian prefers an adverbial sentence. The sentence quoted in § 10.5 is one example of how the language expresses possession by means of an adverbial predicate, with the preposition hr: to be “under” something is to possess it (see § 8.2.15). Alternatively, a predicate with the compound preposition “in the hand” can be used:

hrwt.j m .j (Urk. IV, 123, 10) “I have my possessions,”

literally, “My possessions are in my hand” (for hrwt “possessions,” see n. 1 in this lesson).

The most common kind of adverbial predicate of possession involves the preposition n “to, for”: for example,

nn jz n sbj (CG 20538 IIc, 19) “The rebel has no tomb,”

literally, “A tomb is not for the rebel.” In many instances this kind of sentence has a close parallel in English: thus, for the sentence just cited, we can also translate “There is no tomb for the rebel.” Similarly,

ḫt.j nbt m š m njwt n sn.j (Kahun, pl. 12, 4)

My brother shall have all my things in the country and in the village,

literally, “All my things in the country and in the village are for my brother” (a sentence taken from a man’s will). Egyptologists often use the term dative (borrowed from Greek and Latin grammar) to refer to prepositional phrases such as n sbj and n sn.j in these examples.

These last two sentences are examples in which the preposition n governs a nominal object (n sbj “for the rebel,” n sn.j “for my brother”). They show the normal word-order of adverbial sentences, with the subject (jz, ḫt.j nbt m š m njwt) first and the adverbial predicate second. When the object of n is a suffix pronoun, however, the order is usually reversed: for example,

jw n.k nḫ ws (Urk. IV, 561, 2) “Life and dominion are for you”

ḥ n.j šzp nb mnḫ (Peas. Bt 25)

I wish I had any potent image of a god,

literally, “For you are life and dominion” and “Would that there were for me any potent image of a god.” The normal word order is reversed because of a rule of Egyptian grammar: a dative with a suffix pronoun tends to stand as close to the front of the sentence as possible. In these examples, the datives n.k and n.j are second because the two particles, jw and ḥ, must be first.

10.8Adverbial sentences with the preposition r

Like other prepositions, the preposition r can be used in an adverbial predicate with the meanings it has in other uses (§ 8.2.7): for example,

jw.f r.j jw.j r.f (Heqanakht II, 41)

He is against me and I am against him.

When the adverbial predicate consists of r and a noun (or noun phrase) of place, the sentence often indicates the subject’s destination:

jw.j r pt mḥtt (CT VI, 196t) “I am bound for the northern sky”

m.k tw r dmj n nb-sgr (Peas. B1, 58)

Look, you are headed for the harbor of the Lord of Silence—

literally, “I am toward the northern sky” and “Behold, you are toward the harbor of the Lord of Silence” (i.e., you are courting death).

In the same way, when the object of r is a noun (or noun phrase) that denotes the occupation or function of a person, the sentence usually indicates a status “toward” which the subject is destined: for example,

jw.f r wb ntr pn (Helck, HBT, 28)

He is to be a priest of this god—

literally, “He is toward a priest of this god.” This last kind of sentence is exactly analogous to the sentence of identity with the preposition m, which we considered in § 10.6. With m, the sentence indicates that the subject is “in” a particular role or function; with r, it indicates that the subject is “toward” (headed or destined for) the role or function.

10.9Adverbial sentences without a subject

As in adjectival sentences (§ 8.5), Egyptian can omit the subject in an adverbial sentence when it is clear from the context or doesn’t refer to anything in particular:

jw mj sḫr ntr (Sin. B 43) “It is like the plan of a god”

nn m jwms (Urk. IV, 101, 12) “It is not an exaggeration.”

The translation of such sentences usually has a “dummy” subject, it, because English grammar requires a subject. In Egyptian, however, the subject can just be left out. As these examples show, such sentences are introduced by a particle of some sort.

10.10Interrogatives as adverbial predicates

We have already seen how the interrogative adjective and pronouns are used as predicate in adjectival and nominal sentences (§§ 7.5.4, 7.13). As you might suspect, the interrogative adverb tnj (§ 8.13) can be used as the predicate of an adverbial sentence:

jw jr.f tn(j) (Westc. 9, 4) “So, where is it?”³

In § 8.13 we also saw that the interrogative pronouns can be used as the object of a preposition. Such prepositional phrases can also serve as the predicate in an adverbial sentence:

sw mj jḫ (Urk. IV, 649, 15) “What is it like?”

literally, “It is like what?” (for the subject, see § 10.5).

ESSAY 10. MAAT

The concept of time that the ancient Egyptians called dt represented their view that the pattern of existence was fixed, unchanging, and eternal (see Essay 9). The pattern itself they called mt, an abstract noun derived from the verb m “direct” or “guide.” The concept of mt refers to the natural order of the universe, something like the notion of natural law in Western philosophy. It means essentially “the way things ought to be.” This is a concept that is nearly impossible to translate accurately by one English word, so Egyptologists normally use the transcription of the Egyptian word (“Maat”) rather than a translation.

The Egyptians saw Maat as a force of nature—in fact, the most fundamental of such forces. The hieroglyph used in writings of the word probably reflects this viewpoint. It seems to represent a socle or base on which an object such as a throne or a statue can stand, and perhaps for this reason it came to be used as an ideogram for something that is basic or fundamental. Like other natural forces, Maat was also divine (see Essay 4). As a goddess, Maat is normally represented in human form, identified (for unknown reasons) by the feather she always wears tucked into her headband (Fig. 9). From this association the feather also came to be used as an ideogram for mt. The Egyptians seem to have used the feather, or the hieroglyph of the goddess wearing it , in art and writing only when they were thinking of Maat as a goddess. The socle was used as an ideogram or triliteral sign in writing the word mt itself and related words, such as the verb m “direct” and the adjective m, which means “having the quality of Maat.”

Fig. 9. Maat in the tomb of Haremhab (author’s photo)

Like the other forces of nature, Maat was established at the creation, when the sun rose into the world for the first time; for this reason, the goddess is often called zt r “the Sun’s daughter.” To the Egyptians, the existence of Maat itself ensured that the world would continue to exist as it had from the beginning of time:

Maat is effective, lasting, and sharp;

it is undisturbed since the time of him who made it.

He who bypasses its customs is punished:

it is the path even in the face of the ignorant. …

In the end it is Maat that lasts:

a man says: ‘It is the legacy of my father’ (Ptahhotep 88–98 L2).

Maat operated both in the world at large and in the world of human affairs. On the cosmic level it governed the proper functioning of the universe. Maat was what kept the world’s elements fixed in their appropriate places, the seasons following in their natural order, night giving way to day, and each generation being succeeded by the next. In the Egyptian view this ideal order did not mean that the more desirable parts of nature should eliminate the less desirable; instead, the concept of Maat was one in which all parts of nature lived in balance and harmony. The desert surrounding Egypt, for example, was a wild and dangerous place, yet it also served a purpose in isolating the country from its enemies for most of ancient Egyptian history. In the same way, life is preferable to death, but death is also necessary if succeeding generations are to enjoy the same benefits and opportunities that their ancestors had.

Maat also governed the narrower world of human affairs. In that sphere, Maat served as the yardstick against which the Egyptians measured most of their important experiences: their society’s values, their relationships with one another, and even their own perception of reality. Depending on which of these areas of human activity it was used in, Maat corresponded to several different modern concepts, and can be translated by a number of English abstract nouns: “right”; “correct behavior,” “order,” “justice”; and “truth.”

The opposite of Maat in each of these areas was jzft: “wrong”; “incorrect or antisocial behavior,” “disorder,” “injustice”; and “falsehood.” In our society the distinction between these opposites is determined by codes of religious commandments and civil laws. Ancient Egypt had no such codes. For the Egyptians, the distinction was determined by practical experience: behavior that promoted balanced, harmonious relationships between people was m (“right, correct, orderly, just, true”); that which did not do so was a manifestation of jzft.

Although Maat was established by the creator, as part of the world’s natural order, its opposite came from human beings themselves. In one Middle Kingdom text, the creator says:

I made every man like his fellow (mj snnw.f: see §§ 9.3–9.4).

I did not command that they do jzft:

it is their minds that destroy what I have said (CT VII, 463f–464b).

In other words, the creator established a balanced universe (“I made every man like his fellow”); imbalance in the world comes about not through the existence of some evil force (“I did not command that they do jzft”), but through human behavior (“it is their minds that destroy what I have said”).

The sentence “I made every man like his fellow” has sometimes been taken as a sign that the Egyptians believed in a kind of natural equality, but this is not the case. The essence of Maat in the human sphere was not perfect social and economic equality but rather the harmonious coexistence of society’s different levels (see Essay 3). Maat did not mean that the rich and powerful should become equal to the poor and weak, or vice versa: in fact, texts that describe a society without Maat typically say things like “The beggars of the land have become rich men; the owners of things, those who have nothing” (Adm. 8, 2). Instead, Maat meant that the rich and powerful should use their advantages not to exploit those less fortunate but rather to help them. The biographical inscriptions of officials often echo this understanding in sentences such as “I have given bread to the hungry and clothing to the naked” and “I was a husband to the widow and a father to the orphan.”

It was the duty of all Egyptians to live in accordance with Maat. Only if they did so could they join the society of the dead when they died (see Essay 8). The final judgment that every Egyptian (even the king) had to pass through was not a religious trial but a social one: people who had been disruptive elements in the society of the living could hardly expect to be welcomed as members of the blessed society of the afterlife.

While normal Egyptians were responsible for conducting their lives in accordance with Maat, the king had a dual responsibility: not only to live his own life according to the same principle but also to maintain Maat in society as a whole. This larger responsibility had many different facets. It was the king’s duty to keep Egypt’s enemies at bay, so that the country could live in order and tranquility; to appoint just officials, who would keep society running smoothly and in harmony; to settle disputes between nomes, towns, and people; to manage the national grain supply, so that people would not go hungry between harvests; and to please the gods with temples and offerings, so that the forces of nature would continue to look kindly on the Egyptians. All of these actions, and others like them, were seen as part of the king’s duty to his subjects and the gods—a duty summarized in texts by the phrase “putting mt in place of jzft” and on temple walls by images of the king presenting the symbol of Maat to the gods.

EXERCISE 10

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (Sin. B 50) — jt(j) see Lesson 7 n. 1; hnw “interior,” ḥ “palace”

2. (Helck, HBT, 29) — future: rn “name,” nḫw “the living”

3. (Adm. 2, 10) — ms “indeed,” jtrw “river,” snf “blood”

4. (ShS. 131) — past; ḥr(j) jb “midst” (literally, “what is on the heart”)

5. (TTS II, pl. 11) — wn(m)w “food”

6. (Peas. B1, 102) — nhw “loss”

7. (Peet, Abydos II, 23) — tw “air,” ndm “sweet,” mḥyt “north wind”

8. (Urk. IV, 2, 10) — past: ww “soldier”

9. (Urk. IV, 59, 5) — ḥzwt “blessing”; ḥm.f see Essay 3

10. (Ebers 101, 15) — jst “place”

11. (Siut III, 69) — sḫ “memory,” dp(j) nisbe from dp “upon,” t “earth”

12. (Siut I, 227) — jw “old man”

13. (Sin. B 77)

14. (Sin. B 215) — ḫt see § 4.4

15. (Sin. B 217–18)

16. (Sin. B 239–40) — smsw “eldest,” s “charge” (“back”), wḥyt “tribe”

17. (Sin. B 240)

18. (Sin. B 263) — bḥ “presence”

19. (Westc. 6, 10-11) — past; jr “as for” (see § 8.2.7)

20. (Westc. 7, 1–2) — nds “gentleman,” rnpt “year”

21. (CT II, 292a)

22. (ShS. 52)

23. (ShS. 7–8) — nhw “loss,” mš “expeditionary force”

24. (Urk. IV, 561, 2) — nḫ “life”

25. (Peas. B1, 323)

26. (Kahun, pl. 11, 21–22) — ny.j § 5.11; hrdw “child”

1 hrwt is a feminine plural reverse nisbe: literally, “those which you are under” (see §§ 8.8–8.9).

2 This may seem an odd way to express identity, but it is not peculiar to Egyptian. Scottish Gaelic uses a similar construction: Tha thu nad bhuachaille “You are a herdsman”—literally, “Are you in-your herdsman.”

3 A subjectless sentence (see § 10.9). The prepositional phrase jr.f is used as a relational word, like English so (§ 15.7.2). The suffix pronoun f refers to what has been said previously: literally, “with respect to it.”

11.NON-VERBAL SENTENCES

11.1Definitions

Lessons 7 and 10 introduced us to three kinds of Egyptian sentence: those in which the predicate is adjectival, nominal, or adverbial. In each of these sentence-types the predicate is not a verb, although English forces us to translate them with one, usually a form of the verb be. Because of this common feature Egyptologists group the three kinds of sentence together under the heading of “non-verbal sentences,” which is short for the more accurate designation “sentences with a non-verbal predicate” (see § 7.1). In this lesson we will look at the three kinds of non-verbal sentences together, and at some further features of them.

11.2Basic patterns and meanings

As we have seen, each of the three kinds of non-verbal sentence can have many different forms, depending on what is used as the subject and predicate. In general, however, each type has a basic pattern and meaning.

Adjectival sentences have the pattern ADJECTIVE–SUBJECT, where the predicate is an adjective (masculine singular or masculine dual). They express a quality of their subject: for example, nfr sw “He is good,” where the predicate nfr describes a quality of the subject, sw “he”—namely, that he is “good.”

Nominal sentences have two basic patterns: A B and A pw B, where either A or B can be the subject or predicate. They express the identity of their subject: r pw “He is the Sun” (where the predicate r tells who the subject, pw “he,” is); pḫrt pw nḫ “Life is a cycle” (where the predicate pḫrt “a cycle” explains what the subject, nḫ “life,” is).

Adverbial sentences usually have the pattern SUBJECT–PREDICATE, where the predicate is an adverb or prepositional phrase; in some cases this pattern can be reversed, with the predicate preceding the subject. Despite their various forms, adverbial sentences all express essentially the location of their subject. This is self-evident in sentences such as m.k tw “You are here” (introduced by the particle m.k), but it is also true of a sentence such as jw jtj.j m ww “My father was a soldier” (literally, “My father was in a soldier,” introduced by the particle jw).

11.3Marked and unmarked sentences

Each kind of non-verbal sentence essentially expresses only a particular relationship— quality, identity, or location—between its subject and predicate. In their basic patterns, non-verbal sentences say nothing about when these relationships are supposed to be true, whether always or only at a particular time in the past, present, or future. Linguists call this kind of feature “unmarked.” The English noun pilot, for example, is unmarked for gender: it can be used of a male or female pilot, because it says nothing about the sex of the person it refers to; in contrast, the noun actress is marked for gender, because it can only refer to a woman. Egyptian non-verbal sentences are unmarked for tense.

When an element or construction of a language is unmarked for a particular feature, it can be used either without saying anything about that feature or with a more limited reference. In the English sentence The pilot landed the plane safely nothing is said about the pilot’s sex, whereas the sentence The pilot turned the controls over to her copilot is clearly about a female pilot. Since Egyptian non-verbal sentences are unmarked for tense, they can be used either without reference to a particular time or with more limited reference to the past, present, or future.

In many cases non-verbal sentences express a gnomic relationship, one that is true regardless of time (see § 7.16): nfr sw “He is good” (adjectival predicate); pḫrt pw nḫ “Life is a cycle” (nominal predicate); z sdmw m šmsw ḥrw “An obedient son is a follower of Horus” (adverbial predicate). More limited relationships can be indicated by something in the sentence itself (as the pronoun her does for the noun pilot in the English sentence cited above): for example, nfr n.f m hrw pn “It is good for him on this day” (adjectival predicate: Exercise 8, no. 12), jw mwt m ḥr.j mjn “Death is in my sight now” (adverbial predicate: § 10.3). Often, however, it is only the context that determines whether the relationship expressed by a non-verbal sentence is meant as generic or as true in the past, present, or future.

The adverbial sentence jw mwt m ḥr.j mjn “Death is in my sight now” is clearly meant to be understood as true in the present, not gnomically or in the past or future. This temporal limitation is indicated not only by the adverb mjn “now” but also by the particle jw, which is typically used for statements that are true only temporarily or in particular circumstances. As we saw in § 10.3, jw can also be used in this way with an adjectival predicate: jw nfr sw m p hrw “He is good on this day.” In both cases jw serves to mark the sentence as limited rather than generic in reference.

Here we come to an important difference between the various kinds of non-verbal sentences. Although all three are unmarked for tense, in Middle Egyptian normally only those with an adverbial or adjectival predicate can be marked to indicate that they have more limited reference to a particular time or circumstance. This has to do with the kind of relationship that each type of non-verbal sentence expresses. In Egyptian, quality and location are relationships that can be expressed either as unmarked for tense (in the basic adjectival and adverbial sentence) or as marked (for example, by jw) for reference to a more limited time or circumstance: nfr sw “He is good” vs. jw nfr sw m p hrw “He is good today”; ḫrwt.k m pr.k “Your possessions are in your house” vs. jw.f m t “It is in a room.” For relationships of identity, however, Egyptian makes a distinction between marked and unmarked sentences. Nominal sentences can only express relationships of identity that are unmarked for tense: ntk r “You are the Sun.” Naturally, since such sentences are unmarked they can be used not only for gnomic statements but also for statements that have a more limited applicability: r pw “He is the Sun,” ḥfw pw “It was a snake.” Relationships of identity that are marked for reference to a more limited time or circumstance, however, can only be expressed by the adverbial sentence of identity with the preposition m (§ 10.6): ntk ḥrw “You are Horus” (unmarked) vs. jw.k m ḥrw “You are Horus” (literally, “You are in Horus”: compare Exercise 10, no. 15).

As we have noted before, these distinctions that exist in Egyptian sentences normally make no difference to their English translations. It is important to be aware of them, however, not only because they do exist in Egyptian but also because they underlie some other differences in Egyptian grammar that we will meet later.

11.4The non-verbal negation of existence and adverbial sentences

In § 10.4.2 we saw that the particle nn “not” is used to negate the adverbial sentence. The same particle can also be used to negate existence in a sentence with the pattern nn A, where A is a noun, noun phrase, or pronoun, without any prepositional phrase or adverb after it: for example, nn mtjw (Leb. 122) “There are no righteous men.”¹

When nn A contains a noun that has a suffix pronoun, the sentence amounts to the negation of possession: for example, nn msw.f (Peas. B2, 100) “He has no children” (literally, “His children are not”). This construction is often found after an undefined noun (§ 4.9); in that case, nn can usually be translated by the English preposition “without”: for example, (Sin. R 38) wsḫt nn ḥmw.s “a barge without a rudder” (literally, “a barge, its rudder not”).

In some cases what looks like a negated adverbial sentence can be interpreted as a nn A kind of negation of existence with an adverb or prepositional phrase attached: for example, nn tms ḥr.s (Smith 16, 15) “There is no redness on it.” Actually, however, there is no difference between this kind of sentence and a negated adverbial sentence such as nn mjwt.k ḥn.k (MuK. vo. 2, 3) “Your mother is not with you.” Just like the negation of existence, the negated adverbial sentence amounts to a denial that the subject exists in the situation specified by the adverbial phrase: i.e., as far as the situation ḥn.k “with you” is concerned, mjwt.k “your mother” is nonexistent.

11.5The negation of nominal sentences

In Middle Egyptian, nominal sentences are normally negated by two words together: the particle nj (without !) plus the particle js. These two elements stand on either side of the A part of the sentence—i.e., nj A js B, nj A js pw, and nj A js pw B: for example,

nj ntk js z(j) (Leb. 31) “You are not a man”

nj n(j)-wj js spt (CT III, 390e) “I do not belong to the nome”

nj wsḫ js pw (Peas. R 7, 4) “It was not a broad one”

nj wr js pw wr jm (Peas. B1, 196)

The great one in that case (jm) is not a great one.

These examples are negations of the sentences ntk zj “You are a man” (A B), n(j)-wj spt “I belong to the nome,” wsḫ pw “It was a broad one” (A pw: see § 7.15), and wr pw wr jm “The great one in that case is a great one” (A pw B), respectively. Occasionally the pw part of a negated A pw sentence can be omitted: nj z.j js (Sethe, Lesestücke, 84, 16) “He is not my son” (negation of z.j pw “He is my son”).

The particles nj and js “bracket” the A part of the sentence, much like the negative particles ne (or n’) and pas do for French verbs (Tu n’es pas un homme “You are not a man”). Both nj and js are essential parts of the negation, even though they are separated from one another. The nominal sentence is not negated just by nj alone: apparent exceptions are really different constructions, as we will see below.

The particle nn is not normally found in nominal sentences. In a few cases, however, it is used instead of nj or even by itself as a negation of the nominal sentence: for example,

nn z.k js pw (Ptahhotep 213 L2)

He is not your son

nn tpw pw ḥr rmnwj.tn (CG 20530, 7)

It is not a load on your shoulders.

This kind of negation, however, is normally found only in texts after Dynasty 12, and even there it is the exception rather than the rule.

11.6The negation of adjectival sentences

Besides its use in the negation of the adverbial sentence and in nn A construction, the particle nn is also used to negate the adjectival sentence: for example,

m.tn nn šrr p t ḥ(n)qt (Siut I, 295)

Look, that (amount of) bread and beer is not little,

where šrr is the adjectival predicate and p t ḥ(n)qt is the subject. Such sentences are not common in Middle Egyptian. Normally the language prefers to use a nominal-sentence construction instead: for example, nj wsḫ js pw “It was not a broad one” (cited in the previous section), instead of nn wsḫ st “It was not broad.” Other sentences that seem to contain an adjectival predicate negated by nj alone, without js, actually have a verbal predicate, not an adjectival one, as we will see later.

11.7Other non-verbal negations

Besides negating non-verbal sentences, Egyptian can also negate individual words or phrases. English does this with the negatives no or not: for example, No pets allowed (negation of the noun pets), not in living memory (negation of the prepositional phrase in living memory). In Egyptian the particle nj is used to negate words: for instance,

nj ḫt pw (Smith 15, 15) “It is nothing.”

This is an A pw nominal sentence in which the A part is the phrase nj ḫt “nothing” (i.e., “no thing”).² Although it looks like a negated nominal sentence, it does not conform to any of the patterns used for such a sentence (§ 11.5). Here only the word ḫt “thing” is negated, not the sentence itself: if the Egyptian scribe had wanted to negate the sentence, he would have written nj ḫt js pw (Siut I, 301) “It is not a thing.”

When a word or phrase is negated in contrast to another word or phrase, Egyptian uses the negation , consisting of the negative nj and the particle js together. The negation nj js can normally be translated “not,” “and not,” “but not,” or “except”: for example,

ḥwrw nj js mjtw.k (Ptahhotep 75)

an inferior, not your equal (negation of the noun mjtw.k)

m mt nj js m grg (Hatnub 49)

in truth, and not in lying (negation of the prepositional phrase m grg)

rwd jnm.f nj js wrt (Ebers 104, 8)

his skin is firm, but not greatly (negation of the adverb wrt).

As these examples show, nj js negates both words and phrases, while nj by itself negates words. The difference between nj and nj js as the negation of a word is that nj js is only used when the negation contrasts with or qualifies some other word or phrase, as can be seen in the examples given above.

11.8Non-verbal negations: summary

For convenient reference, the non-verbal negations we have met in this lesson and the previous one can be summarized as follows:

NEGATIONS WITH nj

[picture] | negates words (§ 11.7)
[picture] | negates contrastive words or phrases (§ 11.7)
… | negates nominal sentences (§ 11.5)

NEGATIONS WITH nn

[picture] | negates existence (§ 11.4)
| negates adverbial sentences (§§ 10.4.2, 11.4)
| negates adjectival sentences (§ 11.6)
| negates nominal sentences (in later Middle Egyptian: § 11.5)
[picture] | negates nominal sentences (in later Middle Egyptian: § 11.5).

11.9Non-verbal sentences of possession

Beginning in Lesson 6 we have seen a number of ways in which Middle Egyptian expresses the relationship between a possessor and a thing possessed without using a verb:

1)as nominal predicate

nb X “owner of X” (§ 6.9), where nb is the owner and X is the thing owned: for example, jnk nb kw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 20–21) “I am an owner of bulls”

nfr ḥr “beautiful of face” (§§ 6.5, 6.9), where nfr refers to the owner and ḥr is the thing possessed: for example, jnk š mrwt (Sin. B 154–55) “I have many dependants” (literally, “I am many of dependants”)

nj A B “A belongs to B” or “B belongs to A” (§ 7.8), where either A or B can be the owner: for instance, n(j) wj r (Ebers 1, 7–8) “I belong to the Sun,” nnk pt (CT VI, 240f) “The sky belongs to me”

2)as adverbial predicate

with the preposition n “to” and the prepositional phrases n X jm(y) “X’s” and m “in the hand of ” (§§ 8.10, 10.7) before the owner: for example, nn jz n sbj (CG 20538 IIc, 19) “The rebel has no tomb,” n.k jm s(j) (Sin. B 222) “It is yours,” ḫrwt.j m .j (Urk. IV, 123, 10) “I have my possessions”

with the preposition ḫr “under,” where the object of the preposition is the thing possessed by the subject: tw.n ḫr kmt “We have Egypt” (Helck, HBT, 86).

Note also the construction with nn followed by a noun with a suffix pronoun, discussed in § 11.4 above: nn msw.f “He has no children.” Although most of these require a verb in the English translation (“own,” “belong,” “have,” etc.), they are all non-verbal sentences in Egyptian, since Egyptian has no verb of possession.

11.10Non-verbal sentences without a subject

In §§ 8.5 and 10.9, we saw that adjectival and adverbial predicates can both be used without a subject when the subject doesn’t refer to anything in particular. Such sentences are normally translated in English using the “dummy subject” it: for example, nfr n.tn “It is good for you” and jw mj sḫr ntr “It was like the plan of a god.” Nominal sentences in Middle Egyptian must have an expressed subject, except in the negative, where the pw of an A pw sentence can be omitted: for instance, nj z.j js “He is not my son” (§ 11.5). In this case the omitted subject actually refers to something (“he”) but is still omitted, perhaps for stylistic reasons.

11.11Non-verbal interrogative sentences

In Lessons 7 and 10 we met examples of non-verbal sentences in which the predicate is an interrogative pronoun, adjective, or adverb, or a prepositional phrase containing an interrogative pronoun (§§ 7.13, 10.10). Egyptian can also make questions with non-verbal sentences that do not have interrogative words. This can be done in two ways.

1)Virtual questions

Grammarians use the term “virtual” as the opposite of “real.” A virtual question is one that has nothing to indicate it is a question other than its context: that is, a sentence that functions as a question but is really a statement. This kind of question exists in English: for example, Jack isn’t here yet?, which has exactly the same words and structure as the statement Jack isn’t here yet. In English speech, of course, the two sentences are pronounced differently: in the question the voice rises at the end of the sentence, and in the statement it falls at the end (you can see the difference by pronouncing the two sentences out loud). In writing, however, the only thing that distinguishes them is their final punctuation (question mark versus period).

Egyptian could also make virtual questions. Presumably they too differed from statements in their pronunciation, but there is nothing to show how this was done. Since written Egyptian has no punctuation marks, virtual questions look the same as statements. An example is the two-part sentence mw jm nn mw jm (Ebers 69, 3) “Is water there, or is water not there?” This is really two statements that are used as questions: literally, “Water is there? Water is not there?”

Such virtual questions seem to be as common in Egyptian as they are in English. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing whether a non-verbal sentence is meant as a statement or a question except from the context in which it is used. Even then the meaning is not always clear. In the example just cited, for instance, the sentence nn mw jm could also be understood as an answering statement “There is no water there.”

2)Questions with interrogative particles

Although languages can make virtual questions, they also have overt ways of distinguishing questions from statements. In English, questions are normally indicated by reversing the subject and verb: for instance, Is Jill here? versus Jill is here. In Egyptian, real (non-virtual) questions are usually marked by one or two particles:

jn (also , sometimes or n)—at the beginning of the sentence

tr (also tj)—inside the sentence, usually after the first word.

We have already met these particles: jn in questions with the interrogative pronoun mj (§ 7.13.1); and tr as part of the interrogative pronoun ptr, originally pw-tr (§ 5.11).

The particle jn can be used by itself or with tr, and it seems to appear in questions with all kinds of predicates. It serves as a kind of Egyptian “question mark,” and like a question mark is not normally translated; the particle tr also is usually not translated; occasionally, however, it seems to mean something like “actually” or “really.” Examples of jn with a nominal predicate are:

jn mjḫt pw (Peas. B2, 77) “Is it a scale?” (an A pw sentence)

jn p pw ḫn n mdt (Peas. B1, 50)

Is this the phrase of speech? (an A pw B sentence).

Sentences with an adverbial predicate regularly use the particle jw after jn: for example,

jn jw tr (j)t(j.j) (CT I, 277c) “Is my father really here?”

jn jw n.k jtj.j r wt (Peas. R 8, 7–8)

Is my grain to (be) a path for you?

Sentences with a nominal predicate can also have the particle jw after jn, unlike regular nominal sentences (§§ 10.3, 11.3): for instance, the A pw sentence

jn jw qsnt pw (Leb. 20) “Is it something difficult?”

This is just about the only situation in which Middle Egyptian uses jw in a sentence with nominal predicate.

When the particle jn is written , the sentence can look like a negative statement rather than a question: for example,

nj wr n.k ntjw (ShS. 150) “Do you have a great deal of myrrh?”

nj jnk tr zm.f (Sin. B 114) “Am I his confederate?”

Despite their appearance, we can be fairly certain that these are questions because they do not match the pattern for the negation of non-verbal sentences. The first example has an adjectival predicate—literally, “Is myrrh great to you?”—and should be a question because the few instances of negated adjectival sentences use the negations nn or nj … js, not nj alone (§ 11.6). The second example is an A B nominal sentence, which is negated by nj … js or less often by nn … js or nn, but not by nj alone (§ 11.5).

These last two examples show how important it is to pay careful attention to the wording of an Egyptian sentence. Since hieroglyphic spelling is not standardized, we often have to rely on clues such as sentence patterns and word-order to understand what a particular sentence means. Sometimes we are fortunate enough to have several ancient copies of a particular text to guide us as well. The last example in the previous paragraph (from a Middle Egyptian story) is a case in point: in another copy of the story the same sentence has jn jw instead of , so we can be fairly certain that is in fact a spelling of jn and not the negation. But this kind of extra evidence is the exception rather than the rule. In most cases, we only have the structure of the sentence itself to guide us.

ESSAY 11. THE WORLD BEFORE CREATION

Egyptian texts frequently make reference to the gods and events involved in the creation of the world. There were many different creation accounts, and most of these were associated with the cult of a particular god in one of the major cities of ancient Egypt. Egyptologists used to think that these represented competing theologies, and to a certain extent this was true. Now, however, scholars have recognized that the various accounts are less rival explanations of the creation than different aspects of a single, uniform understanding of how the world came to be. In the next few essays we will look at these different accounts, and the gods involved in them.

In Egyptian the creation was called rk ntr “the time of the god,” or more specifically rk r “the time of the Sun,” but also rk ntrw “the time of the gods.” This reflects the Egyptian view that the creation involved both a single creator and the other gods as well: it was a cooperative effort among all the forces and elements of the universe.

Before the world was created the universe was a limitless ocean, whose waters stretched to infinity in all directions (see Essay 2). The Egyptians called this ocean nw(j) “the watery one.” Like the other elements of the universe, it was a god (Nu, later Nun), who is often called jt(j) ntrw “father of the gods” in recognition of his priority.

Although no one had ever seen this universal ocean, its features could be imagined by contrast to the created world. It was water (nwj), while the world contains dry land and air. Where the created world is active, it was inert n(j)n(j), source of the later name Nun). It was an infinite flood ḥḥw), where the land of the world is finite. While the world is lit by the sun, it lay in perpetual darkness kkw). And in contrast to the tangible and knowable world, it was hidden jmn) and lost tnm).

Like the waters themselves, these qualities were seen as divine in their own right, and as gods because their names are masculine. Some of them are mentioned in the earliest religious texts, dating to the end of the Old Kingdom. Because the waters themselves were an integral part of the creation— its background—the waters’ qualities could also be seen as creator gods. In texts of the First Intermediate Period and the Middle Kingdom we meet four of them in this role: Wateriness (nwj) and Infinity (ḥḥw), Darkness (kkw) and “Lostness” (tnmw). Since the Egyptians equated creation with birth, the male qualities were given female counterparts. By the Late Period, the group consisted of four pairs: usually Nu (or Nun) and Naunet (see Essay 2), representing both wateriness and inertness (njnj); Huh and Hauhet, infinity; Kuk and Kauket, darkness; and Amun and Amaunet, hiddenness.

The eight gods together were worshipped as ḫmnyw “the Ogdoad” (a Greek word meaning “group of eight”). They are often shown with the heads of frogs (male) and snakes (female), two species of animal that the Egyptians associated with creative waters. The theology and worship of the Ogdoad was centered in the town of Hermopolis, which was called ḫmnw “Eight-town” in their honor. This name, which was pronounced šmoyn in Coptic, has survived in the modern Arabic name of the site of ancient Hermopolis, el-Ashmunein.

The myths that concentrate on the Ogdoad’s role in the creation are known as the Hermopolitan system. Most of what we know about this theology comes from texts of the Ptolemaic Period. These call the group “the first originals … the eldest gods, who started evolution … who created the beginning in their time” (Sethe, Amun, pl. 4). In earlier texts the gods are simply mentioned by name. Although we lack early accounts of the Hermopolitan system, however, it is likely that the Ogdoad we find in the Ptolemaic Period existed already in the Old Kingdom, since the name ḫmnw “Eight-town” dates back to the Fifth Dynasty.

In one of the later texts the Ogdoad is described as “the fathers and mothers of the sun disk … they floated in attendance on him and came to stand on the high hill from which the sun’s lotus arose” (Sethe, Amun, pl. 4). This refers to one of the earliest known Egyptian images of the creation: a mound of earth that emerged as the first dry land when the primeval waters receded. It is tempting to see in this image the view of the early Egyptian farmers, watching the highest mounds of earth emerge as the annual floodwaters of the inundation receded from their fields. Just as the Nile’s inundation left the land fertile and ready to grow new plants, so too the universal waters produced new life on the primeval mound, in the form of a lotus from whose blossom the sun emerged for the first time into the world, to give “light after the darkness.”

The Egyptians worshipped this first plant as the god Nefertum nfr-tm). The primeval hill itself they honored as the first “place” in the world, often in the form of the god Tatenen t-tnn(j) literally, “land that becomes distinct”). Many Egyptian temples had a mound of earth in their sanctuary, which not only commemorated this primeval hill but which also was viewed as the primeval mound. Like the creation accounts themselves, these various mounds did not compete for recognition as the primeval hill but were viewed as alternative, and complementary, realizations of the “first place” (see the discussion of syncretism in Essay 4).

The image of the primeval mound is preserved not only in creation texts but also in hieroglyphs. The word “appear” is always written with the biliteral sign , representing the rays of the sun appearing over a mound of earth. In early hieroglyphs this sign has the form , where the image is even clearer.

Fig. 10. King Haremhab and Nefertum (from the tomb of Haremhab; author’s photo)

EXERCISE 11

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (ShS. 100–101) — wḫ “fool”; ḥrj-jb see Exercise 10 no. 4

2. (Sin. B 230) — q s “arrogant” (literally, “high of back”)

3. (Sin. R 70–71) — grt “moreover,” 2nw “equal”

4. (Heqanakht I, 14) — bgj “being lazy”

5. (Helck, HBT, 96) — past; rmyt “tears”

6. (Peas. B2, 55) — ḫ “useful”

7. (Urk. IV, 123, 7) — jw “complaint”

8. (Ebers 108, 20) — for nf see §§ 5.8–5.9; wt “lump”

9. (MuK. 2, 8–9) — ḥmt “servant,” špst “noblewoman”

10. (Peas. B1, 220–21) — a metaphor for lawlessness: njwt “town,” ḥq-ḥwt “mayor” (literally, “ruler of the enclosure”)

11. (Peas. B2, 109) — sf “yesterday,” wzfw “one who forgets”

12. (BD 110) — dw “bad”

13. (Amenemhat 2, 4) — swt “but” (comes inside the sentence in Egyptian, but first in English), qn “brave,” grḥ “night” (see § 8.14)

14. (Peas. B2, 110) — ḫnms “friend,” zh “one who cannot hear”

15. (Urk. IV, 1071, 8) — sbḫt “barrier”

16. (Siut I, 284) — ḥtj- “high official”

17. (Sin. R 16) — mnmnt “herd” (collective), drw “limit”

18. (Peas. B2, 110–11) — hrw nfr “good time, holiday” (literally, “good day”), wn-jb “greedy” (literally, “covetous of heart”)

19. (Kagemni 1, 3) — ḥn “hurrying,” zp “proper time”

20. (Peas. B1, 333) — wy “robber”

21. (Adm. 14, 13) — tjmḥj “Libyan”

22. (Sin. B 267)

1 mtjw is a masculine plural nisbe from the noun mt “Maat” (see Essay 10).

2 The word ḫt is often written with plural strokes when it does not refer to any “thing” in particular.

12.VERBS

12.1Introduction

Verbs are words that languages use to describe actions. In a clause or sentence, nouns and pronouns are normally the subject (what is being talked about), while verbs are usually the predicate (what is said about the subject: § 7.1). In English, every clause or sentence has a verbal predicate; Egyptian, however, can make clauses or sentences without verbs, as we have seen in the preceding lessons.

Verbs are the most complex part of any language. The other elements—nouns, pronouns, adjectives, prepositions, adverbs, and particles—have one or a few forms (such as singular and plural, masculine and feminine), but verbs typically have many different forms. The English verb throw, for example, has not only the simple forms throw, throws, threw, thrown, and throwing, but also numerous compound forms such as will throw, should throw, have thrown, had thrown, is thrown, is throwing, will be throwing, should have been thrown, were to have been throwing, and so forth.

Because of this feature, verbs are typically the most difficult and time-consuming part of learning any language. This is as true for Middle Egyptian as it is for a modern language such as English. Egyptian verbs are mostly simpler than those of English, but in some ways they are more complex. This lesson will give us an overview of the Middle Egyptian verb, but it will take the rest of this book for us to examine all the verb forms, their meanings, and their uses in Egyptian sentences.

12.2Kinds of verbs

Egyptian, like English, has two different kinds of verbs, which grammarians call transitive and intransitive. The difference between these two categories has to do with the relationship between the action expressed by the verb and the verb’s agent: that is, the person or thing that performs the action.

Transitive verbs are used to describe an action that is “transferred” from the agent. The English verb throw, for example, is transitive because it can be used in statements such as the boy threw the ball, where the action of the verb is “transferred” from the agent (the boy) to the ball. Transitive verbs typically involve two different parties: the agent who performs the action, and someone or something on whom the action is performed or to whom it is “transferred.”

Intransitive verbs are used to describe an action that is not “transferred” but remains with the agent. Intransitive verbs typically involve only one party, the agent. Often they describe some kind of change in the agent’s state or condition. An example is the English verb fall: a statement such as the boy fell to the ground describes a change in the state of the agent (the boy)—for instance, from sitting in a tree to lying on the ground. There are several different kinds of intransitive verbs. Some describe simply a change of state or condition, such as the English verbs happen and rejoice. Verbs of motion describe a change involving movement, such as come, go, and fall. Adjective verbs describe a change in quality: for example, expand and diminish.

The difference between transitive and intransitive exists in the verb itself, no matter what form the verb appears in. Thus, the words fall, falling, and fallen, are all intransitive. Speakers of English are naturally aware of this difference, but it is not always easy to appreciate because very few verbs are strictly transitive or intransitive. Most are normally one kind or the other but can occasionally be used in the opposite way. The English verb sit, for example, is basically intransitive, but it can also be used transitively, as in the expression sit the child in her chair or the idiom sit a horse, which means “sit on a horse.”

Transitive verbs are usually more flexible than intransitive verbs in this respect. The English verb sing, for example, is transitive because it can be used in a statement such as the soprano sang an aria, where an aria is what is affected by the agent’s action. But the same verb can also be used to describe an action involving only the agent, as in the soprano sang. In such cases, however, the verb is not intransitive but is merely used without specifying the thing affected by the action of the agent.

The person or thing affected by a transitive verb can also be identical with the agent of the verb. This is a special kind of construction known as reflexive use (because it “reflects back” on the agent). In English it is made by using a reflexive pronoun (with the suffix –self ) to indicate the person or thing to whom the action is “transferred”: for example, the boy injured himself. Even though the person or thing affected in this use is identical with the agent, the verb is still transitive because it describes an action performed on someone or something.

In general, a verb can be identified as transitive if it is normally used to describe an action performed on someone or something and not to describe a change in the state or condition of the agent (except reflexively). An intransitive verb can usually be recognized by the opposite criterion: if it is normally used to describe a change in the state or condition of the agent and not to describe an action performed on someone or something.

It is important to be aware of the differences between these various kinds of verbs, because they are often treated differently in grammar. In English, for example, only transitive verbs can be made passive: for example, the ball was thrown but not the boy was *falled. Similar grammatical differences exist in Egyptian verbs as well, as we will see in coming lessons.

12.3Lexical and inflectional features

The many different forms that a verb can have come from two different levels of grammar, lexical and inflectional. The lexical level exists in the lexicon, which is the collection of words used in a language (its “dictionary”); the inflectional level operates when words are actually used in sentences. Forms that come from the inflectional level are generated by regular rules; those that derive from the lexicon cannot be generated by such rules. For example, the past tense of most English verbs is formed by an inflectional rule that adds –d or –ed, but some verbs have past tenses for which there is no regular rule, and some verbs have both kinds. The past tense of ring, for instance, is generated inflectionally when the verb means “surround” (as in The woods ringed the camp) but lexically when it means “make a ringing noise” (as in transitive Jack rang the doorbell and intransitive The doorbell rang). The form rang comes from the lexicon because there is no regular rule for making the past tense of verbs like ring by changing i to a (otherwise, the past tense of bring would be brang).

In English, verb forms that come from the level of the lexicon are what grammarians call synthetic, meaning that they are made by changing the form of the verb (as in rang from ring). Those that are formed inflectionally can be synthetic (as in ringed and ringing from ring), but they can also be analytic, meaning that they are made by adding different verb forms together: for example, did ring, should ring, will ring, might have been ringing, and so forth.

Middle Egyptian uses similar methods for making its verb forms, but much more regularly. Unlike English, most of its verb forms are synthetic; some of these come from the lexical level, but others are generated inflectionally.

12.4Root and stems

The root of a verb, which comes from the lexicon, is the most basic part. In English, for example, ring is the root of the verb forms rings, ringed, and ringing (see the discussion of noun roots in § 4.2). In Egyptian, roots consist of consonants, each of which is called a “radical.” An example is the verb stp “select,” which has the root stp and three radicals. There are several different kinds of roots, as we will see in the next section, and these determine some of the forms that the verb can have.

The stem is a modification of the root. There are several kinds of stems in Middle Egyptian verbs, which also come from the lexicon:

1)The base stem is the simplest, usually identical to the root: the base stem of stp “select,” for example, is stp. If the root ends in j or w, however, the base stem is usually the form without j or w: for instance, the usual base stem of prj “emerge” is pr; similarly, for zw “guard” the base stem is z. The reason for this difference is that the final radical j actually shows that the root ends in a vowel (usually *i): the base stem of prj, for instance, is *píri (reconstructed from Coptic). This is normally written pr, although sometimes the final vowel can be shown as j (prj) or even y (pry).¹ For verbs such as zw, the final radical was probably also a vowel. The w is omitted if the scribe heard this radical as a vowel but written either to show that the root ends in a vowel or because the scribe thought of it as the consonant w (we don’t know how zw was pronounced).

2)The geminated stem has a doubled (“geminated”) consonant. For most verbs, this is the final radical: for stp the geminated stem is stpp. If the root ends in j or w, however, the geminated stem doubles the consonant before j or w, since the final radical is a vowel: the geminated stem of prj is prr, and the geminated stem of zw is z. Gemination adds the sense of repetitive, continual, or normative action to the root: the verb mrj, for example, means “like, want, desire,” but its geminated stem mrr usually means “love”—that is, the continual act of “desiring.”

3)The causative stem is formed by adding s to the front of the root. Causatives generally denote causation of the action expressed by the root without s: for example, sḫpr “bring about, cause to happen,” from ḫpr “evolve, happen, occur.” Most causative stems have an attested simplex (root without s), but a few do not. Causatives are uniformly transitive. Their meaning can generally be translated by the verb “cause” plus the meaning of the simplex, but a few causatives have slightly different meanings: for example, swd “bequeath, hand over,” from wd “command.” Although all causatives have an initial radical s, not all roots beginning with s are causative: stp “select,” for example, is not. Egyptologists can generally determine whether a verb is causative or not from its meaning, by the fact that it has an attested simplex, and by the fact that causative roots often behave differently than other roots with the same number and kinds of radicals.

There were other kinds of stems besides these three, but they are much less common and are generally considered as separate roots rather than stems. Although all verbs have a base stem, not every verb could have a geminated or causative stem. In some cases, geminated stems do not show up in writing because of the rule discussed in § 2.8.2: for example, stp could represent not only *satpá but also *satappá. We will see some instances of this in the next section.

12.5Root classes

Egyptologists divide Egyptian verbs into classes based on the form of their root. These include causatives as well as basic roots. Although causatives are actually stems, this book adopts the traditional description of them as separate roots for the sake of continuity with previous studies.

Middle Egyptian verbs can have from two to five radicals. In older grammatical studies, the root classes were given Latin names. These names, or their abbreviations, are still used in grammars; most English-speaking Egyptologists, however, also use an English translation of the Latin name (given in parentheses below).

1)2–lit. (biliteral)—verbs with two radicals (AB): example, dd “say.” A few biliteral verbs have the consonant j as the second radical (Aj); these are sometimes called second-weak verbs, abbreviated 2ae-inf., from the Latin secundae infirmae “of the second-weak (class)”: for example, zj “go.” In Middle Egyptian these are generally treated like other biliterals.

Base stem: | dd, zj
Geminated stem: | ddd; 2ae-inf. verbs have no known geminated stem.

2)2ae-gem. (second-geminate; Latin secundae geminatae)—three-radical verbs with the same second and third consonant (ABB): example, tmm “close.”

Base stem: | tmm (written tm or tmm)
Geminated stem: | tmmm (written tmm)

These are verbs with a geminated root. The writing of the two stems is affected by the rule that two consonants in contact are written only once (§ 2.8.2). The form tm always represents the base stem: for example, tm “close” = *tammá. The form tmm, however, can represent either the base stem or the geminated one: for instance, tmm “close” can represent both *tamám (base) and *tamammá (geminated).

3)3-lit. (triliteral)—verbs with three radicals (ABC): example, stp “select.” A very few verbs of this class have the consonant j or w as the third radical: examples, dmj “touch” (originally dmr) and bw “brand.” Most verbs with final j belong to the next class, however.

Base stem: | stp, dmj, bw
Geminated stem: | stpp; verbs with final j or w have no geminated stem.

4)3ae-inf. (third-weak; Latin tertiae infirmae)—verbs with three radicals in which the third radical is j or w (ABj, ABw): examples, mrj “like, want, desire” and zw “guard.” Most verbs in this class have a final radical j; 3ae-w verbs are usually “strong” triliterals (3-lit.).

Base stem: | mr (or mrj, mry), z (or zw)
Geminated stem: | mrr, z.

Most 3ae-inf. verbs behave alike. A few verbs of this class, however, have no geminated stem, or geminate only rarely. The most common such verb is šmj “go, walk.”

5)3ae-gem. (third-geminate; Latin tertiae geminatae)—verbs with four radicals in which the third and fourth radicals are the same (ABCC): example, snbb “converse.”

Base stem: | snbb
Geminated stem: | none.

Like those of the 2ae-gem. class, these are verbs with a geminated root. There is no evidence for a geminated stem, although one could theoretically have existed (e.g., *snbbb).

6)4-lit. (quadriliteral)—verbs with four radicals (ABCD or ABAB): examples, wstn “stride” and ptpt “trample.” Most 4-lit. verbs have the root pattern ABAB. These are known as reduplicated roots; many of them are related to biliteral roots with the same consonants: for example, snsn “fraternize” and sn “kiss, smell.” Some reduplicated quadriliterals have the root pattern AjAj. These usually omit the “weak” consonant or write it only in final position: for example, ḥjḥj “seek.” These look like “geminated” biliterals (AA) or 3ae-inf. roots with identical first and second radicals (AAj), but they are 4-lit. roots because Egyptian has no verb roots with the patterns AA or AAj.

Base stem: | wstn, ptpt, ḥjḥj
Geminated stem: | none.

7)4ae-inf. (fourth-weak; Latin quartae infirmae)—verbs with four radicals in which the fourth radical is the “weak” consonant j (ABCj): example, msdj “hate.” There are actually two kinds of 4ae-inf. verbs: some have only a base stem; others have a geminated stem as well. The verb msdj is a geminating 4ae-inf. verb; ḥmsj “sit down” is a non-geminating 4ae-inf. verb.

Base stem: | msd, ḥms
Geminated stem: | msdd (geminating 4ae-inf. verbs only).

Like 3ae-inf. verbs, these also have a vowel as their final radical. The final vowel is rarely shown (as j or y) and in some forms it seems to have been omitted: for example, *ḥimásta “seated” (ḥms.tj).

8)5-lit. (quinquiliteral)—verbs with five radicals. All verbs of this class are reduplicated from original 3-lit. or 3ae-inf. roots (ABCBC or ABjBj); often the nonreduplicated root is also attested: examples, nhmhm and nhm “yell,” ddjdj and ddj “endure.” Most 5-lit. verbs probably connote a more intense or extended action than their triliteral counterparts: thus, nhmhm “yell loudly, yell a lot” vs. nhm “yell.” Verbs of this class seem to be all intransitive.

Base stem: | nhmhm, dd(j)d(j)
Geminated stem: | none.

Old Egyptian also possessed a few verbs with 6-lit. roots, which are fully reduplicated from triliteral roots—for example, nddndd “endure”—but Middle Egyptian uses only the partly-reduplicated root (ndddd), with rare exceptions.

9)caus. 2–lit. (causative biliteral)—causatives of 2-lit. roots: example, smn “fix, set,” from mn “become fixed, set.” In Old Egyptian this class also included the causatives of 3-lit. roots with initial w or j, since these consonants were lost in the causative: for example, ssḫ “broaden,” from wsḫ “become broad.” In Middle Egyptian, however, such roots are normally treated like other 3-lit. roots in the causative swsḫ).

Base stem: | smn
Geminated stem: | none.

10)caus. 2ae-gem. (causative second-geminate)—mostly causatives of 2ae-gem. roots: example, sqbb “cool, make cool” (transitive), from qbb “cool, become cool” (intransitive). Some verbs of this class are from reduplicated 2-lit. roots: for example, sfkk “devastate,” related to fk “become desolate” (the root *fkk does not exist).

Base stem: | sqb (rare) or sqbb
Geminated stem: | none.

11)caus. 3-lit. (causative triliteral)—causatives of 3-lit. roots: example, snḫ “give life, make live, nourish” from nḫ “live.”

Base stem: | snḫ
Geminated stem: | none.

12)caus. 3ae-inf. (causative third-weak)—causatives of 3ae-inf. roots: example, sḫpj “lead,” from ḫpj “walk.”

Base stem: | sḫp
Geminated stem: | sḫpp (rare).

13)caus. 4-lit. (causative quadriliteral)—causatives of 4-lit. roots: example, sḫḫ “make verdant,” from ḫḫ “become verdant.” This is one of the few verbs of this class that can be traced to a 4-lit. simplex. Other caus. 4-lit. verbs are reduplicated caus. 2-lit. roots: for example, sḫdḫd “invert,” from sḫd “invert.” No caus. 4-lit. verbs from non-reduplicated 4-lit. roots (sABCD) are known.

Base stem: | sḫḫ
Geminated stem: | none.

14)caus. 4ae-inf. (causative fourth-weak)—causatives of 4ae-inf. roots: for example, sbgj “make weary,” from bgj “become weary.”

Base stem: | sbg
Geminated stem: | none.

15)caus. 5-lit. (causative quinquiliteral)—causatives of 5-lit. roots: example, snḫbḫb “cause to draw back,” from nḫbḫb “draw back.” Some caus. 5-lit. roots are from reduplicated 3-lit. roots: for example, snšmšm “file” (as in “file smooth”), from nšm “cut.”

Base stem: | snḫbḫb
Geminated stem: | none.

Most Middle Egyptian verbs belong to one of these fifteen root classes. Although the classes are numerous, they are not all equally well represented. The most common are those with 2-lit., 3-lit., and 3ae-inf. roots: about two-thirds of all verbs belong to one of these three classes. Verbs with more than three radicals are relatively infrequent, except for the 4ae-inf. class. The same is true for the causatives, with the exception of caus. 2-lit. and caus. 3-lit. verbs. It is theoretically possible that Egyptian possessed some caus. 3ae-gem. roots, but no verbs of this class have yet been found.

It is important to know the root class of a verb, because this determines the shape of many of its forms. Egyptian is similar to English in this respect. Speakers of English have to learn, for example, that fall is a “strong” verb and call is a “weak” verb: even though these two verbs look alike, they belong to different classes, because they form their past tense and past participle differently (fell vs. called, fallen vs. called). Grammars of English do not teach the individual form of each verb in the language. Instead, they teach paradigms (see § 7.12 end). The paradigm of “weak” verbs, for example, indicates that their past tense and past participle is formed by adding –ed to the root. All “weak” verbs follow this paradigm: call – called, dictate – dictated, synthesize – synthesized, and so forth. It is up to the student of English to learn (from a dictionary) whether a particular verb is “weak” or not. Once this is known, the student can then produce all the proper forms of the verb by applying the paradigm.

Learning English is complicated by the fact that the class of a verb is not evident from its root: fall and call, for example, look quite similar. Moreover, not all “strong” verbs behave alike: ring, for instance, has the form rang in the past tense and rung in the past participle, while the similar-looking verb bring has the form brought in the past tense and past participle. Fortunately, Egyptian does not have these difficulties. The various root classes generally look different from each other, and all the verbs of a particular root class generally follow the same paradigm in producing their forms. This makes Egyptian verb forms easier to learn than those of English.

12.6Anomalous verbs

Like most languages, Middle Egyptian has several irregular verbs, which do not behave like other verbs of their class. Most of these are irregular only in one particular form, and are therefore generally considered along with other verbs of the class. Two 3ae-inf. verbs, however, are markedly different from other verbs of this class in many respects. For this reason, they are considered separately, in a class of anomalous (anom.) verbs.

1)rdj “give, put, cause”

The verb rdj is spelled with the biliteral signs or . The first of these signs originally had the value dj, but by Middle Egyptian it had become dj (see § 2.8.4). The second, which combines the first sign with a determinative , has the value dj; it is often written just . The verb rdj has two base stems and an irregular geminated stem:

Base stem: | rdj
| dj
Geminated stem: | dd .

The two base stems seem to have been variants rather than alternants—that is, two forms with the same meaning rather than different meanings.

2)jjj “come, return”

The verb meaning “come, return” has two different stems: 3ae-inf. jjj, spelled with the sign j, often with a phonetic complement and determinative jj); and 3ae-inf. jwj, spelled with the sign jw, usually with a phonetic complement rarely just . Both verbs behave like 3ae-inf. roots in some respects, but the final radical of jwj is rarely written. The stem jjj seems to be the base stem of this verb and jwj, its geminated counterpart::

Base stem: | j, jj
Geminated stem: | jw , very rarely jww .

12.7Defective verbs

Most verbs can be used in most forms of the Egyptian verbal system. A few, however, can appear in only one or two forms. These are known as defective verbs. In English, the verb can (for example) is defective, because it only appears in the present and past tenses (can, could). Middle Egyptian has a number of defective verbs. The most important is the negative verb jmj “not be, not do.” Although this is a 3ae-inf. root, it is used in only two verb forms.

12.8Inflectional features

In addition to the lexical features described in §§ 12.4–6, Egyptian verbs can also display a number of inflectional features, which are added when the verb is actually used in a sentence. There are three kinds of these features:

1)Endings are one or more consonants that are added to the end of the stem in various forms, just as gender and number endings are added to nouns and adjectives. The form wnnyw “those who exist,” for example, has the ending –y and the mpl ending –w added to the geminated stem of 2ae-gem. wnn “exist.”

2)Suffixes are one or two consonants that are added to the end of stems after any endings. In transcription they are usually separated from the stem and endings by a dot, like the suffix pronouns. In the form mrt.n.tw “what was wanted,” for example, the base stem mr has an ending –t and two suffixes indicating completed action (n) and the passive (tw).

3)The prefix is the consonant j (spelled or , added to the front of a verb form. Like the suffixes, it is usually separated by a dot in transcription: for instance, j.mz “bring!” from the verb mz “bring in, introduce.” The prefix is a common feature of verbs in Old and Late Egyptian but is rare in Middle Egyptian.

These elements are used in different combinations to make the various synthetic forms of the Middle Egyptian verb.

12.9Semantic features of verbs

Verbs describe not only action itself but also various characteristics of an action. These semantic features are indicated by the way the verb is used in a sentence and sometimes by its form. Egyptian verbs can express four such features, which also appear in English verb forms. (This section is intended to introduce terms that will come up in the rest of the book; it is not necessary to memorize all of them now.)

1)Tense

The feature of tense indicates the time of a verb’s action with respect to a particular point of reference. English has three basic tenses:

present—action simultaneous with the point of reference or not associated with any point of reference (gnomic: § 7.16.1): for example, Jack wants to go (Jack’s desire exists at the time the sentence is spoken) and Jill sings in the shower (something Jill generally does, though it does not necessarily happen at the time the sentence is spoken).

past—action that occurs before the point of reference: for example, Jack threw the ball (Jack’s action happened before the sentence is spoken).

future—action that occurs after the point of reference: for example, Jill will sing an aria (Jill’s singing has not yet taken place when the sentence is spoken).

In most cases, the time at which the sentence is spoken is the point of reference: in other words, the moment of speaking. Past actions, for example, are those that occur before the moment of speaking, while future actions take place after it. This is sometimes known as “absolute tense.” But the point of reference can also be another action. This can be called “relative tense.” English has two relative tenses. The pluperfect or past perfect indicates that the action occurs before some point of reference in the past: for example, Jack had left by the time Jill sang (Jill’s singing took place before the sentence is spoken, and Jack’s leaving happened before Jill sang). The future perfect indicates that the action occurs before some point of reference in the future: for example, Jack will have left by the time Jill sings (neither action has taken place when the sentence is spoken, and Jack’s leaving happens before Jill’s singing). Other verb forms can also be used as relative tenses: for example, in the English sentence Jack was leaving as Jill started singing, where the past tense Jack was leaving is concomitant with (takes place at the same time as) the past action Jill started singing.

English verb forms express either absolute or relative tense, but the verb forms of Middle Egyptian do not indicate tense. Although English requires us to translate Egyptian verb forms with a particular tense—for example, past or future—the tense comes from the context in which the forms are used and not from the forms themselves. Unlike English, Egyptian has no verb forms that always express a specific tense, either absolute or relative. We will examine this feature in more detail when we discuss the individual forms.

2)Aspect

The term “aspect” refers to the kind of action indicated by a verb form. English verbs can express several kinds of aspect, which can also be expressed—in different ways—by Egyptian verbs. The two most important are:

extension—used to indicate whether an action is done many times or not. The sentence Jill used to sing in the shower, for instance, refers to many instances of singing, while the sentence Jill sang in the shower usually refers to only one.

completion—used to indicate whether an action is completed or not. The sentence Jill has sung, for example, describes a completed action, while the sentence Jill is singing describes an incomplete one.

In English, the verb form that denotes completion is called the perfect (Jill has sung) and the form that expresses incomplete action is known as the imperfect or progressive (Jill is singing). These forms also refer to the time of an action’s occurrence, but unlike the simple tenses they indicate whether the action is completed or not, rather than simply past, present, or future. English grammar has no special names for forms that express extension.

Verb forms that express certain aspects are described as marked for those aspects (see the discussion of marked and unmarked forms in § 11.3). In Egyptian, aspect is marked both lexically and grammatically. The notion of multiple or repetitive action is expressed by lexical stems or roots: for example, geminated mrr “love” vs. unmarked mrj “want, desire.” Studies of Egyptian grammar have traditionally used the term imperfective for geminated forms and perfective for their unmarked counterparts.² Extension and completion are marked grammatically, by synthetic and analytic verb forms.

The feature of aspect is one of the major differences between the verbal systems of Egyptian and English. In Middle Egyptian, aspect is a primary feature of the verbal system and tense is secondary. The English verbal system is just the opposite, with tense as a primary feature and aspect as secondary. This means that Egyptian verb forms basically describe the kind of action, while those of English basically indicate tense.

3)Mood

The term “mood” refers to a value judgement that speakers place on verb forms. Both Egyptian and English have two moods:

indicative—indicates that the action of the verb is a statement of fact: for example, Jill sings in the shower (Jill’s singing actually happens).

subjunctive—indicates that the action of the verb is possible, desirable, or contingent: for instance, Jill might sing in the shower (possible), Jill should sing in the shower (desirable), Jill would sing in the shower if she wasn’t so shy (contingent).

Subjunctive forms are marked and indicative forms are unmarked. Verb forms are indicative unless they are specifically marked as subjunctive. The subjunctive can only indicate subjunctive mood, but indicative forms can sometimes be used to express possible, desirable, or contingent actions as well as statements of fact, because they are unmarked for mood.

4)Voice

The term “voice” refers to the relationship between the action of a verb and its subject. Both English and Egyptian have two voices:

active—indicates that the subject does the action: for example, Jack threw the ball (the subject, Jack, did the action of throwing).

passive—indicates that the action is done on the subject: for instance, The ball was thrown by Jack (the action of throwing was done on the subject, the ball).

It is important to recognize that voice has to do with the relationship between a verb and its subject (§ 7.1), not between a verb and its agent. In the active voice the subject and the agent are identical: in the sentence Jack threw the ball, Jack is both the subject of the verb and its agent. In the passive, the subject and agent are different: in the sentence The ball was thrown by Jack, the verb’s subject is the ball and its agent (the one who did the throwing) is Jack. English indicates the agent of a passive verb with the preposition by, but it can also make passive statements in which the agent is not expressed: The ball was thrown. Egyptian uses the preposition jn to indicate the agent (§ 8.2.2), and it too can make passive statements in which the agent is not expressed.

ESSAY 12. THE CREATION OF THE WORLD

The Hermopolitan system discussed in Essay 11 seems to have been primarily concerned with the background of the creation, describing what the universe was like before creation began. The actual process of creation was the interest of theologians in another great Egyptian city, Heliopolis (near the site of modern Cairo).

Egyptian creation accounts do not seem to have envisaged the possibility of something being created from nothing. Instead, they describe how everything in the world—all its elements and forces—came from a single source, much like the primordial singularity in the “Big Bang” theory of modern physics. This original source of all things was known as the god Atum (jtmw, usually written . The god’s name means “finisher,” and refers to the fact that Atum “finished up” as the world. In recognition of his nature, Atum is called nb tm “Lord of Totality” or more often, nb-r-dr “Lord to the Limit.”

Before the creation, Atum existed from all time within the primeval waters in a state of inert potentiality—as the texts describe it, “alone with Nu” (CT II, 33e–f) and “in his egg” (CT VI, 343n). The creation happened when Atum evolved into the world, becoming the finite space of light and life within the infinite universal ocean (see Essay 2). This process is explained both as Atum’s “self-evolution”—the god is often called ḫpr ds.f “he who evolved on his own”—and by the typical Egyptian metaphor of creation, birth.

The first act of creation involves the birth of two “children” from Atum: Shu šw) and Tefnut tfnwt, also tfnt). To explain how Atum could “give birth” to Shu and Tefnut by himself, the texts use the metaphors of masturbation or “sneezing” and “spitting,” the latter based on a play on words (jšš “sneeze” = šw “Shu,” tf “spit” = tfnt “Tefnut”). Shu is the atmosphere; his creation produced a dry šw), empty šw) space in the midst of the universal ocean, within which all life exists (Essay 2). Tefnut is the female counterpart of Shu; her role in the creation is essentially to serve as mother of the succeeding generations.

The creation of a void within the waters produced of necessity a bottom and a top where none had existed before. These are Geb gbb, later gbw), the earth, and Nut nwt), the sky, the children of Shu and Tefnut. Together they define the physical structure and limits of the created world. In one text Shu says:

I have lifted my daughter Nut atop me,

that I might give her to my father Atum in his utmost extent.

I have put Geb under my feet,

and that god knots together the land for my father Atum (CT II, 2c–f).

The creation of the world’s physical structure produced a place within which life could exist. The children of Geb and Nut are the primary forces of life: Osiris jsjr, also and, after the Middle Kingdom, , the power of birth and regeneration; Isis jst), the principle of motherhood; Seth (originally stš; by the Middle Kingdom sth; in the New Kingdom often swtḫ; also written with the Seth-animal, or , as ideogram or determinative), the force of male sexuality; and Nephthys nbt-ḥwt), the female counterpart of Seth.

Together, Atum and his eight descendants are known as the Ennead, a Greek word meaning “group of nine.” This is a direct translation of the Egyptian term psdt “group of nine.” The Egyptians understood this term figuratively as well as literally. When the gods of the Ennead are named, they occasionally amount to more than nine gods. This is apparently because the Ennead itself represents the sum of all the elements and forces of the created world. In early religious texts, the word psdt “Ennead” is written : it has been suggested that the term was seen not just as nine gods × 9) but also as a “plural of plurals” × 3), or an infinite number.

The Ennead was worshipped especially in Heliopolis, often in the form of jtmw ḥn psdt.f “Atum and his Ennead.” The “tenth god” implicit in this phrase is Horus ḥrw), the son of Isis and Osiris. Horus was the power of kingship. To the Egyptians this was as much a force of nature as those embodied in the other gods. It was manifest in two phenomena: the sun, the most powerful force in nature; and the pharaoh, the most powerful force in human society. Horus’s role as the king of nature is probably the origin of his name: ḥrw seems to mean “the one above” or “the one far off ” and is occasionally written , like the verb ḥr(j) “be far off.” This is apparently a reference to the sun, which is “above” and “far off ” in the sky, like the falcon with which Horus is regularly associated (and with which his name is usually written).

The birth of the sun is actually the culmination of creation in the Heliopolitan system, as it is in the early myth of the primeval mound (see Essay 11). The sun’s first rising into the newly created world-space marks the end of creation and the beginning of the eternal cycle of life, which the sun regulates (as king of nature) and makes possible through his heat and light. The Heliopolitan accounts therefore concentrate not only on Atum’s “evolution” but also on the sun’s role in the creation. As an element of nature, the sun is known simply as r “Sun” (usually transcribed “Re” or “Ra”). As the newly-risen sun, he is often called ḫpr(j) “Khepri” (literally, “Evolver”); the beetle used to write this name is the source of the common depiction of the sun-god as a scarab. The sun at dawn is also known as ḥrw-ḫtj “Harakhti” (literally, “Horus of the Akhet”) or, combined with Re, as “Re-Harakhti” (sometimes written .³ Since the sun is the culmination of Atum’s “evolution” into the world, the two gods are occasionally combined in the form r-(j)tm(w) “Re-Atum.” Atum himself was often worshipped as the setting sun, apparently through association of his great age (as “oldest” of the gods) with the “old age” of the sun at this point in its daily cycle.

The Heliopolitan account of creation explained not only the origin of the world’s structure, elements, and forces but also how its diversity evolved from a single source. Atum’s generation of Shu and Tefnut are described as “when he was one and evolved into three” (CT II, 39e). The Ennead itself is a metaphor of both physical relationship and dependency. Atum’s “giving birth” to his “children” is a way of explaining how the elements of nature come from a single physical source, just as children derive their substance from their parents. The Ennead’s generational scheme reflects the logical dependency of its parts: the creation of a void in the waters (Shu and Tefnut) produces a “bottom” and “top” (Geb and Nut, the children of Shu and Tefnut), and the void in turn makes possible the forces of life (Osiris and Isis, Seth and Nephthys, the children of Geb and Nut).

Although it is explained in generational terms, the Heliopolitan view of the creation is therefore less a “step-by-step” account than a kind of Egyptian “Big Bang” theory, in which all of creation happened at once, in the moment when Atum evolved into the world and time itself began. One Middle Kingdom text actually reflects this view of creation when it describes Shu as “the one whom Atum created on the day that he evolved” (CT II, 3d–e).

EXERCISE 12

For each of the following verbs, identify the root class.

1. ḫ become useful

2. jp allot, assign

3. jnj get, use

4. jrj do, make

5. nḫ live

6. ḥ fight

7. ḥ stand up

8. wḥ lay, keep, last

9. wnn exist

10. wḥm repeat

11. wdfj be late, delay, dawdle

12. wd command

13. prj go out, go up

14. pḥrr run

15. psdj shine

16. ptpt trample

17. fj carry

18. m see⁴

19. mwt die

20. mdwj speak, talk

21. njtjt stammer

22. nḥm take away

23. rwj go away

24. hj go down

25. hb send

26. ḥwj hit⁵

27. ḥmsj sit down

28. ḥtp become calm,

29. ḫj appear content

30. ḫpr evolve, happen

31. ḫr fall

32. ḫdj go downstream/north

33. sḫ make useful

34. sḥ erect

35. sq make enter, bring in

36. spdd prepare (not caus.)

37. sfḫḫ loosen

38. smn set, fix

39. smnḫ make functional

40. sn smell, kiss

41. sndm sweeten

42. srwj remove

43. shj bring down

44. sḥtp calm, pacify

45. sḫpr bring about

46. sḫr fell, overthrow

47. šmsj follow

48. qd build

49. qdd sleep

50. gmj find

51. gmgm smash, crack

52. dr remove, repulse

53. dj cross

54. dd say, speak

1 When the final radical is shown, it is usually because there was another vowel following the radical *i. For example, the verb form *piriá (also reconstructed from Coptic) is usually written pr because hieroglyphic did not write the vowels. It could be written prj, however, if the scribe wanted to show that there was more than one vowel at the end (see § 2.4): i.e., *piri’á. The writing pry probably shows that the scribe heard a y sound between the two vowels: *piriyá.

2 Note that these are not the same as the terms “imperfect” and “perfect.”

3 ḫtj is a nisbe from ḫt “the Akhet” (see Essay 2). In the writing , ḫtj has been reinterpreted as a dual (“Horus of the Two Akhets”).

4 is a determinative, arranged this way to make a compact group.

5 The determinative is often shown “hitting” the .

13.THE INFINITIVAL FORMS

13.1Definitions

When they are used in actual phrases, clauses, or sentences, verbs must appear in a particular form, just as nouns must be singular, plural, or dual, and adjectives must be singular or plural and masculine or feminine. In both Egyptian and English, verb forms are of two different kinds. Most verb forms are finite: that is, they indicate an action that is limited to a particular tense, aspect, mood, or voice (or combination of these features). In the English sentence Jack was being summoned, for example, the verb form was being summoned is past (tense), imperfect (aspect), indicative (mood), and passive (voice). Middle Egyptian also has finite verb forms, as we will see in subsequent lessons.

Verb forms that describe action just as action, without being limited to a specific tense, mood, aspect, or voice, are called non-finite or infinitival. They belong to a special class of words, known as verbal nouns In English, two such forms are the infinitive (for example, to learn) and the gerund (for example, learning). English also has verbal nouns such as involvement (the action of being involved), condescension (the action of being condescending), and taxation (the action of taxing), which are made from the verb root plus different suffixes, and words such as fear, love, and hate (the actions of fearing, loving, and hating), which are made just from the verb root itself.

Middle Egyptian has four verbal noun forms: the root (e.g., ḥtp, from the verb ḥtp “become content”), the root plus t (ḥtpt), the root plus w or y (ḥtpw, ḥtpy), and the root plus wt or yt (ḥtpwt, ḥtpyt). We don’t always know the difference in meaning between these various forms: all of the ones just cited, for example, mean something like “contentment.” Egyptologists, however, have distinguished three kinds of infinitival forms by how they are used. These are called the infinitive, complementary infinitive, and negatival complement.

THE INFINITIVE

13.2Definition

The infinitive in English has a special form that distinguishes it from other verbal nouns, consisting of the preposition to plus the verb root (as in to involve, to condescend, to fear, and so forth). It is often interchangeable with the gerund (involving, condescending, fearing) but not always: for example, Jill likes to play the piano and Jill likes playing the piano; Jill wants to play the piano but not *Jill wants playing the piano.

The infinitive in Egyptian often corresponds to the English infinitive, but in other cases it is best translated by an English gerund or even another verbal noun. Unlike the infinitive in English, the Middle Egyptian infinitive is not a distinct verb form but two of the forms of verbal nouns. What distinguishes the infinitive in Egyptian is the way it is used in a sentence. In the following sections we will look first at the usual forms of the infinitive (which Egyptologists have determined by examining its different uses) and then at the various ways in which it is used.

13.3The forms of the infinitive

The Middle Egyptian infinitive has either the base stem and no ending or the base stem plus an ending –t. These two forms are complementary: some verbs use the form without an ending and others the form ending in –t. The choice of form depends on the verb class (§ 12.5) or, in some cases, the kind of verb. The forms of the infinitive in the various verb classes are as follows.

1)Regular forms

2-lit. | dd (Ptahhotep 529) “to say, saying”
2ae-gem. | m (Ptahhotep 530) “to see, seeing”
3-lit. | nḥm (Peas. B1, 42) “to take away, taking away”
3ae-inf. | jrt (Sin. B 117) “to do, doing”
3ae-gem. | pḥrr (Kahl, FäWb, 156) “to run, running”
4-lit. | gmgm (ShS. 59) “to crack, cracking”
4ae-inf. | geminating verbs: bg (Heqanakht I, 14) “to be lax, being lax” non-geminating verbs: ḥmst (Westc. 3, 8) “to sit, sitting”
5-lit. | ḥbb (Westc. 8, 24) “to waddle, waddling”
caus. 2-lit. | smnt (CT I, 140c) “to set, setting”
caus. 2ae-gem. | sqbb (Ebers 75, 2) “to cool, cooling”
caus. 3-lit. | sḥtp (CT II, 318c) “to content, contenting”
caus. 3ae-inf. | sḫt (Sethe, Lesestücke, 75, 11) “to make appear, making appear”
caus. 4-lit. | sḫdḫd (CT III, 130a) “to invert, inverting”
caus. 4ae-inf. | smwj (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 11)
anom. | (CT I, 154g) rdjt, rarely (CG 20057b/c/d) or (CT III, 68f) djt “to give/put, giving/putting”
| jt (Beni Hasan I, pl. 30), jjt (ShS. 62); (Sin. B 248), jwt (Westc. 8, 4) “to come, coming.”

Based on this chart, the general rule for forming the infinitive can be stated as follows: verbs with final-weak roots form their infinitive with the base stem plus –t (3ae-inf., 4ae-inf., caus. 3ae-inf., and anom. verbs), and the other classes have an infinitive that looks like the root. The exceptions to this rule are 4ae-inf. verbs that can have a geminated stem (§ 12.5.7), which behave like strong verbs (base stem with no ending); and caus. 2-lit. verbs, which behave like weak verbs (base stem plus –t). The anomalous verbs can use either of their stems in the infinitive: the verb jjj “come” has either jjt or jwt; the verb rdj “give” normally uses the base stem with r (rdjt). Note that the ending –t is usually written before any determinative.

2)Special forms

There are three exceptions to the general paradigm of the infinitive, all of which have to do with phonology (how the words sounded) rather than morphology (how the infinitive was formed).

a) Like the feminine ending, the ending –t of the infinitive was eventually lost in pronunciation (see § 2.8.4). Sometimes, therefore, an infinitive that ought to end in –t is written without this ending. This is more common for caus. 3ae-inf. verbs than it is for other classes that use this form: for example, smsj (Westc. 10, 5) “to cause to give birth” (from 3ae-inf. msj; the “dual strokes” in this form shows that the word ended in a vowel). But it is occasionally found with other classes as well: for instance, 3ae-inf. ḥzj (Westc. 12, 1) “to sing” and caus. 2-lit. smn (Helck, HBT, 109) “to fix.”

b) Verbs of the 2ae-gem. class usually have all three radicals in the infinitive, but when the infinitive has a pronominal suffix only one radical is normally shown instead: for instance, wnn “to exist, existing,” but wn.f (CT II, 344b) “his existing.” This variation between the two stems is due to the rule noted in § 2.8.2: i.e., wnn = *wVnVn vs. wn.f = *wVnnVf.

c) The 2ae-gem. verb m “see” also varies between three- and two-radical forms in the infinitive, like other verbs of the class: m (*mVV) vs. m.f (*mVVf ). Unlike other 2ae-gem. verbs, however, m sometimes uses the base form m) in the infinitive even without a suffix. This is probably because the final of the geminated stem was not actually pronounced as a consonant, and was therefore omitted in writing (see § 2.8.3): i.e., m = *mVV. The infinitive of m sometimes also has a final n before a pronominal suffix: mn.f “to see him.” This n appears for the same reason that other Egyptian words sometimes vary between spellings with and n (see § 2.8.3). It is nothing more than a variant spelling of whatever consonant is actually represented by (see § 2.4): thus, m.f and mn.f both probably represent the spoken form *mVVf. These various forms of the infinitive of m can be summarized as follows:

with no suffix pronoun: | *mVV | spelled , rarely
with a suffix pronoun: | *mVV– | spelled or .

13.4The subject of the infinitive

Like most other verb forms, the infinitive can have a subject, which is either a noun (or noun phrase) or a pronoun. In Middle Egyptian the subject of the infinitive can be expressed in two ways, each of which has a similar counterpart in English:

1)as an agent. When the subject is a noun or demonstrative pronoun, it is introduced by the preposition jn “by” (§ 8.2.2): for example,

nt m ḫd jn ḥm.f (Urk. IV, 9, 3)

sailing downstream by His Incarnation.¹

When the agent is a personal pronoun, the independent form of the pronoun is used, without the preposition jn (which is not used with personal pronouns): for instance,

prt ntsn m s ḥm-k.f (Siut I, 307)

emerging by them behind his ka-priest.

The independent pronoun here is actually the abbreviated form of the statement of adherence with n(j) plus independent pronoun (§ 7.8), as can be seen from an example with the first-person singular form:

rwd nnk ḥr jb.f (Gardiner, EG, p. 309)

being firm by me in his opinion,

literally, “being-firm adhering-to-me on his heart.” Examples with a pronominal agent are not very common.

2)by the direct genitive (for nouns or demonstrative pronouns) or a suffix pronoun (for personal pronouns): for instance,

prt sm (Beni Hasan I, pl. 24, 3) “the sem-priest’s emerging” and

prt.s (Kêmi 3, 61) “its emerging.”

This construction is normal for intransitive verbs (such as prj “emerge”) but it can also be used for transitive verbs (see next). In rare cases the indirect genitive (§ 4.13.2) is used instead.

13.5The object of the infinitive

The infinitive of transitive verbs can have an object as well as a subject: that is, a noun (or noun phrase) or pronoun indicating the person or thing on whom the action of the infinitive is performed. Like the infinitive’s subject, its object can be expressed in two ways in Middle Egyptian:

1)by the direct genitive (for nouns or demonstrative pronouns) or a suffix pronoun (for personal pronouns). This construction is used when the subject of the infinitive either is not expressed or is expressed as an agent: for example,

z()t mw jn wt (Siut I, 126)

pouring water by the mortuary priest

gmt.f jn ḥm.f (Urk. IV, 6, 2)

finding him by His Incarnation.

In each of these examples, the object is actually the possessor of the infinitive; English can use a similar possessive construction with its gerund: “the pouring of water by the mortuary priest” and “the finding of him by His Incarnation.”

2)as a true object, by a noun, demonstrative pronoun, or dependent pronoun. This construction is used when the infinitive’s subject is also expressed: for example,

jrt jst jkb (CT IV, 336d T1Be)

Isis’s making mourning

tzt.j jb.j (Sin. B 23)

my lifting up my heart

rdjt.f wj m ḥt hrdw.f (Sin. B 107–108)

his placing me in front of his children.

The dependent pronoun st (§ 5.4) is also used as object of the infinitive, even when the subject of the infinitive is not expressed or is expressed as an agent, if the pronoun refers to things rather than people or to more than one person or thing: for instance,

rdjt st ḥr mrḥt (Ebers 59, 7–8)

adding it to oil (literally, “putting it upon oil”).

Here the pronoun refers to msdmt “galena” (a mineral), so st is used instead of the 3fs suffix-pronoun—i.e., instead of *rdjt.s ḥr mrḥt, which we might otherwise expect according to the rule described in § 13.5.1.

13.6Word order

The first three examples in § 13.5.2 demonstrate the basic rule of word-order in Middle Egyptian verbal clauses: the verb comes first, followed by the subject and object. Grammarians call this a VSO word-order (Verb-Subject-Object); by contrast, English has an SVO word-order (as you can see from the translations).

Although the subject normally comes before the object, pronouns also come before nouns. The basic pattern of Middle Egyptian verbal clauses is therefore actually VsoSO, where the small letters refer to pronouns and the capital letters to nouns. In this pattern the subject still comes before the object except when the subject is nominal and the object is pronominal: here the VsoSO rule requires the object to come before the subject (VoS): for instance,

rdjt sw r (Pyr. 1808a)

the Sun’s showing himself (literally, “the Sun giving himself ”),

where r “the Sun” is the nominal subject and sw “him(self)” is the pronominal object.

Other elements, such as prepositional phrases and adverbs, normally follow the subject and object (as with m ḥt hrdw.f in the third example of § 14.5.2). The only exception to this order is the dative n with a suffix pronoun (d); this normally comes before everything except a pronominal subject (see § 10.7): for example,

rdjt n.f t-ḥd (Siut I, 290) “giving him white-bread”

jrt n.f st (Urk. IV, 367, 8) “to do it for him”

rdjt.k n.j (n)syt.k (Urk. IV, 271, 9) “your giving me your kingship.”

When the preposition n is followed by a noun, however, it comes after the subject and object, like other adjuncts (A: prepositional phrases and adverbs): for instance,

rdjt mntw twj n jtj (Gardiner, EG, § 301)

Montu’s giving the Two Lands to the sire.

The full word-order of a Middle Egyptian verbal clause is thus VsdoSOA. The order may seem complicated, but it is actually quite logical. A pronominal subject (s) always comes first because suffix pronouns are actually part of the word they are attached to (§ 5.3). Pronominal datives (d) and objects (o) are separate words, but they were probably pronounced together with the verb, without a separate stress of their own. In this case, Egyptian was probably much like English. Thus, the clause rdjt n.f t-ḥd probably had only two stresses (one on rdjt-n.f and the second on t-ḥd), just as in the English translation (“GIVing-him WHITE-bread”); similarly, rdjt.k n.j (n)syt.k probably had one stress on rdjt.k-n.j and a second on (n)syt.k (as in the English translation “your-GIVing-me your-KINGship”), while jrt n.f st probably had only one (as in its English translation “to DO it for him”). Nominal subjects, objects, and datives, on the other hand, tend to be stressed separately: rdjt mntw twj n jtj “MONtu’s GIVing the-Two-LANDS to-the-SIRE.”

It is important to memorize the normal VsdoSOA word-order (think of “Very small dogs often Sniff Other Animals”). Although there are occasional exceptions to this order, they are rare. In Egyptian, as in English, the order of the words is sometimes the only thing that tells you what is the subject and the object in a verbal clause.

13.7Voice

The different constructions that Egyptian uses to express the subject and object of an infinitive seem quite complicated at first sight, but they are actually no more so than the various constructions that English uses for the same purpose. A noun introduced by jn, or an independent pronoun, is always the agent of the infinitive, while a dependent pronoun is always the object of the infinitive (§ 14.5.2).

When the infinitive of a transitive verb is followed by a noun or suffix pronoun, however, the noun or pronoun can represent either the infinitive’s subject or its object: thus, rdjt mntw (by itself) could mean either “Montu’s giving” (subject) or “giving Montu” (object), and gmt.f (by itself) could be either “his finding” (subject) or “finding him” (object). This ambiguity exists in the genitival relationship itself, and not only in Egyptian but in the English genitive as well. An English phrase such as the assembling of an army, for example, can refer both to an act of assembling performed by an army as the subject or an act of assembling in which an army is the object. In the same way, an Egyptian phrase such as rdjt mntw “the giving of Montu” could refer to the god Montu as subject or object. In both languages, only the context in which the phrase is used indicates which meaning is actually meant—although sometimes only one of the two meanings is likely: for example, zt mw “the pouring of water” probably refers to water as the thing that is poured (object), not the pourer (subject).

English can get around this ambiguity by using a passive gerund or infinitive, as in the army’s being assembled or for the army to be assembled. In Egyptian, however, the infinitive is always active: there is no passive infinitive. This is true even though good English sometimes requires a passive translation of the Egyptian infinitive, as we will see in some of the following sections.

13.8The infinitive as a noun

As we noted in § 13.2, the infinitive is actually a verbal noun: that is, a noun that describes the action of a verb. Because it is a noun, it can be used in most of the same ways that other nouns are used. We have already seen that the infinitive can be the first noun of a direct genitive and can have a suffix pronoun. Like other nouns, it can also be modified by an adjective or an indirect genitive: for example,

p ḫnt(j) nfr n p ḥq() (Helck, HBT, 96)

the good upstream sailing of the ruler.²

Unlike other nouns, however, the infinitive cannot be made plural and it is always masculine, even when it has the ending –t:

p jrt bjnw (Heqanakht I, vo. 16) “this doing badness.”

Forms that do not conform to this rule are not the infinitive but other verbal nouns, even though they may look like the infinitive: for instance, prt.f dpt (CG 20057 d 1–2) “his first emergence.” In many cases such apparent infinitives actually have a different form than the infinitive, with a weak consonant that is not written: thus, the verbal noun ḥw “stance” can be written like the 3-lit. infinitive ḥ “to stand up,” and the verbal noun “love” can be written like the 3ae-inf. infinitive mrt “to love.”

13.9The infinitive in headings

Like English, Egyptian uses its infinitive in many different ways. We will examine all but one of these uses in the following sections; the remaining one is the subject of the next lesson.

The infinitive is often found in headings, such as the hieroglyphic labels to carved or painted scenes and the titles of texts: for example,

m kt m jz (DeG I, pl. 13)

Seeing the work on the tomb

(label of a scene showing the tomb-owner watching this activity)

prt m hrw (CT IV, 174a)

Coming forth in the daytime (title of a funerary spell)

srwḫ nwt nt sḥw dbw (Hearst med. 12, 13)

Treating the nails of the toes and fingers (title of a section in a medical papyrus).

The most common heading, found in religious and magical texts, is (usually abbreviated dd-mdw “recitation”—literally, “saying words.” This normally introduces the text proper, after any other headings, or the speech of the participants in a ceremony or scene. When such texts are written in vertical columns, sometimes stands at the head of each column as well; in this case the heading serves as a kind of “quotation mark,” and is not meant to be read.

13.10The infinitive as part of a genitive

Like other nouns, the infinitive can serve as the second noun of a genitive, sometimes direct but usually indirect: for instance,

hrw pf n ḥ rḥwj (CT IV, 232b M4C)

that day of the two companions’ fighting

r n wn sb() n b (CT III, 327a)

Spell (literally, “mouth”) of opening a gate to the ba

phrt nt sm ḥf()t (Ebers 68, 8)

Prescription for (literally, “of ”) killing a snake.

When the first noun of the indirect genitive is undefined, the genitival phrase is often best translated as a relative clause with a passive verb: for example,

z(j) jqr n wb n.f jb (Bersheh II, pl. 21, 4–5)

an excellent man who can be confided in

jty n bb m rn.f (Hamm. 12, 3)

a sire whose name can be boasted of.

These mean literally, “an excellent man of opening the heart to him” and “a sire of boasting about his name.”

13.11The infinitive as object of a preposition

Since it is a noun, the infinitive can be used as the object of a preposition, like other nouns. Some examples of this use have special meanings.

1)After ḥr “upon”

The preposition ḥr followed by the infinitive sometimes has the meaning “because of ” an action or “from” an action (see § 8.2.10), as in ḥr sts.j r m(w)t (Leb. 12) “because of dragging me toward death” and jt ḥm.j ḥr dr rtnw (Urk. IV, 745, 12) “the return of My Incarnation from repelling Retjenu.” Most often, however, the combination of ḥr plus an infinitive expresses concomitant action: that is, action that goes on at the same time as that of a preceding clause. In this use, the prepositional phrase is usually best translated in English by an “…ing” form of the verb, with or without an introductory word such as “when” or “while”: for example,

dbn.n.j fy.j ḥr nhm (Sin. B 201)

I went around my camp yelling

gm.n.f sw ḥr prt m sb (Peas. B1, 65–66)

He found him emerging from the gate.

Here the prepositional phrases ḥr nhm (literally, “upon yelling”) and ḥr prt m sb (literally, “upon emerging from the gate”) describe an action that is concomitant with that of the past-tense actions dbn.n.j fy.j “I went around my camp” and gm.n.f sw “he found him.”

2)After m “in”

A prepositional phrase with the preposition m and the infinitive is also used to describe concomitant action: for instance,

gm.n.f sw m prt m sb (Peas. R 12, 6–7)

He found him emerging from the gate—

literally, “he found him in (the act of) emerging from the gate.” The infinitive is less common after m than after ḥr. More often, m is used with a verbal noun (which can look like the infinitive): for example, m ḫd “going downstream, north” (the infinitive of 3ae-inf. ḫdj is ḫdt), m ḫntyt “going upstream, south” (the infinitive of 4ae-inf. ḫntj is ḫntj), and m wḥm “again” (literally, “in repeating”).

3)After r “to”

The combination of the preposition r plus infinitive is normally used to describe purpose. It is regularly translated with the English infinitive, sometimes preceded by “in order”: for example,

ḫnt.k(w) r jnt b(j)w n nbw (BH I, pl. 8, 11)

I sailed upstream to (or “in order to”) get gold ore.

This construction is very common in Middle Egyptian. It almost always indicates purpose, except in the expression r dd, which can mean “saying” (used to introduce a direct quotation) as well as “in order to say.”

4)After other prepositions

The meaning of other combinations of a preposition plus the infinitive is fairly straightforward: for instance,

dd mdw ḫft swrj phrt (Ebers 2, 6)

Words to be said while drinking the prescription.³

This is also true of the infinitive plus a compound preposition, as in m ḫt jt (Urk. IV, 745, 12) “after returning” (literally, “in the wake of returning”).

13.12The infinitive as object of a verb

Like other nouns, the infinitive can be used as the object of a transitive verb. This use is most often found after the following kinds of verbs:

desire and emotion, such as bj “desire,” mrj “want,” snd “fear”

perception and cognition, such as m “see,” rḫ “know (how), learn (how),” ḫmt “think,”⁴ sḫ “remember,” kj “plan”

speech and assignment, such as wd “command,” šj “determine,” rdj “cause, make, have, let” (literally, “give”), dd “intend, think” (literally, “say”)

starting and stopping, such as b “stop,” wḥm “repeat, do again,” š “start, begin.”

Most of these uses have similar counterparts in English: for example, want to do, know how to do, remember to do, command (someone) to do (something), stop doing. Examples in Egyptian are usually similar to English constructions: for example,

b.n ḥm.j jrt mnw n (j)t(j).j jmn-r (Urk. IV, 834, 1)

My Incarnation has desired to make a monument for my father Amun-Re

k.n.f ḥq mnmn.j (Sin. B 112)

He planned to plunder my herd

wd.n.j n.k jrt st (Urk. IV, 618, 16)

I have commanded you to do it

wḥm.n.j m nḫtw.f (Urk. IV, 893, 5)

I saw again (literally, “I repeated seeing”) his victories.

13.13The infinitive in non-verbal sentences

Like other nouns, the infinitive can be used as the subject of a non-verbal predicate, or as the predicate in a nominal sentence: for example,

m.k nfr sdm n r(m)t (ShS. 182)

Look, to listen is good for people

nn n.s prt m jmnt (Leb. 77)

Emerging from the West is not for her

jr pšn dnnt.f jwd pqt pw r pqt nt dnnt.f (Smith 2, 8–9)

As for his skull splitting apart, it is the parting of one plate of his skull from another.

In the first of these examples, the infinitive sdm “to listen” is subject of the adjectival predicate nfr “good”; in the second, the infinitive phrase prt m jmnt “emerging from the West” is subject of the adverbial predicate n.s “for her” (see § 11.9.3). The third example comes from a medical papyrus: it describes what is meant by the skull of a patient “splitting apart” (pšn is also an infinitive, object of the preposition jr “as for”: see § 8.2.7). This is explained (literally) with the words “it is the parting of a plate with respect to a plate of his skull.” Here the infinitive phrase jwd pqt “the parting of a plate” is the predicate of an A pw nominal sentence, with the prepositional phrase r pqt nt dnnt.f “from a plate of his skull” added. This kind of construction is common in explanations.

13.14The infinitive in narration

Narration (describing past events) normally involves finite verb forms, but Middle Egyptian sometimes uses the infinitive for this purpose as well. Three such infinitival constructions are found in Middle Egyptian texts.

1)In headings

The beginning of a narration, or the beginning of major divisions within a narration, can use the infinitive to “set the scene” for the narration that follows. This use is especially common after dates: for example,

rnpt-ḥsb 2 ḫr ḥm n … nswt-bjt Ḫ-SḪM-R z r NFR-ḤTP … ḫt ḥm.f ḥr jst ḥrw (Helck, HBT, 21)

Year 2 during the incarnation of … Dual King Khasekhemre, Sun’s Son Neferhotep … His Incarnation’s appearing on Horus’s throne.

This example comes from a stela of the 13th-Dynasty king Neferhotep I, which describes the king’s appearance (infinitive ḫt) in formal audience to issue a decree for the temple of Osiris at Abydos. This construction is similar to the use of the infinitive in other headings (§ 13.9).

2)The “narrative” infinitive

Some Middle Egyptian stories use the infinitive instead of a normal finite verb form within the body of a narration. In this use it is often translated by a past tense in English, but it actually should be translated more accurately by an English gerund: for example,

rdjt.j wt n rd(w)y.j m ḫd (Sin. B 15–16)

My giving a path to my feet northward.

This is a stylistic device adopted from travel diaries, where the infinitive is used as the heading of each day’s events (as we still do with the gerund in English: for example, Tuesday, March 14: Visiting the British Museum). It is used to give the flavor of a travel diary to the narrative. Most often it occurs after major breaks in the narrative, at places where a modern novel might begin a new section or chapter. In that sense this use of the infinitive is comparable to the one described in the preceding paragraph.

3)The sdm pw jr.n.f and sdm pw jry constructions

The infinitive is also commonly used in narration in a special construction that Egyptologists call the sdm pw jr.n.f construction. This is an A pw B nominal sentence in which A is an infinitive (such as sdm “to hear”) or infinitive phrase and B is the verb form jr.n plus a noun or suffix pronoun as subject: for example, jr.n.f, meaning “what he did.”⁵ The construction sdm pw jr.n.f means “what he did was to hear.” It is often used in narration in much the same way that its translation is used in English narratives: for example,

ḥ pw jr.n.f r wšd.f (Westc. 7, 14)

What he did was to stand up in order to address him.⁶

The sdm pw jr.n.f construction also has a passive form, in which the verb form jr.n.f is replaced by the passive participle jry, meaning “what was done”: for instance,

jwt pw jry r bk jm (Sin. B 236)

What was done was to come for yours truly.

Like the narrative infinitive, the sdm pw jr.n.f construction and its passive counterpart sdm pw jry (which is much rarer) seem to occur after breaks in the narration—mostly at places where the translation might begin a new paragraph.

13.15The infinitive after nn

The infinitive can be used like other nouns in the negation of existence, after the negative particle nn (§ 11.4). This expresses an action whose existence is denied and is most often best translated by “without” plus an English gerund: for example,

mn m wd dp t nn skt dt dt (Urk. IV, 147, 2–3)

to remain in soundness on earth, without the body’s expiring forever.

Here the infinitive mn “to remain” describes an action and nn skt dt, with the infinitive of skj “expire” and a nominal subject, indicates how that action is carried out.

THE NEGATIVE INFINITIVE AND THE NEGATIVAL COMPLEMENT

13.16Definition

In the negative construction discussed in the preceding section, the infinitive itself is not negative: instead, it describes an affirmative action (“the body’s expiring”) whose existence is negated by nn. English can negate the infinitive, or the gerund, itself: for instance, the body’s not expiring and for the body not to expire. In Egyptian the infinitive is made negative by using the infinitive of the 2-lit. verb tm “finish, fail, not be, not do” followed by a verbal noun known as the negatival complement: for example,

tm m(w)t m wḥm (CT III, 396g)

Not dying again (or “To not die again”).⁷

In this construction the negation is expressed by the infinitive tm “not, to not” and the verb itself by the negatival complement that follows it: here m(w)t “dying, die.”

13.17The form of the negatival complement

The negatival complement of all verbs except those with geminated roots is a verbal noun with the base stem plus an ending –w, which is often not written; the negatival complement of verbs with geminated roots uses the root without an ending:

2-lit. | mḥ (Ptahhotep 53) “fill,” dw (Kagemni 1,9) “be eager”
2ae-gem. | m (Adm. 8, 1) “see”
3-lit. | wšb (Ptahhotep 476) “answer,” tww (Ptahhotep 164) “beseech”
3ae-inf. | jt (Ptahhotep 608) and jtw (Ptahhotep 474) “take”
4ae-inf. | mdw (Ptahhotep 126) and mdww (Kagemni 1,2) “speak” (the root is mdwj); also with the final weak radical as y: for example, bgyw (Ebers 86, 13) “be weary”
5-lit. | nḫrḫrw (CT VII, 61c) “be downcast”
caus. 2-lit. | srw (CT V, 330h) “cause to ascend”
caus. 3-lit. | sḫpr (BD 27 Nu) “bring about”
anom. | rdj (Ptahhotep 596) “give, put”; jw (Ptahhotep 479) “come.”

It is not really necessary to memorize these forms, because the negatival complement can be recognized by how it is used: always after a form of the verb tm or the negative verb jmj (§ 12.7). We will see more examples of this in future lessons.

13.18Syntax of the negative infinitive

The negative infinitive can be used in most of the ways that the affirmative infinitive is used. It can also have the same kinds of subject and object as the affirmative form: for example,

tm m(w)t m hr(j)-ntr jn zj (CT V, 8b)

Not dying in the necropolis by a man (compare §§ 13.4.1, 13.9)⁸

r tm sš mdwt (Urk. IV, 693, 13)

in order to not multiply⁹ words (compare § 13.11.3).

The subject and object follow the negatival complement, as these examples show. When the subject is a suffix pronoun, however, it is attached to the infinitive tm, not to the negatival complement: tm.f wn r.f pw (Smith 4, 2–3) “It is his not opening his mouth” (see § 13.13).

The negative infinitive is always active, like the affirmative; this is also true of the negatival complement. In some cases, however, English requires translation by a passive verb form, as in the following example (title of a funerary spell):

tm wn(m) zj jn ḥfw m hr(j)-ntr (CT V, 38a)

A man’s not being eaten by a snake in the necropolis,

or, more literally, “the not eating of a man by a snake in the necropolis” (see § 13.7).

THE COMPLEMENTARY INFINITIVE

13.19Definition

Egyptian has a special construction in which a verbal noun is used as an adverbial complement after another form of the same verb: for example,

wbn.k wbnt ḫpr.k ḫprt (CT III, 334a)

You rise rising, you evolve evolving.¹⁰

Egyptologists call the verbal noun in this use the complementary infinitive. It is quite rare in Middle Egyptian and occurs almost exclusively in older religious texts.

13.20The form of the complementary infinitive

The complementary infinitive is always the verbal noun with the ending –t, as in the examples above. This ending is attached to the base stem of most verbs, and to the root of 2ae-gem. verbs. For final-weak verbs the ending seems to have been originally –wt, later -yt, attached to the base stem, but the weak consonants w and y are usually omitted in writing.

There are very few examples of the complementary infinitive in Middle Egyptian texts. The following are typical forms, primarily from older religious texts:

2-lit. | rdt (CT IV, 181q) “growing”
2ae-gem. | wnnt (CT IV, 180f) “existing,” hnt (Westc. 5,4) “rowing”
3-lit. | wbnt (CT III, 334a) “rising”
3ae-inf. | mst, msyt (CT I 344–45c) “being born”
5-lit. | ḥnmnmyt (CT IV, 181p) “crawling.”

The complementary infinitive can always be recognized by its ending and by the fact that it is only used after a form of the same verb.

ESSAY 13. THE CREATIVE WORD

The Heliopolitan creation accounts are concerned primarily with the physical evolution of Atum into the forces and elements of the world. Occasionally, however, the texts deal with the relationship between the physical aspect of creation and the intellectual component of the creator’s will. In one text, for example, Atum says of himself:

I made my body evolve through my effectiveness.

I am the one who made me.

I built myself as I wanted, according to my heart (CT VI, 344b–d).

To the ancient Egyptians, the heart (jb) was the seat of thought as well as emotion (see Essay 7). When Atum says “I built myself as I wanted, according to my heart,” this implies that his physical evolution was the result of his initial concept of what the world would be like.

The link between the creator’s idea of the world and its actual creation lies in the first sentence of this text: “I made my body evolve through my effectiveness.” The term ḫw “effectiveness” is an abstract noun related to the adjective ḫ “effective.” This quality is often associated with intellectual activity or speech: an Egyptian official might say, for example, jnk jqr sḫr ḫ n njwt.f (Siut III, 4) “I am one excellent of advice, effective for his town,” or he might describe himself as ḫ dd ḥr jb n nb.f (CG 20539 IIb, 5) “effective of speech on the heart of his lord” (i.e., in his lord’s opinion).

The quality of “effectiveness” is also closely related to the concept of ḥk “magic” (often plural ḥkw “magic spells, magic acts”). In ancient Egypt, “magic” meant essentially the ability to make things happen by indirect means. It was seen as a natural phenomenon, and like other such phenomena was also viewed as a god. Magic could involve physical means, such as the use of amulets or images to ward off evil, but most often it was associated with the power of creative speech: that is, speech that is “effective” enough to cause a desired result. The expressions “recite by magic” (šdj m ḥkw) and “speak with effectiveness” (dd m ḫw) are often used together, as different ways of saying the same thing.

Ordinary people could make use of this force: in one text the creator describes how he made magic for people “as weapons to be a barrier against what might happen” (Merikare 12, 6–7). But magic is most often associated with the king and the gods. In this respect it has two components, which the Egyptians called sj “perception” and ḥw “annunciation.” Perception is the ability to see what needs to be done, and annunciation is the power to make it happen through speech. The king’s courtiers say to him, for example, “Annunciation is in your mouth, perception is in your heart: your speech is the shrine of Maat” (KRI II, 356, 9–11).

Just as the human king rules through the “effective” use of perception and annunciation, the sun rules the universe through the same forces. Images of the solar bark often show the sun accompanied by the gods Sia (Perception), Hu (Annunciation), and Heka (Magic) (Fig. 11). Such images reflect not only the sun’s daily rule but also his daily recreation of the world at sunrise (see Essay 9). And this in turn recalls the first act of creation, when the creator used the same forces to create the world at the first sunrise: he “perceived” the world in his heart and brought it about by “announcing” his perception. The creation accounts often make reference to this process, when they have the creator say, for example, “I surveyed in my own heart,” “I used my own mouth” (Bremner-Rhind 26, 24; 28, 22), and “I am the one who made what is, who caused what was not to evolve: when I spoke, Annunciation came into being” (CT IV, 145b–c).

Fig. 11. Sia and Heka accompanying the Sun (from the tomb of Haremhab; author’s photo)

This understanding of the creation as an act of perception and speech is quite similar to the one that underlies the story of creation in the Bible: “God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light [annunciation]. God saw the light, that it was good [perception]” (Gen. 1:3–4). In the Egyptian view, the creation of the world was an act of “magic.” In fact, the creation of magic was seen as the first step in the creation itself. In one text the god Magic says: “I am the one whom the Sole Lord made before two things had evolved in this world … when something came from his mouth … when he took Annunciation in his mouth” (CT III, 382e–384c).

Although Perception, Annunciation, and Magic were gods in their own right, the power of creative speech was also associated with the god Ptah ptḥ), the patron deity of Memphis. This relationship was common in the New Kingdom, but it also appears in an early Middle Kingdom text, where Ptah says of himself in relation to the creator jnk ḥw dp(j) r.f sj jmj ht.f (CT VI, 268o) “I am Annunciation, who is at his mouth, and Perception, who is in his belly.” The reasons for this association will be discussed in the next Essay.

EXERCISE 13

Transcribe and translate the following clauses and sentences. To give you practice in using the dictionary, the meaning of most individual words will no longer be given in the exercises: you can find them in the dictionary at the back of this book.

1. (Urk.VII, 14, 20) — jj.n.j “I returned”

2. (CT V, 16f) — title of a funerary spell

3. (Sin. R 27–28) — nf.n.j wj “I took myself off ”

4. (Sin. B 6–7) — nj k.(j) “I did not plan”

5. (Sin. R 45) — narrative, tr “at the time”

6. (Sin. R 142) — m.f wj “he sees me”

7. (Sin. R 156)

8. (Sin. B 190–91) — sḫ n.k “recall to yourself ”

9. (Sin. B 215–16) — see §§ 10.9 and 4.4

10. (ShS. 16–17) — wšb.k “you should answer”

11. (ShS. 172) — for see Essay 6

12. (Westc. 2, 9) — wrš.n.s “she spent the day”

13. (Westc, 3, 7–8) — wj jj.kw “I have come”

14. (Westc. 4, 6–7)

15. (Westc. 7, 4) — jw.f rḫ “he knows how,” ḥsq “severed”

16. (Westc. 7, 15–16) — past

17. (Westc. 7, 20–21) — jj.n.j “I have come”

18. (Westc. 8, 2)

19. (Westc. 12, 1) — ḥ.n sdm.n.s “then she heard”

20. (Westc. 12, 6–7) — r-wsr “Raweser” (a name)

21. (Westc. 12, 17–18)

22. (Westc. 12, 19–20) — for see § 8.2.6; r(w)d-ddt “Ruddjedet” (a name)

23. (CT II, 291l–m) — title of a funerary spell

24. (Peas. B1, 79–80) — wd.tw n.f “let him be commanded”

25. (CT VI, 144a) — title of a funerary spell

26. (Peas. R 17, 6) — mrr.k “you wish”

27. (Peas. B1, 177)

28. (Peas. B1, 263–65) — two sentences

1 The verb nj “travel by boat” is 3ae-inf. The expression m ḫd “downstream” involves a verbal noun (not the infinitive) of 3ae-inf. ḫdj “go downstream”: literally, “in going downstream.”

2 The verb ḫntj “go upstream” is 4ae-inf. For p “the,” see § 5.10.3.

3 The spelling of the infinitive swrj is etymological: the verb is originally 3-lit. swr, later swj: see § 2.8.3.

4 The “plural strokes” are a determinative, borrowed from the word ḫmtw “three” (§ 9.2).

5 jr.n.f is the verb form known as the relative sdm.n.f. It will be discussed in Lesson 22.

6 For r wšd.f, which also contains the infinitive, see § 13.11.3, above.

7 Title of a funerary spell. For m wḥm, literally “in repeating,” see § 13.11.2.

8 Title of a funerary spell.

9 The caus. 3-lit. verb sš means literally “cause to be many”; the plural strokes are a determinative.

10 From a hymn to the rising sun: wbn.k and ḫpr.k are finite verb forms with the suffix pronoun as subject. For nouns used as adverbs, see § 8.14.

14.THE PSEUDO-VERBAL CONSTRUCTION

14.1Forms

In Lessons 10 – 11 we learned how Egyptian uses a prepositional phrase as an adverbial predicate in sentences and clauses, and in § 13.11 we saw that the infinitive can be used as the object of a preposition, like other nouns. As you might expect, therefore, the combination of a preposition plus infinitive can also be used as an adverbial predicate. Egyptologists call this kind of predicate the pseudo-verbal construction: “verbal” because it involves a verb form (the infinitive), but “pseudo” because it is actually a non-verbal predicate (adverbial), even though part of the predicate is a real verb form (the infinitive).

Not every combination of a preposition plus the infinitive can be used in the pseudo-verbal construction. In Middle Egyptian only three kinds of prepositional phrases occur in this use:

ḥr plus infinitive — for example, ḥr jrt (literally, “upon doing”)

m plus infinitive — for example, m ht (literally, “in descending”)

r plus infinitive — for example, r prt (literally, “to emerge”).

Of these, ḥr plus infinitive and r plus infinitive are very common in Middle Egyptian texts; m plus infinitive is used less often, and only with intransitive verbs. All three pseudo-verbal constructions have Coptic descendants, known as the “First Present” (from original ḥr plus infinitive), “First Future” (from m plus infinitive), and “Third Future” (from r plus infinitive). Egyptologists sometimes use these names to refer to the Middle Egyptian constructions as well.

14.2Basic meanings

Despite the names of its Coptic descendants, the pseudo-verbal construction is essentially non-temporal, like all adverbial predicates: in itself it does not express a particular tense, but it can be used to describe past, present, or future actions (see § 11.3). It is also basically indicative, denoting a statement of fact (see § 12.9.3). These features are common to all three pseudo-verbal predicates, but the three pseudo-verbal constructions have different basic meanings.

In Middle Egyptian the combination of ḥr plus infinitive as a pseudo-verbal predicate most often expresses the imperfect (see § 12.9.2). It usually corresponds to the progressive forms of English verbs—that is, those which consist of a form of the verb be plus the gerund: for example, ḥr jrt “is doing, was doing.” Like the English progessive, it normally indicates action in process either at the moment of speaking (for example, Jill is doing the crossword puzzle) or at the time of another action (for instance, Jack called while Jill was doing the crossword puzzle). Although this is the original, and most common, meaning, Egyptian eventually began to use ḥr plus infinitive to express simple action as well. Occasionally, therefore, ḥr plus infinitive corresponds to the simple present or past tense of English—particularly in gnomic statements, as in the English example Jill does crossword puzzles. This use begins to appear in texts in Dynasty 12 and is most often found in Middle Egyptian texts from the New Kingdom.

The combination of m plus infinitive as a pseudo-verbal predicate can also be translated with the English progressive: for example, m ht “is descending.” Rather than action in progress, however, it seems to imply future action, much like the English progressive does in a sentence such as Jack is going to Alaska this summer. Like ḥr plus infinitive, this construction also changed in meaning over the course of time. In texts from the New Kingdom, m plus infinitive often expresses the imperfect, like the pseudoverbal construction with ḥr plus infinitive.

The pseudo-verbal construction with r plus infinitive denotes action that has yet to happen at the moment of speaking or with respect to another action: for example, r prt “will emerge, was to emerge.” Usually this predicate implies an action that is inevitable or compulsory. In this respect it is similar to the English constructions with a form of the verbs be or have plus the infinitive, which also denote action that has yet to happen: for example, Jill is to give the opening address and Jack has to leave. The Egyptian pseudo-verbal predicate with r plus infinitive can usually be translated with these constructions as well as with the simple future: for example, r prt “is to emerge, has to emerge, was to emerge, had to emerge,” and so forth, as well as “will emerge.”

As is normal with adverbial predicates, the pseudo-verbal construction comes after its subject (see § 10.2). It can be used in most of the ways that other adverbial predicates are used. These uses are described in the following sections.

14.3Basic uses

Like other adverbial predicates, the pseudo-verbal construction can be used without any introductory word: for example,

nb wr ḥr jtt (Peas. B1, 123–24)

A great lord is taking possession

wt ḫst r swrj ḥr jtrw nw kmt (Neferti 35–36)

A foreign land’s flocks are to drink at the river of Egypt (a prophecy).¹

This use is normally possible only with a nominal subject, as in these examples, or—in later Middle Egyptian texts—with special forms of the personal pronoun (§§ 14.4–5).

In most cases, pseudo-verbal predicates have the same introductory words that are used with other adverbial predicates, such as jw and m.k (§§ 10.3–4): for example,

jw sr(j)w ḥr rdjt n.k jw.k ḥr jtt (Peas. B1, 332–33)

The officials are giving to you and you are taking

m.t wj m ht r kmt r jnt qw jm n hrdw.j (Peas. R 1, 2–3)

Look, I am going down to Egypt to get supplies there for my children

m.k wj r nḥm .k sḫtj (Peas. B1, 42)

Look, I have to take away your donkey, peasant.

As with other adverbial predicates, the tense of the pseudo-verbal construction depends on the context in which it is used. While ḥr or m plus infinitive are often best translated with the present tense, they sometimes express past actions (for examples, see §§ 14.6 and 14.8). Similarly, while r plus infinitive usually refers to future events, it can also denote an action that had yet to happen in the past (example cited in § 14.5).

14.4The pseudo-verbal construction with subject pronouns

The pronominal subject of a pseudo-verbal construction is normally expressed by a suffix or dependent pronoun after an introductory particle, as in the last three examples of the preceding section. In § 10.5 we met a special form of the personal pronoun that is used as the subject of an adverbial predicate in later Middle Egyptian texts. This pronoun can also function as the subject of a pseudo-verbal predicate: for example,

tw.j r tḥn ḥnf (Helck, HBT, 84)

I am to engage with him (in battle).

14.5The impersonal subject pronoun tw

Besides the personal pronouns, Egyptian also has an impersonal pronoun tw (also and , rarely tj). This pronoun is used exclusively as the subject of an adverbial predicate (including the pseudo-verbal construction) or a verb form, either as a suffix or as a dependent pronoun. It can usually be translated by the English impersonal pronoun one, or its predicate can be translated by an English passive construction with the pronoun it as subject:² for example,

jw.tw r gmt mw (Dunham, Uronarti, pl. 25, 3)

One had to find water (or “Water had to be found”) (in a narrative)

m.k tw ḥr dd (Kahun, pl. 28, 36)

Look, one is saying (or “Look, it is being said”).

An example with tw as subject of an infinitive is jt.tw r dd n ḥm.f (Urk. IV, 656, 14) “one’s coming to say to His Incarnation”: compare the use of the suffix pronouns as subject of the infinitive (§ 13.4.2).

With a pseudo-verbal predicate, tw can be used by itself as subject without any introductory particle: for instance,

tw r šzp ḫw nw ḥ (Neferti 39)

One is to take up tools of fighting (or “Tools of fighting are to be taken up”).

This use of tw is restricted to pseudo-verbal predicates with r plus infinitive, as in this example. In Middle Egyptian of the New Kingdom the subject pronoun has an impersonal form tw.tw (or . This is used, like the other subject pronouns, as the subject of any adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate: for example,

tw.tw ḥr s.n (Paheri, pl. 3, reg. 4)

One is hurrying us (or “We are being hurried”).

Later Middle Egyptian sometimes uses tw not only as an impersonal pronoun but also as a substitute for nouns or noun phrases referring to the king. In this case, it is normally translated as “One” (capitalized). An example with adverbial predicate is

jw.tw m ḥ (Urk. IV, 2031, 15) “One was in the palace.”

This use of the pronoun tw does not seem to occur earlier than the New Kingdom.

14.6The pseudo-verbal construction after ḥ.n and wn.jn

The pseudo-verbal predicate with ḥr plus infinitive is also used with two introductory words that are not used in other kinds of adverbial-predicate sentences: ḥ.n and wn.jn (also spelled ). Both of these words mean “then,” and they are found almost exclusively in narrative texts. Like jw, they are followed by a nominal or suffix-pronoun subject: for example,

ḥ.n.j ḥr jš n mš (ShS. 170)

Then I was calling to the expeditionary force

wn.jn ḥm.f ḥr pg zhw (Helck, HBT, 22)

Then His Incarnation was spreading open the writings

wn.jn.tw ḥr ḥ m t kmt (Urk. IV, 4, 3)

Then there was fighting in that (part of ) Egypt.

These two introductory words are actually verb forms: ḥ.n means literally “stood up” and wn.jn “then existed.” Thus, the examples just given mean literally “I stood up upon calling,” “Then His Incarnation existed upon spreading open,” and “Then one existed upon fighting.” But when used to introduce a pseudo-verbal predicate they have lost their literal meaning and denote simply subsequent (ḥ.n) or consequent (wn.jn) action in a narrative (i.e., “then”).

In some texts of Dynasty 18, wn.jn is occasionally replaced by another verb form, wn.ḫr, with the same syntax and apparently the same meaning: for example,

wn.ḫr.j ḥr šms jty (Urk. IV, 3, 5)

Then I was following the sire.

The form wn.jn can also introduce an adjectival predicate:

wn.jn nfr st ḥr jb.sn (Kagemni 2, 6)

Then it was good upon their mind(s).

All three introductory words are also used with verbal predicates, as we will see in future lessons.

14.7The pseudo-verbal construction without an infinitive

The preposition ḥr can be used as a pseudo-verbal predicate without an infinitive when it introduces a direct quotation. In this case the infinitive dd “saying” is understood: for example,

ḥr-nb ḥr nb.n pw (Urk. IV, 17, 10–11)

Everyone is (saying), “He is our lord” (literally, “every-face is upon ‘He is our lord’”).

14.8The negated pseudo-verbal construction

The pseudo-verbal construction with ḥr plus infinitive can be negated by nn, like other adverbial predicates: for example,

nn wj ḥr sdm st (ShS. 74–75, emended) “I was not hearing it.”

With r plus infinitive, two constructions are attested:

nn sw r ḫpr (Moalla, 185) “He is not to come into existence”

nn jw.j r wḥ.t (Paheri, pl. 7) “I’m not going to stop you.”

Such uses are rare, however. Normally the negation of the pseudo-verbal construction is expressed with a finite verb form, as we will see in later lessons.

14.9The pseudo-verbal construction in questions

Like other adverbial predicates, the pseudo-verbal construction can be used in questions as well as statements of fact. Most examples occur after the interrogative word jn (§ 11.11.2): for example,

jn jw.k ḥr m (Meir I, pl. 5)

Do you see? (literally, “Are you seeing?”).

The pseudo-verbal construction is rare in other kinds of questions. The following is an exceptional instance, with an interrogative adverb at the beginning of the sentence:

mj mj jr.f z nb ḥr smmw sn.f (Adm. 14, 14)

So, why is every man killing his brother?

The pseudo-verbal sentence here is actually in apposition to the unexpressed subject of the initial question: literally, “So, (it is) like what, every man is killing his brother?”³

ESSAY 14. THE MEMPHITE THEOLOGY

Although creation by means of perception and the creative word are sometimes associated with the god Ptah, as noted in Essay 13, why this should be so is not immediately clear.

Ptah was the chief deity of Memphis, Egypt’s political capital from the beginning of pharaonic history, where he was known, from the location of his chief temple, as rsw(j) jnb.f “he who is south of his (city’s) wall” (a nfr ḥr construction: § 6.5). Even in his earliest attestations, Ptah is associated with the mineral elements of the created world—metal ores and stone—and with the art of fashioning these elements into artifacts. He is shown with the same close-fitting skullcap that craftsmen wear in Old Kingdom tomb reliefs, and his high priest has the title wr ḫrp ḥmwt “the chief one who manages craftsmanship.” Ptah was especially revered as the patron of metalworkers, sculptors, and architects. His association with metal was often honored by uniting him with zkr Sokar, the falcon-headed deity of meteoric ore, in the combined form Ptah-Sokar, and his relationship to stone led to his union with the god Tatenen (see Essay 11), in the form of Ptah-Tatenen, particularly in the New Kingdom.

These characteristics explain why Ptah was often worshipped as a creator of the physical world, but not why that function should be associated with the nonphysical aspect of creation by thought and speech. Fortunately, chance has preserved for us a unique document that clarifies the association.

In the British Museum is a large piece of black granite known as the “Shabaka Stone” (ZÄS 39, pls. 1–2), made to be set up in Ptah’s temple at Memphis. Although it was inscribed in the reign of the 25th-Dynasty pharaoh Shabaka (ca. 713–698 BC), its text purports to be much older, as the king’s dedicatory inscription informs us:

Copy by His Incarnation of this writing anew in the house of his father Ptah South of His Wall, since His Incarnation found it as something that those before had made but as something that worms had eaten, and unknowable from beginning to end.

From this text it seems that the original found by Shabaka was written on papyrus or leather. It was once thought to date to the Old Kingdom, but now is dated to the reign of the 19th-Dynasty pharaoh Ramesses II, some 550 years earlier than Shabaka, or even to the reign of Shabaka himself.

The text consists largely of a ritual commemorating the original unification of the Two Lands at Memphis (see Essay 1). At its end, however, is a shorter section devoted to the role of Ptah in the creation. This part of the text is often called the “Memphite Theology.” It begins with a reference to the Heliopolitan creation account and the notion of the creative word: “Evolution into the image of Atum occurred through the heart and occurred through the tongue.” The text then continues:

But much older is Ptah, who enlivened all the gods as well as their life-forces (kw “kas”) through this heart and through this tongue … His Ennead is in his presence in teeth and lips, which are the seed and hands of Atum: for Atum’s Ennead evolved from his seed and his fingers, but the Ennead is teeth and lips in this mouth that pronounced the identity of everything and through which Shu and Tefnut emerged and gave birth to the Ennead.

Here the notion of creative thought and speech is given priority over the physical evolution of Atum into the forces and elements of the created world (“Atum’s Ennead”). In effect, the text states that the creator’s concept of the world and his creative utterance of that concept caused the “Big Bang” that resulted in Atum’s evolution.

The text also clearly associates Ptah with the creator’s thought and utterance. Like other accounts of Ptah’s role in the creation, however, it does not actually identify Ptah as the creator himself. Rather, Ptah is an intermediary between the act of creative thought and speech and the result of that act, the evolution of Atum: he “enlivened all the gods as well as their life-forces through this heart and through this tongue.”

The key to Ptah’s part in the creation lies in his role as patron of metalworkers, sculptors, and architects. These human acts of creation all involve an initial concept in the mind of the artisan—for example, of a statue or building—which is then given physical form through the use of the raw materials of metal or stone. In the end, the artisan’s concept and craftsmanship or direction result in the “evolution” of the original raw material into a finished statue or building. To the Egyptians, Ptah was the divine force that made this evolution possible. In the same way, the force represented by Ptah made it possible for the creator’s initial concept of the world (“heart,” “perception”) and his creative direction (“tongue,” “announcement”) to result in the evolution of Atum’s raw material into the physical world. The text of the Memphite Theology puts it as follows: “So has Ptah become content after his making everything as well as every divine speech … So have the gods entered into their bodies.”

It is significant that the text equates the creation of “everything” with the creation of “every divine speech.” “Divine speech”— mdw-ntr, literally, “god’s speech”—is the same term used to describe hieroglyphic writing (§ 1.4). As we have learned, hieroglyphs have a dual nature: they are images of things in the real world, but they are also representations of ideas. By using the term “divine speech” to describe the created world, the author of the Memphite Theology implies that everything in creation is itself a kind of hieroglyph of the creator’s original concept. In the same way, the beginning of the text refers to “evolution into the image of Atum.” The word “image”— tjt—is also used of hieroglyphic signs (the determinative is an adze, with which such signs could be carved). The physical world is thus an “image” of the original raw material of Atum in the same way that a hieroglyph is an “image” of a physical thing.

The Memphite Theology is one of the most sophisticated texts that has survived from ancient Egypt. It was probably written in a period of great intellectual creativity that flourished under Ramesses II, which produced another masterpiece of Egyptian thought that we will examine in Essay 15. By identifying Ptah as the intermediary between the creator’s intellect and the physical evolution of the world, it anticipated the notion of the demiurge in Greek philosophy more than five hundred years later, a notion that eventually found its way into Christian philosophy, as expounded in the opening words of the Gospel of John:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. Through him all things came into being, and of all that has come into being not one thing came into being except through him (John 1:1–3).

Just by itself, the Memphite Theology is enough to place Egyptian thought squarely in the line, and at the beginning, of the great traditions of Western philosophy.

EXERCISE 14

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (ShS. 59–60) — from a story

2. (Neferti 27)

3. (Neferti 40)

4.

(Neferti 63–65) —a prophecy

5. (Peas. R 9, 5–6)

6. (Peas. B1, 129)

7. (Peas. B1, 179–80)

8. (Peas. B1, 314)

9. (Peas. B2, 113–14)

10. (Peas. R 11, 4–5)

11.

(Urk. IV, 4, 10–13) — from an autobiography

12. (Adm. 6, 13)

13.
(Hatnub 25, 19–20) — from a graffito in an alabaster quarry: (j)m(j)-r š(j) “quarryoverseer,” sbkw-m-ḥt “Sebekemhat” (a name)

14. (Merikare 9, 1)

15. (CT II, 338a)

16. (CT II, 340a)

17. (Sin. B 140) — from a story

18. (Sin. B 229) — from a story

19. (Sin. B 71)

20. (Leb. 11)

21. (Leb. 35–36)

22. (Leb. 83–84) — from a story

23. (Leb. 105–108)

24. (Amenemhat 3, 8 restored)

25. (pBerlin 3029, 1, 4 emended)

1 Terms for liquids, such as jtrw “river,” are often treated as plural: hence nw rather than n “of.”

2 The French impersonal pronoun on has a similar twofold translation in English: on dit “one says” or “it is said.”

3 The prepositional phrase jr.f here acts like the English particle so; this use will be discussed in Lesson 15. The infinitive is from the 3-lit. root sm. Its spelling reflects both the original root (sm) and the loss of the final consonant in pronunciation (sm); the final w shows that the infinitive ended in a vowel (i.e, *sVmV, originally *sVmV).

15.THE IMPERATIVE AND PARTICLES

15.1Definition and regular forms of the imperative

The imperative is a verb form that is used to command action. It is always used by a speaker addressing someone (or something) in the second person, singular or plural. English has only one imperative form, which is used when addressing both one person (or thing) and more than one person (or thing): for example, Wash yourself! (singular) and Wash yourselves! (plural).

Written Middle Egyptian, for the most part, also has only one imperative form. For most verb classes, this is the verb root: for example,

2-lit. | dd (Peas. B1, 351) “speak, say”
2ae-gem. | m (Peas. B1, 278) or m (ShS. 179) “see”
3-lit. | sdm (Peas. B1, 351) “hear”
3ae-inf. | jn (Peas. R 7, 7) “get”
4-lit. | ndnd (Ptahhotep 54) “consult”
4ae-inf. | ndr (Merikare 1, 2) “grab hold”
caus. 2-lit. | srḫ (Merikare 3, 2) “make known, denounce”
caus. 3-lit. | sḫpr (Peas. B1, 272) “bring about, make happen”
caus. 3ae-inf. | s (Merikare 4, 7) “enlarge”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sḫnt (Merikare 6, 3) “promote” (cause to be in front)
anom. | jj (Peas. B1, 98) or jw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 71, 1) “come”
| dj (Sethe, DT, pl. 15, 52; Rhind Problem 41) “give, put.”

This form is used when speaking to one person or more than one, male or female. Spoken Middle Egyptian, however, may have had four imperative forms, at least for some verbs: masculine and feminine, distinguished by vowels; and singular and plural, distinguished by the absence or presence of an ending. These features are preserved in the Coptic imperatives meaning “come!”:

MS | amoy
MPL | amvi
FS | amh
FPL | amhi.

Of course, hieroglyphic shows no trace of the vowels that distinguished masculine and feminine imperatives, but the difference between singular and plural is sometimes reflected in writing. Imperatives addressed to more than one person can be written with plural strokes: for example, wd (Sin. B 282) “proceed.” An ending –y (ancestor of the Coptic plural ending –i) sometimes appears in the plural imperative of final-weak verbs: for instance, dgy (Siut III, 43) “look” (from 3ae-inf. dgj), dy (BD 112) “give” (from anom. rdj). Other roots rarely show the same ending: jtḥy (Urk. IV, 1023, 16) “pull” (from 3-lit. jtḥ).

15.2Special forms

Middle Egyptian also has a few irregular imperatives.

1)Prefixed forms

In Old Egyptian the imperative of some verb classes often had a prefix (see § 12.8.3). This feature is occasionally found in the imperative of some 2-lit. verbs in Middle Egyptian: for example, j.z(j) (Peas. R 7, 6) “go,” j.mz (Meir I, pl. 10) “bring.”

2)The imperative mj “come”

The regular imperatives of the anomalous verb jjj/jwj “come,” shown in § 15.1, are not often used. In place of these, Middle Egyptian normally uses the special imperative mj, the ancestor of Coptic amoy, etc.; also spelled (Urk. IV, 255, 12). In most texts this imperative is spelled (Sin. B 160), where the “arm” sign is a biliteral mj (more properly : see the next paragraph). Like other final-weak imperatives, the plural of mj can be written with an ending: for example, my (CT II, 213c) “come!”

3)The imperative jmj “give”

The regular imperative of rdj “give, put” is also rare. Instead, most Middle Egyptian texts use the imperative jmj. In this word, the sign was originally a biliteral jm, with the first two signs as its phonetic complements and the final sign as determinative. ¹ Eventually, however, it came to be used as a uniliteral m (like : § 2.3). As a result, texts of the New Kingdom and later sometimes spell the imperative jmj as if it had two ms: (Urk. IV, 20, 11), (KRI IV, 16, 10).

4)The imperative m “take”

The verbs šzp “take” (3-lit.) and jtj “take possession” (3ae-inf.) have regular imperatives. In addition to these, however, Middle Egyptian has an imperative m (originally jm), also meaning “take!” This is found exclusively in religious texts, and almost always with a following dative: for example, m n.k jrtj.k (Erman, Hymnen, 13, 4–5) “Take to you your two eyes.” The imperative and the following dative were apparently pronounced as one word; as a result, the imperative m and the preposition n are usually written together, with the biliteral sign mn:² for instance, m-n.k jrt.k (Sethe, DT, pl. 13, 9) “Take to you your eye.”

15.3Object and subject of the imperative

The object of the imperative is expressed by a noun (or noun phrase) or pronoun; for personal pronouns the dependent form is used: for example,

j tw jmj mw ḥr dbw.k (ShS. 13–14)

Wash yourself; put water on your fingers,

where the 2ms pronoun tw “you, yourself ” is object of the imperative j “wash” and the noun mw “water” is object of the imperative jmj “put.” Sentences with the imperative follow the rules of word order described in § 14.6: for instance,

j.z(j) jn n.j jfd m pr.j (Peas. R 7, 6–7)

Go, get me a sheet from my house

j.z(j) jn n.j sw (Westc. 8, 9)

Go, get him for me,

where the pronominal dative n.j “for me” precedes both the nominal object jfd “a sheet” (VdO) and the pronominal object sw “him” (Vdo); and

jmj mrwt.k n t-tmw (Merikare 12, 11)

Give your love to everyone³

jmj n.n ḫnt.n nfrt (Sin. B 275)

Give us our good outlay,⁴

where the nominal dative n t-tmw “to everyone” follows the nominal object mrwt.k “your love” (VOD) but the pronominal dative n.n “to us” precedes the nominal object ḫnt.n nfrt “our good outlay” (VdO).

As in English, the subject of the imperative (“you”) is normally understood but not expressed. When it is expressed, however, Egyptian uses the dependent pronouns after the imperative: for instance,

wd tw ds.k z-mrw (Peas. B2, 133)

You decide by yourself, son of Meru⁵

wd tn r ḫnwtj (Sin. B 282)

You (all) proceed to the audience-hall.

As the translations of these examples show, English can also express the subject of the imperative with a pronoun (“you”).

The second-last example also shows how Egyptian can use a noun or noun phrase referring to the imperative’s subject (in this case, z-mrw “son of Meru,” the person being addressed). The noun or noun phrase in this use is known as the vocative. A vocative can be used with the imperative even when the subject is not expressed, and unlike the subject it can come before or after the imperative: for instance,

mww my (TTS II, pl. 22) “Dancers, come!”

my rḥw (TTS II, pl. 7) “Come, companions!”

15.4Negation of the imperative

Middle Egyptian has two ways to express a negative imperative. Both use the negation m (usually spelled just ), which is actually the imperative form of the negative verb jmj (one of the two forms in which this defective verb can appear: § 12.7). In the simpler negation, m is followed by the negatival complement (§ 13.17): for example,

h r ḫrw m hw ḥr dp.f (MuK. 3, 6)

Descend to below: don’t descend on his head!

where m hw “don’t descend” is the negative counterpart of the imperative h “descend.” Besides the simple negatival complement, m can also be followed by the negatival complement of the verb jrj “do” plus a verbal noun: for instance,

ḫy m jr nwdw (Peas. B1, 123)

Measuring-line, don’t deviate!

literally, “don’t do deviation.” The two-part construction (m plus negatival complement) is common in earlier Middle Egyptian texts. The three-part form (m jr plus verbal noun) begins to replace this construction already in the Middle Kingdom, and by the New Kingdom it has become the standard way of negating the imperative, particularly in less formal texts. In this respect the history of Middle Egyptian is similar to that of English, where an original two-part construction (go not!) has also been replaced by one that uses the verb do (do not go!, don’t go!).

The negated imperative follows the same rules as the imperative (§ 15.3), with one addition: when the imperative being negated is from an intransitive verb, the negatival complement can have a third-person subject. English doesn’t have this kind of construction, so in this case, m has to be translated as “don’t let” rather than “don’t.” Most examples are from adjective-verbs (§ 12.2): for example,

m jb.k ḥr rḫ.k (Ptahhotep 52)

Don’t let your mind get big because of your knowledge,

where jb.k “your mind” is the subject of the negatival complement “get big.” The relationship between the adjective verb and its subject in this construction is similar to that between the adjective and a following noun in the nfr ḥr construction (§ 6.5): literally, perhaps, “don’t get big of your mind” (compare English “don’t get bigheaded”). Note that the adjective verb describes a process (“get big”), not a simple quality (“be big”).

PARTICLES

15.5Definitions

The category of particles is a kind of catchall for words that do not fit readily into the other categories of Egyptian words (nouns, pronouns, adjectives, prepositions, adverbs, and verbs). We have met some of these words over the course of the previous lessons.

Egyptian particles are usually categorized by where they occur in the clause or sentence. Some particles are always the first element in a clause or sentence: these are known as proclitic particles (from a term of Greek grammar, meaning “leaning forward”). Other particles can only occur inside a clause or sentence, usually as the second element: these are called enclitic particles (“leaning in”). Interjections are particles that can stand alone, or that could be omitted from a clause without substantially changing its meaning.

15.6Proclitic particles

1) jw

This is the most common of all Egyptian particles. We have already met it in connection with adjectival and adverbial sentences (§§ 10.3, 14.3); it is also used in sentences with a verbal predicate, as we will see in later lessons. The particle jw basically serves to assert that a statement is related to the moment of speaking or to another statement. It is almost always the first element in its clause, although it can occasionally follow another proclitic particle. Because it makes a distinction that English does not express (§ 10.3), jw itself cannot be translated.

2) jn (also )

The particle jn is one of the most versatile of all Egyptian particles. So far, we have seen how it is used to introduce a non-verbal question (§§ 7.13.1, 11.11.2, 14.9); it also introduces verbal questions, as we will see in later lessons. Besides this function, jn serves to mark the subject in particular kinds of sentences, a use we will also examine in future lessons. This particle is probably the same word as the jn that is used to indicate the agent of the infinitive or a passive verb (§§ 8.2.2, 13.4.1).

3) jḫ “then”

This particle is used to mark consequence. It is used almost exclusively before one particular verb form, which we will discuss in a later lesson.

4) jsw “behold, indeed”

The particle jsw has much the same meaning as m.k (§ 15.6.7), and is used in much the same way: for example,

jsw dw pw mdr d (Kahun, pl. 2, 19)

Indeed, he is the mountain that blocks the gale.⁶

This particle is less common than m.k, though it survived into Coptic (as eis “behold”) long after m.k disappeared from the spoken language.

5) jst (also

The particle jst (etc.) can be used to mark a dependent clause, as we will see in Lesson 20. As such, it can often be translated by English conjunctions such as “when, while, as.” In other cases, however, it indicates a looser relationship between the sentence it introduces and what precedes; in that case, it is best translated by an initial adverb such as “meanwhile,” “now,” or “and.”

6) wnt “that”

The particle wnt is used to mark a clause with a non-verbal or verbal predicate as a noun clause (discussed in Lesson 21) and corresponds to the English word that, which also marks noun clauses. Although it is classed as a particle, wnt may be a form of the verb wnn “exist.” It is less common than ntt, which has the same use (§ 15.6.11).

7) m.k (etc.) “behold”

We have already met this particle in our discussions of non-verbal sentences (§ 10.4.1), and it is used in verbal sentences in the same way. It always serves to introduce a sentence and seems to be used to call the statement that follows to the attention of the person or persons being spoken to. For this reason, it normally has the form m.k (2ms), m.t or m.t (2fs), m.tn or m.tn (2pl), with the second-person suffix pronouns. Rarely, the form mj is used by itself, without a suffix pronoun. In that case, the particle has the meaning “although” or “whether”: for example,

mj wj m ḫnw mj wj m jst tn (Sin. B 232)

whether I am at home (literally, “in the interior”) or whether I am in this place.

The particle mj may have started out as an imperative meaning “see!” or the like; it was originally followed by the dependent second-person pronouns, like an imperative (§ 15.3), rather than the suffix forms: m.k, for example, was originally m kw, with an archaic form of the 2ms pronoun tw.

8) nj and nn “not”

These are the two major negative words of Middle Egyptian. We have already seen how both of them are used in the negation of words and of non-verbal sentences (§§ 11.4–8, 13.15). They are also used to negate verb forms, as we will learn in future lessons. The particle nn can also be used by itself to contrast with a preceding statement, with the meaning “or not”:

dt jtrw m s tbwtj dt nfr nn (Peas. B1, 230–31)

Crossing the river by sandals: a good crossing or not?⁷

Most Middle Egyptian texts clearly distinguish the negative particles nj and nn by their spelling: is used only in the spelling of nn, and nj is spelled with alone. The particle nn is a creation of Middle Egyptian: Old Egyptian had only the particle nj, which was used like both of the later negations nj and nn. Some early Middle Egyptian texts still have remnants of this older system, and use nj where standard Middle Egyptian texts would use nn. There is also reason to think that older texts sometimes use as a spelling of nj—i.e., n(j), with as a phonetic complement. Although you can usually rely on the spelling to indicate whether nj or nn is meant, therefore, you also need to be aware of the different constructions in which both negations are used (for non-verbal sentences, see § 11.8; their use in verbal sentences will be summarized in Lesson 26). If one of the negations appears in a construction for which it is not normally used, there is a chance that is being used for nn, as it was in Old Egyptian, or that is being used as a spelling of nj, particularly in early Middle Egyptian texts.

9) nfr “not at all, not even”

The particle nfr is an infrequent negation in Middle Egyptian texts. It is found in only three constructions:

nfr pw, used in the construction nfr pw X “there is no X at all”: for example, nfr pw m tk jm (Urk. IV, 772, 6) “There was no offering of a taper at all there,” or “There was not even the offering of a taper there.” This is a stronger negation than the more common nn X “there is no X” (§ 11.4).

nfr n “not, that not,” used with a following verb form. This is an Old Egyptian construction and is normally replaced by the negative verb tm (§ 13.16) in Middle Egyptian.

nfr “not at all, not even,” used mostly with a following verb form. This construction is a variant of nfr n found in a few early Middle Egyptian texts.

The particle nfr is related to the noun nfrw “depletion” (see § 9.1 end).

10) nḥmn “surely”

We have met this particle in connection with adverbial sentences (§ 10.4.3). It is always used at the beginning of a sentence, with non-verbal or verbal predicates, and emphasizes the truth of the statement.

11) ntt “that”

The particle ntt is used to mark a noun clause (discussed in Lesson 21); it corresponds to the English word that, which has the same function. Although it can be considered as a particle, ntt is actually the feminine form of the relative adjective ntj, which will also be discussed in Lesson 22.

12) ḥwj “if only, I wish, would that” (also

As we saw in § 10.4.4, these particles are used to mark a sentence as a wish when there is some uncertainty about whether the wish will come true. They are used with verbal as well as non-verbal predicates.

13) ḫr “then” (also originally

The particle ḫr has two functions in Middle Egyptian. It can be used as to allow a prepositional phrase to stand at the beginning of a sentence: for example,

ḫr m ḫt mšrw ḫpr.(w) jwt pw jr.n p nds (Westc. 13, 10–11)

After evening fell, what the gentleman did was to come.

Here ḫr introduces the prepositional phrase m ḫt “after” (literally, “in the wake”), which governs the verb phrase mšrw ḫpr.(w) “evening fell.”⁸ In this use ḫr always marks the beginning of a sentence. Secondly, ḫr adds a sense of necessity or inevitability to a statement, usually after some other statement: for example,

wbn.f ḫr t m ḥwt (Helck, Nilhymnus, 20)

He rises, and then the land is in excitement.⁹

The distinction between the two uses of ḫr is easy to recognize: when it is followed directly by a prepositional phrase, ḫr marks the beginning of a sentence; otherwise, it denotes necessity or inevitability.

14) smwn “perhaps, maybe, probably”

This particle introduces a sentence with non-verbal or verbal predicate. It indicates that the statement is uncertain: for example,

nb.j smwn sḫtj.f pw (Peas. R 13, 5)

My lord, perhaps it is his peasant.

Smwn may come from an adverbial sentence s(j) m wn “it is as may be” and would be similar in that respect to English maybe, which comes from the expression “it may be.”

15) k “then” (also )

This particle, like jḫ (§ 15.6.3), marks a statement with verbal or non-verbal predicate as the future result of some preceding action. Like jḫ, too, it is mostly used with one particular verb form, to be discussed in a future lesson.

16) tj

Like jst § 15.6.5), tj marks a dependent clause with verbal or non-verbal predicate; it is generally translated like jst.

15.7Enclitic particles

1)

This particle can be used to emphasize a preceding word or phrase and can often be translated as “just” or “only”: for example, nj sdm.n.k (Peas. B1, 211) “you just don’t listen.” This is also the case with the combined particles nfr “not at all” and ḥ / ḥwj “if only” (§§ 15.6.9, 15.6.12). Most instances of occur in sentences with a verbal predicate; in these it can also indicate that the action of the verb is contrary to fact, as we will see in future lessons.

2) r.f (etc.) “so”

Besides the uses we have already met (§§ 8.2.7, 10.8, 13.11.3, 14.1), the preposition r can also act like an enclitic particle when it governs a suffix pronoun: e.g., jr.f, more often r.f. In this function the prepositional phrase usually appears near the beginning of the sentence, like other enclitic particles, rather than in the normal position of prepositional phrases at the end of the clause. This use is very common in Egyptian texts, though mostly for sentences with a verbal predicate.

The enclitic use of jr.f (etc.) derives from the basic meaning of the preposition r “with respect to” (§ 8.2.7). The suffix pronoun .f refers to some previous statement, and the prepositional phrase serves to relate its clause to the preceding one: for example,

nn jš n ḥt m wnwt.sn

jn jw r.f tnj mjn (Adm. 12, 5)

There is no pilot in their time.

So, where is he now?¹⁰

The enclitic r.f in the second sentence here relates the question to the statement of the first sentence: r.f means literally, “with respect to it,” where the suffix pronoun refers to the preceding sentence. As the translation indicates, this relational value of r.f can often be conveyed by the English particle so. The third-person pronoun is usually the masculine singular .f; the feminine singular (r.s) is rarely used instead.

With a first- or second-person suffix, the enclitic serves to relate the action of the verb to the speaker (first person) or the person(s) being addressed (second person) rather than to a preceding statement. This use is very common with imperatives: for example,

sdm r.k n.j (Leb. 67)

Listen to me!,

literally, “listen, with respect to yourself, to me!”

Enclitic jr.f is used not only by itself, as in the preceding examples, but also in conjunction with other particles. The combination jst r.f is especially common. It is normally used to introduce a new topic or additional information in the course of a narrative, and often corresponds to the English particle now, which has a similar function: for example,

jst r.f jr p mw jw.f m mḥ 12 (Westc. 6, 10–11)

Now, as for the water, it was 12 cubits (deep).

The combination jst r.f is a more specific version of the particle jst alone (§ 15.6.5).

3) js

We have already met this particle as part of the non-verbal negations nj … js (§ 11.5) and nj js (§ 11.7). It is a mark of subordination, as we will see in later lessons.

The subordinating function of js also exists in nj … js and nj js. The negative particle nj can be used to negate a word: for example, nj ḫt pw (Smith 15, 15) “It is nothing” (§ 11.7). The addition of js to such a clause indicates that the negation applies to the entire clause, not just to the word that follows js, as in nj ḫt js pw (Siut I, 301) “It is not a thing.” The sentence nj ḫt pw is an affirmative sentence: literally, “It is a non-thing.” The sentence nj ḫt js pw is a negative sentence: it means that the statement ḫt pw “it is a thing” is not true. The presence of js in the negation nj … js indicates that the entire sentence (ḫt pw) is subordinate to the negation, not just the word (ḫt) that follows nj.

We have also seen how the negation nj js is used to negate a word or phrase in contrast to something, as in ḥwrw nj js mjtw.k (Ptahhotep 75) “an inferior, not your equal” (§ 11.7). Here too js is a marker of subordination: it indicates that the phrase in which it is used (nj js mjtw.k “not your equal”) is dependent—by contrast—on that which precedes it (ḥwrw “an inferior”). The use of js to subordinate a single word or phrase is occasionally found in affirmative sentences as well: for example,

n.k jm.s mjtt tzmw.k js (Sin. B 223–23)

It is yours, being something like your hounds.¹¹

Here js subordinates the noun phrase mjtt tzmw.k “something like your hounds” to the preceding statement n.k jm.s “It is yours.” This use, which is not too common in Middle Egyptian, is difficult to translate literally; in most cases, it can be paraphrased using the word “as” before the subordinated phrase: “It is yours, as something like your hounds.”

4) w “not”

This particle is a rare negation that has survived as a holdover from Old Egyptian. It is found almost exclusively in religious texts, and only with particular verb forms.

5) wnnt “really, indeed” (also wnt)

This particle is used mostly in nominal sentences and only rarely with a verbal predicate. Its meaning corresponds fairly closely to that of English emphasizing adverbs such as really, actually, indeed, truly, in fact: for example,

jnk wnnt sr(j) n jb.f (CG 20543, 16)

I am truly an official great of mind.

6) mj “now, please”

As an enclitic particle, mj is used after the imperative or (rarely) one other verb form: for instance,

mj mj jb.j (Khakh. vo. 1) “Come now, my mind!”

This particle is probably just the proclitic particle mj (§ 15.6.7) used enclitically.

7) ms “surely, indeed” (also msw,

This particle is used mostly in main clauses, with both verbal and non-verbal predicates. It implies astonishment, reproach, objection, or persuasiveness, and corresponds fairly closely in meaning to the English adverb surely, which has much the same connotation: for example,

jw ms r(m)t mj gmw zbw ḫt t

nn ms ḥd ḥbsw m p.n rk (Adm. 2, 8)

The people are surely like black ibises, and dirt is throughout the land:
there is surely no one with white clothes in our time!¹²

The phrase jw ms, which begins the first sentence of this example, was so often associated with sentences used to persuade that it eventually became an idiom for “exaggeration”: for example, nn tz n jw-ms mm (Urk. IV, 835, 14) “there is no phrase of exaggeration among them.”

8) ḥm “and, also, moreover” (also

This particle is found in clauses with non-verbal or verbal predicates. It indicates that the clause in which it occurs is an additional statement to one that has been made earlier: for example,

m.k ḥm .k ḥr wn(m) jtj.j (Peas. R 9, 5–6)

And look, your donkey is eating my grain!

9) swt “but, and”

The particle swt normally occurs in the second of two statements and indicates a contrast with the preceding one, like English but. It is used with non-verbal or verbal predicates. For examples, see Exercise 11, no. 13, and Exercise 14, no. 8.

10) grt “now, moreover, but”

The particle grt is used in sentences with non-verbal or verbal predicates. It has much the same English translation as the particle ḥm (§ 15.7.8), but unlike ḥm it normally marks a new topic or a new line of thought. For an example, see Exercise 11, no. 3.

11) tr (also and tj)

This particle occurs exclusively in questions, as we have seen in previous lessons (§§ 7.13.1–2, 7.13.4, 11.11.2). It is usually not translated, although it occasionally seems to mean something like “actually” or “really” (see § 11.11.2). It is used in clauses with verbal and non-verbal predicates.

15.8Interjections

1) j “oh!” (also and j)

This interjection is used before a vocative: for example, dp(j)w t (CG 20530, 1) “Oh, (you) living who are on earth!” j nḫw

2) j.nd ḥr “greetings!” (also etc.)

This interjection always occurs first in the sentence, always with a second-person suffix pronoun attached to ḥr—i.e., j.nd ḥr.k, j.nd ḥr.t, and j.nd ḥr.tn—and usually with a following vocative: for example, j.nd ḥr.k dḥwtj (CT I, 27c) “Greetings, Thoth!” Although it is used (in this form) only as an interjection, it probably derives from an original verbal expression j.nd.j ḥr.k (etc.), meaning something like “May I inquire about you,” with the first-person suffix unwritten. It is used almost exclusively in religious texts.

3) m-bj “no!” (also and )

This interjection occurs only as a separate word, like the English interjection “no!”: for an example, see Exercise 14, no. 12.

4) h “oh!” (also influenced by the verb hj “descend”)

The interjection h is used like j before a vocative. It is less common than j, and occurs mostly in religious texts, usually before the name of the deceased and often followed by the demonstrative pn (feminine tn) or pw (feminine tw): for example,

h jsjr (r)ḫ-(n)sw(t) z-sbkw pn ḥ (CG 405)

Oh, Osiris Royal Acquaintance Sisobek, stand up!

literally, “Oh, this Osiris (see Essay 8) Royal Acquaintance Sisobek.”

5) tjw “yes!”

Like its negative counterpart m-bj (§ 15.8.3), this interjection is used only as an independent word, like the English “yes!”: for an example, see Exercise 14, no. 12.

ESSAY 15. THE CREATOR

Although they concentrate on different aspects of the creation, the accounts of Heliopolis and Memphis (Essays 12–14) are alike in one respect: the gods in both systems are actually part of the created world. Atum of Heliopolis is the material source of creation, which evolved into the world (as the Ennead), and Ptah of Memphis is the means through which that evolution happened. These gods are immanent in nature (see Essay 4). The gods of the Hermopolitan Ogdoad stand apart from the creation, but they too are immanent—not in the created world, but in the universal ocean that existed before creation and that still surrounds the world.

Immanence is a feature shared by all Egyptian gods, with one exception: the god Amun of Thebes. Amun appears already in texts from the late Old Kingdom, but we do not learn much about him until the Middle Kingdom, when he rose to prominence along with the pharaohs of Dynasties 11 and 12, which originated in Thebes. It was in the 18th Dynasty (which also came from Thebes), however, that Amun first began to dominate Egyptian religion and with it, Egyptian accounts of the creation.

The name “Amun” jmn, more fully jmnw) means “hidden.” Unlike all the other Egyptian gods, who were immanent in the phenomena of nature, Amun was transcendent: he existed apart from the universe, “hidden” from the created world. This quality of Amun is sometimes reflected in an epithet jmn(w)-rn.f “He whose identity (literally, “name”) is hidden” (see § 6.5) and it is occasionally referred to in religious texts of the New Kingdom. The clearest statement of Amun’s transcendence, however, comes from an essay on the god that was written in the 19th Dynasty, probably during the reign of Ramesses II, on a papyrus that is now in the Netherlands National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden. This text explains Amun’s “hidden” nature with the following words:

He is hidden from the gods, and his nature is unknown.

He is farther than the sky, he is deeper than the Duat.

No god knows his true appearance,

no image of his is revealed through inscriptions,

no one testifies to him accurately.

He is too secret to uncover his awesomeness,

he is great to investigate, too powerful to know (Leiden I 350, 4, 17–19)

Unlike the other gods, Amun is not part of the created world (“He is farther than the sky, he is deeper than the Duat”) and is therefore “hidden”—not just from human understanding but even from the knowledge of the gods themselves, who are also part of the created world.

Although Amun himself cannot be known, however, his existence can be deduced from the very fact that the world exists. As the only god who is independent of the universe, he is the true creator: the pre-existing god described in the Memphite Theology (Essay 14), who thought of the world “through the heart” and commanded it to be “through the tongue.” For this reason, all the other gods of creation—Atum and his Ennead, Ptah-Tatenen, and even the Ogdoad of Hermopolis—are really just aspects of Amun himself. As the Leiden papyrus explains it:

He began speaking in the midst of silence …

that he might give birth to what is and cause them to live …

He is the Great One in Heliopolis,

who is also called Tatenen …

Another of his evolutions is the Hermopolitans (Leiden I 350, 3, 26; 4, 1–15).

The Theban concept of Amun as a transcendent god whose existence can be seen in the phenomena of nature is summarized in the person of the god jmn-r “Amun-Re,” who combines the notion of a transcendent god (Amun) with that of the greatest immanent force in nature, the sun (Re). Already in the 12th Dynasty, Amun-Re was recognized as the greatest of all the gods, the nswt ntrw “king of the gods.” In this role Amun-Re was also the source of the pharaoh’s authority, the nb nswt twj “lord of the Two Lands’ thrones,” and he was worshipped as such in the state temple at Karnak. Although there were many other temples to Amun throughout Egypt, Karnak was the most important. Perhaps as early as the Middle Kingdom, pharaohs were either crowned there or had their coronation confirmed there, and during their reigns most kings endeavored to add in some way to its splendor. Karnak became—and remained— the greatest of all Egyptian temples, because it embodied not only the shrine of Amun-Re but also the source of the Egyptian state itself.

Ultimately, the notion that every god could be seen as an aspect of Amun led to a kind of Egyptian monotheism: that is, the idea that all the gods are really one. This is different from the monotheism of Judaism and Islam, which accepts only one God, but it is similar to the notion of the Christian Trinity, which recognizes the existence of three different “persons” (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) in a single God. The Leiden essay on Amun, in fact, anticipated the Christian idea of a triune god by more than a thousand years, in the words cited below (Leiden I 350, 4, 21–22). This passage, the most famous in the Leiden papyrus, recognizes the existence of a single god (in the singular pronoun “his”) but accepts, at the same time, three separate aspects of the god: existing apart from nature (as Amun), yet visible in nature and governing it (as the sun), and the source of all things in nature (as Ptah). These lines have been regarded as the ultimate expression not only of Egyptian creation accounts but also of the entire three-thousand-year history of Egyptian theology.

3 pw ntrw nbw
jmn r ptḥ nn 2nw.sn
jmn rn.f m jmn
ntf r m ḥr dt.f ptḥ

All the gods are three:

Amun, the Sun, and Ptah, without their second.

His identity is hidden in Amun,

his is the Sun as face, his body is Ptah.¹³

Fig. 12. Ptah (left), Amun, Ramesses II, and Re in the temple of Abu Simbel (author’s photo)

EXERCISE 15

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (CT IV, 128i–129b S1C)

2. (Peas. R 1, 3)

3. (Peas. B1, 57)

4. (Peas. R 16, 1–3)

5. (Peas. R 25, 4)

6. (Peas. B1, 194–95)

7. (Leb. 67–68)

8. (Merikare 1, 2)

9. (Merikare 4, 2)

10. (Merikare 11, 7–8)

11. (Neferti 4)

12. (Neferti 12–13) — nfrtj personal name “Neferti”

13. (Heqanakht II, 34) — jnpw “Anubis” (name)

14. (Davies, Rekhmire, pl. 96, 1, 11)

15. (Ptahhotep 316)

16. (Ptahhotep 372)

17. (Peas. B1, 182–83) — kt … kt “one … the other”

18. (ShS. 111–12) — see § 9.5

19. (Paheri, pl. 7) — said by a man giving a woman a drink

20. (Siut III, 43: Kêmi 3, 95)

21. (Kahun, pl. 2, 17) — from a hymn in praise of the king

22. (Peas. R 7, 3) — from a story; nmtj-nḫt “Nemtinakht” (name)

23. (Westc. 11, 23)

24. (Adm. 2, 8– 9) — two sentences, from a description of adverse times

25. (Westc. 5, 7)

26. (Urk. IV, 7, 3/7) — dpj § 8.6.12

27. (CT IV, 176e–g)

28.

(CT IV, 345a–c) — from a description of a journey in the sun’s boat

29. (CT IV, 68b)

30. (CT VII, 358d–359b B2P)

31. (CT I, 119d S1C) — jmnt “the West,” here as a goddess

32. (BD 27) — nḥḥ and dt see Essay 9; grg “founder”

33.

(Urk. IV, 20, 9–16) — šmsw “who follow,” r nmtwt.f “in his footsteps,” for the preposition n (§ 8.2.6), kt-ḫj § 6.7, r “Re, the Sun”

1 Although was originally a determinative in this word, because of its use here it came to be viewed as a biliteral with the value mj (probably *ma). This is why (as well as ) is often found in spellings of words that begin with m, such as m.k (§ 10.4.1) and mḫt “scale” (§ 11. 11.2).

2 Compare the use of biliteral ns in writings of nj-sw, nj-sj, and biliteral nw in writings of nj-wj: § 7.8.

3 t-tmw “everyone” is a noun phrase meaning literally, “the land complete.”

4 There is an extra t in ḫnt.n: the feminine ending is written twice, once in the noun ḫnt and once before its suffix.

5 For ds.k “yourself,” a noun phrase used adverbially, see § 8.14.

6 This sentence is from a hymn in praise of the king; mdr (from the 4ae-inf. verb mdrj) is a participle, a verb form we will meet in Lesson 23.

7 A virtual question (§ 11.11.1); dt is the infinitive of 3ae-inf. dj (masculine: see § 13.8). The sentence is ironic: “crossing the river by sandals” (literally, “on the back of two sandals”) rather than by boat is clearly impossible, and therefore not “a good crossing.” A freer translation might be “Are sandals a good means for crossing the river, or not?”

8 The word ḫpr.(w) “fell” (literally, “happened”) is the stative, a verb form we will meet in the next lesson. For jwt pw jr.n p nds, see § 13.14.3.

9 The word wbn.f is a verb form we will meet in Lesson 18.

10 The expression jš n ḥt “pilot” literally means “caller of the front,” the man who stands at the bow of a boat and watches for obstructions in the river. The passage refers to the lack of a leader for the Egyptians in a troubled time. The subject of the second sentence is omitted (see §§ 10.9–10).

11 For n.k jm.s see §§ 8.10 and 10.7. The word mjtt “something like” is a noun formed from the adjective mjtj “similar,” which in turn is a nisbe of the preposition mj “like”: see § 8.14. The sentence refers to a foreign country as subject to the pharaoh.

12 ḥd ḥbsw is literally, “one white of clothes” (§ 6.5). For p.n “our” see § 5.11.

13 The first line is an A pw B nominal sentence, the second has a phrase with nn (see § 13.15), and the third has an adjectival predicate. The fourth line contains two sentences: the first has a nominal predicate of aherence (§ 7.8); the second is an A B nominal sentence (§ 7.7).

16.THE STATIVE

16.1Definition and basic meaning

The stative is a verb form used to express a state of being in which its subject is, was, or will be. Usually, this is the result of a completed action. In that respect, the stative is similar to the English past participle. In the sentence The table is set, for example, the past participle set describes both a state in which its subject (the table) is and the result of a prior action (in this case, of someone setting the table). Because of this similarity, the stative is sometimes called the “pseudo-participle,” and because of the completed action it generally implies, it is also known as the “old perfective.”

English translations of the stative regularly use the past participle. That verb form is active for intransitive verbs and passive for transitive ones: for example, The sun has risen and The table is set. This makes it seem as if the same was true for the stative: for example, wbn.tj “risen” (from 3-lit. wbn “rise”) but smn.tj “set” (from caus. 2-lit. smn “set”). It is important to remember, however, that this is a peculiarity of English, not Egyptian. The stative is neither active nor passive: it simply expresses state. Also, the English past participle of most intransitive verbs can only be used to express action, not a state of being: for example, The sun has appeared (completed action) but not *The sun is appeared (state). Languages such as French and German, however, normally use the past participle of intransitive verbs to express a state of being, as in Le soleil est paru (French) and Die Sonne ist erschienen (German), both of which mean, literally, “the sun is appeared.” In this respect Egyptian is like French and German rather than English: the stative of intransitive verbs basically expresses state, not action.

The stative is one of the most common Egyptian verb forms, and it existed in all stages of the language, from Old Egyptian through Coptic (where it is often called the “qualitative”). It is also one of the most flexible of all verb forms, appearing in many different uses and constructions. As we will learn in this lesson, English often requires different translations for the stative, depending on how it is used, because of differences between the two languages. Despite these differences, however, you should try to remember that the basic meaning of the stative is an expression of state, even when there is no practical way to translate this basic meaning in good, grammatical English.

The stative is a form that Egyptian has in common with most of the Afro-Asiatic languages to which it is related (§ 1.1), from ancient Akkadian to modern Arabic and Berber. This relationship helps us to understand some of the features of the stative, even though there are often major differences in syntax and meaning between the Egyptian verb form and its Afro-Asiatic relatives.

16.2The stative suffixes

The stative differs from all other Egyptian verb forms in one important respect: it is always combined with a pronominal suffix (some Egyptologists call this the “ending” of the stative). The suffix pronouns used with the stative have a special form, which is found only in combination with the stative:

1s | .kw | or simply
|  | The seated man is a determinative, as in jnk (§ 5.5). The spelling represents .kw, not .kwj: the reed-leaf in this case is used in place of the seated man. The Old Egyptian form was .kj ( or ); this spelling is occasionally found in Middle Egyptian texts as well.
2s | .tj | often simply ; also in New Kingdom texts

Used for both masculine and feminine. When the suffix is spelled it is usually written before the determinative: for example, pr.t(j) (Sin. B 182) “you have come.” When the verb itself ends in t, the suffix can be omitted, probably because it came next to the t of the verb, without a vowel between, and the combination tt was written with only one t (§ 2.8.2): for example, nḫt.(tj) (Peas. B1, 147) “forceful” (2ms).

3ms | .w | or ; usually not written
|  | This suffix normally appears before the determinative: for example, h.w (ShS. 130) “descended.” The Old Egyptian form was .j; this spelling is occasionally found in older Middle Egyptian texts as well.
3fs | .tj | , often simply ; also in New Kingdom texts
|  | When the suffix is spelled it is usually written before the determinative: for example, mḥ.t(j) (Hamm. 191, 4) “full.” When the verb itself ends in t, the suffix is often omitted, as in the 2s (see above): for example, m(w)t.(tj) (ShS. 38) “dead.”
1pl | .nw | [picture]
| .wjn | [picture]
|  | The original form was .nw, which appears a few times in early Middle Egyptian texts. The suffix .wjn may derive from an original adjectival predicate: e.g., ḥtp.wjn “we are contented,” originally ḥtpwj n “how content we are” (see §§ 7.2–3).
2pl | .tjwnj | [picture]
|  | Used for both masculine and feminine. The bird is the tjw-vulture (G 2, sometimes in the form ), not the -bird (G 1).
3pl | .wj | or , sometimes etc.; also .y; usually not written

The ending is usually written before the determinative: for example, šn.w (Urk. IV, 758, 16) “encircled.” Old Egyptian also had a separate form .tj for the 3fpl, written like the singular, and two dual forms, 3mdu .wjj ( ) and 3fdu .tjj ( ). These older forms rarely appear in Middle Egyptian; most Middle Egyptian texts use the form .wj (or .y) for the third-person plural or dual, masculine or feminine.

Transcriptions of Egyptian words in other ancient languages, survivals of the stative in Coptic, and parallels from related languages (see the end of § 16.1), all give us an idea how the different forms of the stative were actually pronounced. Using the verb ḥtp “become content,” these can be reconstructed as follows (the “accented” vowel á shows which syllable was stressed):

1s | *ḥatpáku | 1pl | *ḥatpánu
2ms | *ḥatpáta | 2mpl | *ḥatpátunu or *ḥatáptunu
2fs | *ḥatpáti | 2fpl | *ḥatpátina or *ḥatáptina
3ms | *ḥátpa (Coptic xotp) | 3pl | *ḥátpu
3fs | *ḥatápta |  |

As you can see, the stative suffixes may have distinguished between masculine and feminine in the second person by vowels, which of course are not visible in hieroglyphs. All the suffixes probably ended in a vowel; this is why their final “weak” consonants (w and j)—which reflect these vocalic endings—are often omitted in writing. These reconstructions are given here to help you appreciate the relationship between the various written forms and the actual spoken forms they were meant to represent.

16.3The stative stem

The base stem is generally used in forming the stative, sometimes the geminated one. The following examples are representative of the forms found in Middle Egyptian texts:

2-lit. | mḥ.(w) (ShS. 116) “full” (3ms)
2ae-gem. | qb.tj (Ebers 37, 3) “cool” (3fs), gnn.tj (Ebers 105, 2) “soft” (3fs). The geminated form reflects either a difference in pronunciation or the geminated stem: i.e., qb.tj for *qabbáta but gnn.tj for *ganánta or *gannánta.
3-lit. | snb.t(j) (ShS. 158) “healthy” (2s)
3ae-inf. | h.w (ShS. 130) “descended” (3ms). The third-person masculine forms (singular and plural) often have a final y instead of the suffix w: for example, hy (Ebers 39, 2) (3ms). In rare cases the geminated stem is used instead of the base: for instance, h.(w) (Ebers 38, 3) (3ms).
3ae-gem. | špss.kw (TPPI § 20, 11) “ennobled” (1s)
4-lit. | pḫd.tj (Smith 4, 14) “inverted” (3fs)
4ae-inf. | ḥms.(w) (Leb. 75) “seated” (3ms). The third-person masculine forms (singular and plural) sometimes have a final y instead of the suffix w: for example, wsy (Bersheh II, 25) “ruined” (3ms).
5-lit. | nd d.tj (Ebers 36, 17) “runny” (3fs)
caus. 2-lit. | sq.t(j) (Peas. B1, 229) “brought in” (3fs)
caus. 2ae-gem. | sšmm (Ebers 76, 8) “heated” (3ms)
caus. 3-lit. | snḫ.t(j) (CG 20001 b 6) “vivified” (3fs)
caus. 3ae-inf. | stn.k(w) (Urk. VII, 2, 11) “distinguished” (1s)
anom. | rdj.t(j) (ShS. 4) (3fs) and dj.t(j) (Sin. B 193) (2ms) “given”; jj.t(j) (ShS. 7) (3fs) and jw.t(j) (Sin. B 257) (2ms) “come.” Like other final-weak verbs, these occasionally have a final y instead of the suffix w in the 3ms and 3pl: for example, dy (Urk. IV, 84, 7) “put” (3pl).

16.4The meaning of the stative

The stative originally expressed completed action, for which English uses the perfect: for example, 3fs šm.tj “she has gone.” For intransitive verbs, there is not much difference between completed action (English she has gone) and the resulting state (English she is gone), and the stative of such verbs can express either completed action or state. For most transitive verbs, however, the stative in Middle Egyptian has lost the original meaning of completed action and can only express state: for example, 3ms qrs.w “he is entombed” but not “he has entombed.”

Like other Middle Egyptian verb forms, the stative has no tense (§ 12.9.1). This means that the state it expresses can be past, present, or future, depending on the context in which it is used: for example, 3fs šm.tj “gone” can mean “she was gone,” “she is gone,” or “she will be gone.” In this respect, šm.tj is like the English participle with which it is translated here: “gone” has no inherent tense; it requires the English verb forms “was,” “is,” and “will be” to indicate whether it is past, present, or future.

Because the stative has no inherent tense, the translations that English forces us to make of it do not really reflect what is going on in Egyptian. There are uses of the stative that require many different English translations. This is because English expresses things differently than Egyptian did, not because the stative has many different meanings. It is important to keep this in mind throughout this lesson.

16.5The stative as a past tense

The stative is still used in Middle Egyptian with its original meaning of completed action primarily for intransitive verbs. In this use it is often translated as an English past, perfect, or even pluperfect: for example,

pr.(w) r pt hnm.n.f m ntrw (Urk. IV, 59, 13–14)

He went up to the sky and joined with the gods.¹

jj.kw m ḥtp (Beni Hasan I, pl. 8, 15)

I have come (back) in peace.

šm.kw r bj n jtj (ShS. 23–24)

I had gone to the mining country for the sire.²

When the verb is transitive, English normally has to use a passive construction to translate the state expressed by the stative, as in the following example:

rdj.kw r pr z-nswt (Sin. B 286)

I was given to the house of a king’s-son.

The only regular exception to this rule is the stative of the transitive verb rḫ, which normally has an object and is translated with the active verb “know”: for instance,

rḫ.kj tn rḫ.k(j) rnw.tn (CT III, 342b)

I know you, I know your names.

The reason for this exception has to do with the basic meaning of rḫ. Although this verb is translated by the English verb “know” in many of its forms, it really means to “experience” or “learn about” something. The stative is translated as “know” because it expresses the state that results from experiencing or learning about something—which, of course, is a state of knowledge. Thus, a sentence such as rḫ.kw rnw.tn really means something like “I have learned your names.” Ancient Egyptian does not actually have a verb that corresponds exactly to the English verb know.

Sometimes, the stative of transitive verbs other than rḫ is used with its original meaning of completed action. In this case, it is active rather than passive: for instance,

wd.k(w) rn.j r bw hr(j) ntr (Sethe, Lesestücke, 75, 17–18)

I have set my name at the place where the god is.³

This kind of active use is a holdover from Old Egyptian. In Middle Egyptian it is not common and occurs mostly in early Middle Kingdom autobiographies that follow the Old Kingdom model. In form and syntax it is no different from the stative that has passive meaning, such as rdj.kw “I was given,” in the fourth example above. Unfortunately, the only way to know whether such a stative should be translated as passive or active is by its context or by the fact that it has an object, such as rn.j “my name” in this example. Almost always, however, the stative of transitive verbs other than rḫ in Middle Egyptian will need to be translated by an English passive.

16.6The stative as a wish or command

The stative with a second-person suffix (singular or plural) can be used to express a wish or command rather than a statement of fact: for instance,

ḥrj.tj r.sn r wj m wj (Himmelskuh, 13)

Be far from them: approach me, see me!

As this example shows, the stative in this use is often best translated as an imperative; it can also be translated as a request (“you should be far”). While the imperative is used to command action, however (“approach,” “see”), the stative is used to command or request a state: thus, ḥrj.tj (from the verb ḥrj “become distant”) means “be far” or “you should be far” (state) rather than “go far away” (action).

This use of the stative is also represented in some common Middle Egyptian idioms, including jj.tj “welcome” (literally, “be come”), snb.tj “farewell” (literally, “be healthy”), and z.tj ḥr or z.tj r “beware of ” (literally, “be guarded about,” “be guarded against”):

j.tj m ḥtp ḫj pr (CT VI, 275t)

Welcome in peace, equipped akh!

snb.t(j) zp 2 nds (ShS. 158)

Farewell, farewell (§ 9.5), mister!

z.tj ḥr ḫsf m nf (Merikare 5, 2)

Beware of punishing wrongly.

16.7The subject of the stative

The examples in §§ 16.5–6 all have a pronominal subject, which is expressed by the stative’s pronominal suffix. When the subject of the stative is a noun or noun phrase, it is placed before the stative itself. This combination is known as the SUBJECT–stative construction: for example,

t q.w r w (Neferti 23)

The land is ruined entirely.

As this example demonstrates, the stative still needs to have a pronominal suffix, which agrees in gender and number with its subject: here, the masculine singular noun t “land” is reflected in the 3ms stative q.w “ruined,” from the verb q “go to ruin.” Note also that the stative tends to be as close to its subject as possible: in this case, q.w stands next to t and before the modifier r w “entirely” (§ 6.7). Similarly,

jtrw šw.(w) nw kmt (Neferti 26)

The river of Egypt is dried up,

where the 3ms stative šw.(w) “dried up” (from the verb šwj “dry up”) stands next to its subject, jtrw “river,” and before the indirect genitive nw kmt “of Egypt.”⁴

This construction is also used for pronominal subjects. In fact, the stative usually has a subject in front of it, except in second-person wishes or commands (§ 16.6) or in dependent clauses (which we will discuss in Lesson 20). When the subject of the stative is a personal pronoun, it is normally introduced by a particle of some sort. In this respect the SUBJECT–stative construction behaves like an adverbial sentence and is used with the same particles (§§ 10.3–5): for example,

jw.f mḥ.(w) hr nfrwt nbt (ShS. 116)

It was full of all good things

m.k wj tp.kw m jnw (Peas. R 26, 4–5)

Look, I am laden with woe,

with statives from the verbs mḥ “fill” and tp (originally tp) “load” as predicates. Like adverbial sentences, too, the stative is used in later Middle Egyptian texts with the subject pronoun as subject (§ 10.5): for instance,

tw.n qb.wjn hr t.n kmt (Helck, HBT, 85)

We are calm in our (part of) Egypt.⁵

As these examples show, the SUBJECT–stative construction is much the same as an adverbial or pseudo-verbal sentence, except that the predicate is a stative instead of an adverb or prepositional phrase. For that reason, Egyptologists often group such sentences with those of the pseudo-verbal construction (Lesson 14); this is not quite accurate, however, since the stative is a real verbal predicate, unlike the pseudo-verbal predicates with preposition plus infinitive.

16.8The SUBJECT–stative construction as a past tense

Although the stative itself is basically the tenseless expression of a state, the SUBJECT– stative construction is regularly used in Middle Egyptian to express the past or perfect tense of intransitive verbs, particularly verbs of motion: for example,

d pr.(w) (ShS. 101–102)

A windstorm came up

m.k wj jj.kw (Westc. 8, 12)

Look, I have come.

As these examples show, the SUBJECT–stative construction can be used, like the stative itself, to describe an action that happened in the past (for which English uses the past tense: “a windstorm came up”) or an action that is viewed as completed (for which English uses the perfect: “I have come”).

When it is used as a past tense, the SUBJECT–stative construction is often introduced by the words ḥ.n, (or ) wn.jn, or wn.ḫr “then,” which we have already met in pseudo-verbal sentences (§ 14.6): for instance,

ḥ.n.(j) h.kw r mryt (ShS. 169)

Then I went down to the shore

wn.jn p smn ḥ.(w) (Westc. 8, 21)

Then that goose stood up

wn.ḫr.j wstn.kw (Davies, Rekhmire, pl. 11, 11–12)

Then I strode forth.

These examples have exactly the same syntax as those with an adverbial or pseudoverbal predicate: that is, the introductory word is followed by a noun or suffix pronoun as subject, and then by the predicate—in this case, the stative rather than an adverb or prepositional phrase.

The use of the SUBJECT–stative construction to express a past or perfect tense is primarily a feature of intransitive verbs; transitive verbs use a different form, which we will meet in the next lesson. When the verb in the construction is transitive, however, English normally requires a passive translation, except for the verb rḫ: for example,

ḥ.n.j rdj.kw r jw jn ww n wd-wr (ShS. 39–41)

Then I was put on (literally, “given to”) an island by a wave of the sea

jw.j rḫ.kw tn … jw.j rḫ.kw rnw.tn (CT V, 223d/i)

I know you … I know your names.

This is the same as when the stative is used by itself, without a preceding subject: compare the fourth and fifth examples in § 16.5. Here too, the stative actually expresses a state, not an action, and has no tense. The first of the two examples just above means something like “then I (was) situated at an island” and the second, “I (am) experienced of your names.”

16.9The stative of adjective verbs

Like an adjectival predicate, the stative of an adjective verb (§ 12.2) describes a quality of its subject: for example,

wn.jn jb.f nfr.(w) r ḫt nbt (Westc. 12, 7–8)

Then his mind was better (i.e., happier) than anything,

where the stative of the verb nfr “become good” describes a quality (goodness, happiness) of the subject jb.f “his mind.”

In English, such predicates have much the same translation as a true adjectival predicate. Compare, for example, the following sentence, with a real adjectival predicate:

wn.jn nfr st ḥr jb.f r ḫt nbt (Peas. B2, 131–32)

Then it was better on his mind than anything.

In Egyptian, however, the two constructions are different, and they involve slightly different connotations as well. While both the adjectival stative and the true adjectival predicate express a quality of their subject, the stative of an adjective verb has the additional nuance of a completed action that produced the quality. Thus, in the two examples given here, the adjectival-predicate construction nfr st means simply “it was good,” while the stative construction jb.f nfr.(w) “his mind was good” implies that the quality “good” has resulted from the prior action of “becoming good.” This is not a distinction that can easily be expressed in English, except by paraphrasing the stative: i.e., jb.f nfr.(w) “his mind had become, and was now, good” vs. nfr st “it was good.”

Even though English usually requires similar translations for an adjectival predicate and the stative of an adjective verb, therefore, you should be aware that there is a subtle difference in meaning between the two constructions in Egyptian.

16.10Uses of the SUBJECT–stative construction

As we have seen in the preceding sections, the SUBJECT–stative construction has essentially the same syntax as that of sentences with an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate. The first two examples in § 16.7 and the first one in § 16.8 demonstrate how this construction can be used without an introductory word. This is particularly common in proper names: for example, jmn-ḥtp.(w) “Amun is content” (Amenhotep), dḥwtj-ms.(w) “Thoth is born” (Thutmose), nfrt-jj.tj “The beautiful one has come” (Nefertiti).

Other examples given above show how the SUBJECT–stative construction is used after the particles jw, m.k, and the words ḥ.n, wn.jn, and wn.ḫr. It is used after other particles as well, which are the same ones used to introduce sentences with an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate: for example,

nḥmn z.f q.(w) r ḥ (Sin. R 70)

His son has surely entered into the palace—cf. § 10.4.3

smwn msḥ pn ḥ.(w) (Westc. 4, 1)

Perhaps this crocodile is dangerous—cf. § 15.6.14

jw ms m(w)tw šw qrs.w m jtrw (Adm. 2, 5)

Truly, many dead are buried in the river—cf. § 17.7.7.

Adverbial or pseudo-verbal sentences are usually introduced by a particle of some sort in Middle Egyptian (§§ 10.3, 14.3), and the same is true for the SUBJECT–stative construction. Examples without such an introductory word are normally possible only when the subject is a noun (or noun phrase), a demonstrative pronoun, or the subject pronoun. When two statements are combined in a single sentence, however, both the introductory word and the subject of the stative can be omitted in the second statement: for example,

jw.j rḫ.kw tn rḫ.kw rnw.tn (CT III, 4e–f G1T)

I know you, and know your names.

This is known as a compound sentence. As the translation shows, it exists in English as well as Egyptian. The second statement in such a sentence is actually another sentence, with its subject omitted. In English the two statements are joined by and; Egyptian, which has no regular word for “and,” simply puts the second statement after the first. The subject can be omitted in the second statement because it is easily understood from the first one (and because it is also expressed by the stative’s pronominal suffix). Such compound sentences are not very common in Egyptian.

Like an adverbial predicate (§ 10.9), the stative can also have its subject omitted after a particle when the subject does not refer to anything in particular: for instance,

m(j) h jm jw nfr.w (CT V, 223d–e)

Come, go down there: it is good.

This use occurs mostly with the stative of adjective verbs, as in this example.

16.11The SUBJECT–stative construction in questions

In questions the SUBJECT–stative construction is normally preceded by the particles jn jw: for example,

jn jw.f trj sdr.(w) (Adm. 12, 5) “Is he really asleep?”

In this use the SUBJECT–stative construction behaves like sentences with an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate (§§ 11.11.2, 14.9).

16.12The SUBJECT–stative construction negated

Like the pseudo-verbal construction (§ 14.8), the SUBJECT–stative construction is rarely negated: instead, it is normally replaced by another verb form in negated sentences. A few examples of the construction after the negative particle nn are attested in Middle Egyptian, however: for instance,

nn sw wn.(w) (Leb. 126–27) “He does not exist,”

literally, “he is not existent,” using the stative of the 2ae-gem. verb wnn “exist.”

16.13Meaning and syntax of the stative: summary

Because Middle Egyptian uses the stative so widely and in so many different ways, the preceding discussion has been of necessity fairly complicated. To help you remember the main points more easily, they can be summarized as follows.

1)Meaning

the stative expresses essentially a state in which its subject is, was, or will be; this is true even when English requires a translation expressing action rather than state

although English requires us to translate the stative with a verb form that expresses tense, the stative has no tense of its own: the tense of the English translation comes from the context in which the stative is used

Egyptian often uses the stative where English requires a verb form expressing past or completed action: this is most often the case with intransitive verbs, but it can also occur with transitive verbs

the second-person stative with no preceding subject can be used to express a wish or command.

2)Voice

the stative is neither active nor passive, although English requires us to translate it one way or the other

for intransitive verbs the stative is normally translated as active (describing the result of a prior action performed by its subject)

the stative of adjective verbs describes a quality that results from a prior action (i.e., acquisition of the quality)

for transitive verbs the stative is normally translated as passive (describing the result of a prior action performed on its subject)

the stative of the transitive verb rḫ normally has an object and is translated as active, with the English verb “know”

the first-person singular stative of other transitive verbs can be active when used as a past tense without a preceding subject.

3)Syntax

the stative is normally used with a subject that is placed before it (SUBJECT– stative), and the stative’s suffix agrees in gender and number with the subject

when the stative is used without a preceding subject, it usually has a 1s suffix and expresses past or perfect action, or a second-person suffix and expresses a wish or command.

ESSAY 16. HERESY

The Egyptian view of the world and its creation, as discussed in Essays 4–5 and 11–15, was fundamental to Egyptian civilization and remained basically unchanged throughout the more than three thousand years of Egyptian history—with one exception. For two decades at the end of the Eighteenth Dynasty, one Egyptian king tried to introduce a different understanding of reality into his country’s culture.

When the pharaoh Amenhotep III died, around 1350 BC, he was succeeded by his son of the same name, whom Egyptologists call Amenhotep IV. Three years into his rule, the new pharaoh made a stunning break with tradition by erecting a new temple within the precinct of the state temple of Amun at Karnak (see Essay 15), decorated in a radically new style of art and dedicated not to Amun but to a new form of the solar god Re-Harakhti (Essay 12). This new god was depicted not as the falcon or falcon-headed man by which Re-Harakhti was traditionally represented but in the image of the solar disk ( jtn) with its life-giving rays extending to earth (see Fig. 13). The god’s name was also given a new form. It was now not simply r-ḥrw-ḫtj “Re-Harakhti” but a much longer name, enclosed in two cartouches like the names of a king:

“The living one (nḫ), Re-Harakhti (r-ḥrw-ḫtj), who becomes active (ḥj) in the Akhet (m ḫt); in his identity as the light (m rn.f m šw) that is in the sun-disk (ntj m jtn).”

Fig. 13. Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and their three oldest daughters (Berlin 14145)

New as he was, this deity was rooted in the theology of the Eighteenth Dynasty, which had placed increasing emphasis on the life-giving role of the sun. In the traditional theology this emphasis was incorporated in the combined form of the god Amun-Re (see Essay 15). Amenhotep IV’s new theology, however, ignored Amun. The sun was now seen not as the physical manifestation of the god Amun but as the vehicle for a new supreme deity, who was not the invisible, unknowable, and transcendent Amun but the visible power of Light. Although the new deity is often called simply jtn or p jtn “the sun-disk,” the disk itself was merely its vehicle, the means through which light comes into the world—much as the sun (r “Re”) had been for the life-giving power of Amun in traditional theology. The image of the solar disk that dominates scenes of the new theology (Fig. 13, below) is not meant as a depiction of the sun but as a hieroglyph, a more elaborate form of the normal hieroglyph for “light” ( ).

In his fifth year on the throne, Amenhotep IV made yet another break with tradition, designed to emphasize even further the supreme status of his new god. He began construction of a new capital city designed to replace both the political capital of Memphis (city of Ptah) and the religious capital of Thebes (associated with Amun). This new city, called Akhetaten (ḫt-jtn “Place where the sun-disk becomes effective”), was built in Middle Egypt, on virgin land that had no previous divine associations. At the same time, the king changed his personal name from Amenhotep (jmn-ḥtp “Amun is Content”) to Akhenaten ( ḫ-n-jtn), meaning “He who is effective (ḫ) for the sun-disk” or “Effective form of the sun-disk.” Egyptologists have named Akhenaten’s capital Tell el-Amarna, after the name of a nearby settlement. The name “Amarna” is used in Egyptological literature to refer not only to the site itself but also to the two-decade period of Akhenaten’s religious experiment.

Although Akhetaten intended to establish the supremacy of the new god, the worship of the traditional gods, including Amun, was still tolerated. Sometime between the ninth and eleventh year of Akhenaten’s rule, however, a new policy came into effect. The god’s name was changed to a new form:

This means “The living one (nḫ), the Sun (r), ruler of the Akhet (ḥq ḫtj), who becomes active (ḥj) in the Akhet (m ḫt); in his identity as the light (m rn.f m ḥjt) that comes in the sun-disk (jjt m jtn).”⁶ This change served two purposes: it removed the reference to Re-Harakhti and substituted the neutral word ḥjt “light” for šw (which was also the name of the god Shu), and it made even clearer the sun-disk’s role as the vehicle, not the origin, of Light. Both these changes were meant to establish Light as not just the supreme god but the only god. This new emphasis was also reflected in a campaign of active persecution against the traditional theology: on monuments throughout Egypt, Akhenaten’s minions began to erase the names of Amun and his consort, Mut, and to change the plural ntrw “gods” to the singular ntr “god.” To judge from later inscriptions, the temples of the older gods may have been closed as well, and their priesthoods disbanded.

Along with his religious reforms Akhenaten also introduced a host of cultural changes. The art of his reign not only has a new style but new subject matter as well: in place of the formal, timeless poses of the king before the gods, it shows Akhenaten and his family in the intimate scenes of everyday life (Fig. 13). Under Akhenaten, the contemporary spoken language began to appear increasingly in writing, an innovation that led eventually to Late Egyptian (§ 1.2). The temples of Akhenaten’s new god were not dark, mysterious buildings housing an inaccessible image of the god but broad courts open to the sunlight. These structures were built not of the massive multi-ton blocks of traditional Egyptian architecture but of small blocks that could be handled by a single workman; Egyptologists call these blocks talatat (an Arabic word, pronounced “TALL-a-tot”). All of these changes reflect Akhenaten’s emphasis on the visible, tangible, here-and-now rather than the more spiritual and timeless forms of traditional Egyptian art.

Despite its emphasis on reality, however, the new artistic style in which Akhenaten’s monuments were decorated also exaggerated the forms of the king and his family (Fig. 13). This last feature was long thought to reflect a physical deformity of the king, but it is now known to have been merely an artistic convention meant to emphasize the difference between the royal family and mere mortals: as the new art matured it became less exaggerated, and images from the end of the king’s reign show him with a normal human physique.

Akhenaten’s immediate family consisted of his mother, Queen Tiya; his chief queen, Nefertiti; their six daughters, the most important of whom were the eldest, Meritaten, and the third oldest, Ankhesenpaaten; a minor queen, named Kiya; and another daughter by her, whose name is not known. Akhenaten’s successors Smenkhkare and Tutankhamun were also from the royal family: the former, perhaps a younger brother of Akhenaten; and the latter, Smenkhkare’s son. Both took daughters of Akhenaten—Meritaten and Ankhesenpaaten, respectively—as their queens.

Toward the end of his reign, Akhenaten elevated a woman to serve as both his queen and his coregent. The identity of this female pharaoh, who had the name Neferneferuaten, has been the subject of much debate. Speculation has centered on Nefertiti, Meritaten, or Akhenaten’s fourth daughter (who was also named Neferneferuaten). Herreign lasted some three years, including perhaps a brief period of sole rule after the death of Akhenaten. She was followed by Smenkhkare, who had a short reign of only a year or less. His successor came to the throne as Tutankhaten, but by his third year on the throne he had abandoned Akhetaten, changed his name to Tutankhamun and that of his wife to Ankhesenamun, and reestablished the worship of Amun and the other traditional gods of Egypt.

Akhenaten’s attempt to establish the worship of a single god did not survive his own reign. After his death there is evidence of an attempt to reconcile his theology with the worship of Amun at Thebes, under the patronage of Neferneferuaten. Tutankhamun reopened the temples with new priesthoods, and an active campaign to dismantle Akhenaten’s monuments began under Haremhab, the last king of Dynasty 18. Eventually even the name of Akhenaten and those of his immediate successors were deleted from official records; later kinglists jump from Amenhotep III directly to Haremhab. When it was necessary to refer to Akhenaten at all, he was mentioned only as “the heretic of Akhetaten.”

Akhenaten’s reforms have been the subject of much speculation, not all of it well considered or well informed. Although the precise meaning and motive of his revolutionary changes are still debated, it now seems clear that Akhenaten did not attempt to establish the kind of monotheism familiar from the Bible or the Qur’an. Instead of promoting a single transcendental god, he emphasized the predominance of a single immanent force of nature, Light. In theological terms this was a step backward from the intellectual progress that had been achieved in the theology of Amun (see Essay 15). More importantly, Akhenaten’s monotheism ran counter to the traditional openness of Egyptian religion. This, more than anything, may have been the reason why Akhenaten’s reforms did not survive him and why later generations of Egyptians considered them to be not a revelation but a heresy.

EXERCISE 16

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (ShS. 10–11)

2. (ShS. 57–59)

3. (ShS. 109-10)

4. (ShS. 174)

5. (Sin. B 21)

6. (Sin. B 45) — for r.j see § 15.7.2

7. (Sin. B 75–76)

8. (Sin. B 131–33)

9. (Sin. B 254–55) — from a story: jtw “overtaken”

10. (Sin. B 264–65) — z-nht “Sinuhe,” a name, meaning “Son of the Sycamore”

11. (Sin. B 292–94)

12. (Peas. B1, 46–47)

13. (Peas. B1, 155–56)

14. (Peas. B1, 337)

15. (Peas. B2, 117)

16. (Westc. 5, 16–17) — mfkt for mfkt “turquoise,” ḥr “in”

17. (Westc. 10, 5)

18. (Westc. 11, 19–20)

19. (Westc. 12, 25–26)

20. (Adm. 8, 2)

21. (Helck, HBT, 92)

22. (Helck, HBT, 96)

23. (Leb. 5) — r.j “for me”

24. (Merikare 3, 11)

25. (Urk. IV, 611, 15–17) — spoken by a god to the king: n m “at seeing,” infinitive; MN-ḪPR-R throne name of Thutmose III

Fig. 14. Ancient Egyptian scribes (Junker, Kaninisut, pl. 12)
The four scribes are writing on writing boards and holding their ink kits in their left hands. Extra pens are tucked in their ears, and before three of them is a container for their documents. The scribes are labeled, left to right, zhw sḥj “Scribe Sahi,” zhw mnḫ-k.(j) “Scribe Menekhkai,” zhw pḥ-r-nfr “Scribe Pehernefer,” and zhw r-ḥtp.(w) “Scribe Rahotep.”

1 hnm.n.f is a verb form we will meet in the next lesson.

2 From the beginning of a story. In the preceding sentence the narrator says “Let me tell you something similar that happened with me,” and the rest of the story follows the sentence cited as an example here. For the spelling of jtj “sire,” see Essay 6.

3 The noun phrase bw hr(j) ntr means literally, “the place that is under the god” (§ 8.8).

4 The spelling of jtrw is irregular. The indirect genitive nw is plural because nouns denoting liquids are often treated as plurals, even when the nouns themselves are singular.

5 Literally, “we are cooled under our (§ 5.10) Egypt.” The spelling of the stative suffix .wjn with the determinatives between wj and n is unusual; it may reflect the possible origin of this suffix in the adjectival-predicate construction qbwj n “how cooled we are” (§ 16.2).

6 The word ḫtj is a nisbe, written as a “false dual.” The writing of the word ḥjt “light” uses the sun hieroglyph as an ideogram; the grouping of the signs in this word is dictated by the need to conserve space in the cartouche.

17.THE SDM.N.F

17.1Definition

The English perfect is a verb form used to express completed action. Most such actions are past from the point of view of the speaker: an example is the sentence Jill has done her homework, where the verb form has done indicates that the action of Jill doing her homework is completed. But an action can be described as completed even if it did not happen in the past: for example, in the English sentence Jack can watch television after he has done his homework, the verb form has done describes the action of Jack doing his homework as completed with respect to the action of the main clause, even though it has yet to happen from the speaker’s point of view.

The perfect does not necessarily have to refer to a past event because it primarily expresses an aspect rather than a tense (§ 12.9.2). As such, it is different from the past tense, which always describes past action: for example, the sentence Jack did his homework can only refer to a past event, not one that has yet to happen.

The Middle Egyptian sdm.n.f is similar to the English perfect. It basically describes completed action and is an aspect, not a tense. In English the perfect has to be marked for tense, like most English verb forms: either as the present perfect (has done), the past perfect (had done), or the future perfect (will have done). The sdm.n.f, however, expresses only aspect, not tense. For that reason, it is translated not only by the English present perfect but sometimes by the other perfect forms, or even by non-perfect verb forms, depending on how it is used.

The sdm.n.f is one of seven verb forms that Egyptologists group into a category called the suffix conjugation. Although the seven forms all have different meanings and uses, they behave alike with regard to their subject and the word order of the clauses they are used in. Verb forms of the suffix conjugation can have a noun (or noun phrase) or pronoun as subject, and this always follows the verb itself. When the subject is a personal pronoun, it is expressed as a suffix pronoun attached directly to the verb form, after any endings or other suffixes: hence the name “suffix conjugation.”

17.2Form

The sdm.n.f is one of the easiest verb forms to recognize. It is always marked by the consonant n (spelled or ) added directly as a suffix to the verb: for example, sdm.n “has heard.” This suffix is attached directly to the stem of the verb itself, before any other suffixes. The subject of the sdm.n.f follows the verb form itself: for example, sdm.n ntr “the god has heard,” sdm.n.f “he has heard.”

Most verb classes use the base stem in the sdm.n.f, with a few exceptions. The following are typical forms found in Middle Egyptian texts:

2-lit. | dd.n.f (Westc. 9, 10) “he has said”
2ae-gem. | mm.n.f (Urk. IV, 17, 8) “he has grasped,” with three radicals, or wr.n.s (Ebers 108, 6) “it has become large,” with two. The verb m “see” normally has two: for example, m.n.j (Westc. 6, 21) “I have seen”; but also three: m.n.k (MuK. 13, 3) “you have seen”
3-lit. | nḥm.n.j (Hatnub 24, 7) “I have taken”
3ae-inf. | jr.n.j (Hatnub 14, 5) “I have done”
3ae-gem. | špss.n.(j) (CG 20512 b 4) “I have become noble”
4-lit. | sksk.n.k (Peas. B1, 348–49) “you destroy”
4ae-inf. | ḫnt.n.(j) (JEA 47, 7, 5) “I have advanced”
caus. 2-lit. | sḫr.n.f (Helck, HBT, 25) “he has felled”
caus. 2ae-gem. | sqbb.n (CT VI, 224r) “has cooled”
caus. 3-lit. | snḫ.n.j (Hatnub 24, 9) “I have caused to live”
caus. 3ae-inf. | sms.n.sn (Westc. 11, 4) “they caused to give birth”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sḫnt.n.f (TPPI, § 20, 4) “he has promoted”

anom.
The verb rdj “give, put” uses either base stem: for instance, rdj.n.j (Hatnub 16, 10), dj.n.j (Amenemhat 1, 6), rdj.n.(j) (L to D, pl. 2, 5), dj.n.(j) (Urk. IV, 223, 10) “I have given.” The verb jwj/jj “come” normally uses the stem jj, rarely the jw stem: for example, jj.n.sn (Adm. 3, 8) “they come,” jw.n.n (Urk. IV, 566, 10) “we have come.” The latter is mostly found in religious texts.

As these examples illustrate, the suffix is regularly written after the determinative. Sometimes, however, it is placed before the determinative, particularly with verbs whose stem ends in n: for instance, (Peas. Bt 29) as well as qn.n.f (Peas. B1, 25) “it extended.”

The 3ae-inf. verb jnj “get, fetch” which has no determinative, normally has two signs in the sdm.n.f, the first of which is a phonetic complement of the biliteral sign used to write the verb’s stem (§ 3.1): i.e., jn.n.j (CT I, 275f T2C) “I have fetched.” Occasionally, however, only the suffix is written: jn.n.j (Amenemhat 3, 2) “I have fetched.” When the sdm.n.f of jnj has an unwritten 1s suffix pronoun and is followed immediately by the dative (§ 13.6), often only two signs are written, one for the sdm.n.f suffix and the other for the preposition n of the dative: for example, jn.n.(j) n.k (CT I, 275f T1C) “I have fetched for you.” When the suffix pronoun is written out, however, the normal spelling is used: jn.n.j n.k (CT I, 275f T2C) “I have fetched for you.” A spelling such as jn.n.(j) n.k is avoided because Egyptian normally reserves three signs in a row for the word or determinative mw “water.”

17.3The meaning of the sdm.n.f

As noted above, the sdm.n.f expresses basically the aspect of completed action. Even though most instances of the sdm.n.f have to be translated by an English verb form denoting past action (the English perfect and past tense), the sdm.n.f itself has no tense: it can express completed action not only in the past, but also in the present or even the future, as we will see in the course of this lesson. In each case, the sdm.n.f denotes only completion; the tense with which the sdm.n.f has to be translated in English comes from the context in which it is used, not from the form itself.

Egyptian has two forms that express completion: the stative and the sdm.n.f. As we saw in the last lesson, the stative describes the state of being that results from a completed action. This is so even in cases where English grammar forces us to translate the stative by a verb form expressing action. The sdm.n.f, on the other hand, expresses completed action. This distinction can be difficult for English speakers to appreciate, because modern English allows only the expression of completed action for most verbs, transitive or intransitive: for example, The train has reached the station (transitive) and The train has arrived (intransitive). The common English verb go is one of the few that still allows for the distinction between completed action and state: for example, The train has gone (action) and The train is gone (state)—but not *The train is arrived.

Unlike English, Egyptian can make the distinction between state (the stative) and completed action (the sdm.n.f) for most if not all of its verbs. Nevertheless, Egyptian prefers the stative when the verb is intransitive and the sdm.n.f when it is transitive. This preference means that the stative and the sdm.n.f often act as counterparts of each other: intransitive verbs use the stative where transitive verbs normally use the sdm.n.f, and vice versa; for example,

ḫnt.kw pḥ.n.j bw

ḫd.kw pḥ.n.j mḥt (Hatnub 14, 6)

I have gone upstream and reached Elephantine;

I have gone downstream and reached the Delta,

with the intransitive verbs ḫntj “go upstream” and ḫdj “go downstream” in the stative and the transitive verb pḥ “reach” in the sdm.n.f.

Despite this general preference, however, Egyptian could on occasion use the stative of a transitive verb, as we saw in the last lesson, or the sdm.n.f of an intransitive one. Like the sdm.n.f of transitive verbs, that of intransitive verbs expresses completed action: for example,

jw ḫnt.n.(j) r ḥt (JEA 47, 7, 5)

I have advanced to the fore,

with the sdm.n.f of the intransitive verb ḫntj used after the particle jw.¹ The difference between ḫnt.n.j and ḫnt.kw cannot be expressed in English, but it exists in Egyptian nonetheless: the former expresses completed action; the latter, the state resulting from that completed action.

It is important to remember that the sdm.n.f always expresses completed action, particularly when you encounter the sdm.n.f of an intransitive verb. When an adjective verb (which is always intransitive) is used in the sdm.n.f, it expresses the acquisition of a quality rather than the quality itself (which is expressed by the adjective or by the stative). Thus, a form such as špss.n.(j), for example, means “I have become noble,” not “I have been noble.”

17.4Subject, object, and word order in clauses with the sdm.n.f

As noted in § 17.2, in the sdm.n.f the verb normally precedes its subject. This word order, with the verb first, is the opposite of that with which we have become familiar in clauses that have a pseudo-verbal or stative predicate, but it is the normal order for clauses with a verbal predicate in Middle Egyptian. The VsdoSOA rule we met in our discussion of the infinitive (§ 13.6) applies to all clauses with a verbal predicate. Examples with the sdm.n.f are:

rdj.n.j ḥknw n mntw (Sin. B 141–42)

I gave praise to Montu (VsOA)

sj.n wj mjtn(w) (Sin. R 50)

The scout recognized me (VoS)

mz.n.j n.f jnw pn (ShS. 175)

I presented this cargo to him (VsdO).

ḥ.n rdj.n.f n.sn st (Siut I, 293)

Then he gave it to them (Vsdo)

ḥ.n w.n n.f z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f wj.fj (Westc. 8, 1)

Then King’s Son Hardedef extended his arms to him (VdSO).

Note that when the object is a personal pronoun the dependent form is used (wj “me,” st “it”).

This word order applies not only to the sdm.n.f but to the other forms of the suffix conjugation as well. When the subject is a long noun phrase, however, Egyptian tends to put it before the verb; in such cases the preposed (“put in front”) subject is also repeated after the verb by a personal pronoun: for example,

ky(w) sbjw sḫr.n.sn rw.sn n sndw.f (Neferti 62–63)

Those who plotted rebellion, they have lowered their voices for fear of him.²

Here the subject is the phrase before sḫr.n.sn rw.sn (literally, “they have caused their mouths to fall”); it is repeated by the suffix pronoun of sḫr.n.sn. In most cases the preposed subject is a fairly long noun phrase, as in this example. A shorter subject, however, can be preposed for stylistic reasons, or to focus attention on it: for instance,

wgg s.n.f wj (Sin. B 168–69)

Feebleness, it has overtaken me.

Preposing an element of the clause in order to focus attention on it is known as topicalization. This can be done simply by putting the topicalized element first in the clause: for example,

jnw nb nfr n rtnw jf.n.j st r w (Helck, HBT, 93)

All the good produce of Retjenu, I have plundered it completely.

Here the initial noun phrase jnw nb nfr n rtnw “all the good produce of Retjenu” is the object, repeated by the dependent pronoun st after the verb jf.n.j “I have plundered.” Topicalized elements can also be marked by the initial preposition jr “as for”: for instance,

jr grt ḫt nb wd.n ḥm.f jr.(j) n.f st jw jr.n.(j) st (JNES 19, fig. 1, 8–9)

Moreover, as for everything His Incarnation commanded I do for him, I have done it.³

In this example, the topicalized noun phrase ḫt nb wd.n ḥm.f jr.(j) n.f st “everything His Incarnation commanded I do for him” is the object, and is repeated by the dependent pronoun st as object of the verb jr.n.(j) “I did.” Note that English grammar also allows for topicalization in the same way that Egyptian does, as can be seen in the translations of these examples.

17.5The sdm.n.f with unexpressed subject

As we have seen in earlier lessons, the 1s suffix pronoun can be omitted in writing, and this is also true when it is the subject of the sdm.n.f. The 1s suffix is often unwritten when it is followed immediately by the 1s dependent pronoun wj as the verb’s object: for example,

ḥ.n rdj.n.(j) wj ḥr ht.j (ShS. 161)

Then I put myself on my belly.

The reason for this is probably the fact that the 1s suffix was simply the vowel i (§ 5.3). Although it is usually represented by the seated man, it is often omitted when followed by the dependent pronoun wj probably because the latter was pronounced together with the verb form as a single word, and the suffix pronoun was heard simply as a vowel between the two consonants n and w: e.g., rdj.n.(j) wj for *radíniwa.

Even when it is not the first-person singular, the subject of the sdm.n.f can be unexpressed if it is clear from the context. Normally this feature is an option only when the subject has been mentioned previously—for example, in a compound sentence (§ 16.10):

jw.jn r.f sḫtj pn r spr n.f 4nw zp

gm.n sw ḥr prt m sb n ḥwt-ntr (Peas. B1, 225–26)

So, this peasant came to appeal to him a fourth time

and found him emerging from the gate of the temple.⁴

Here the subject of gm.n in the second clause is unexpressed because it has already been mentioned in the first clause (sḫtj pn “this peasant”), just as the English translation omits it for the same reason (“and found”). The subject can also be unexpressed if it does not refer to anything in particular, corresponding to the English “dummy” subject it: for instance,

ḫpr.n r.s nn wj ḥn(w) (ShS. 130)

It happened when I was not with them.⁵

Sometimes the sdm.n.f with an unexpressed subject has a special form in which its suffix is written nj. Like other examples with unexpressed subject, this form is used only when the subject has been mentioned in a previous clause: for instance,

pr.n n m ḫt …

m.nj nn wj m ḥr(j) jb.sn (ShS. 130–31)

Those went up in fire …

They burnt up when I was not in their midst.⁶

This special form of the sdm.n.f suffix is related to the regular sdm.n.f suffix n in the same way that the prepositional adverb nj is related to the preposition n (§ 8.2.6). Since the prepositional adverb can also be spelled simply , it is possible that all examples of the sdm.n.f without a subject also had the same special form of the suffix: thus, perhaps, gm.n(j) and ḫpr.n(j) in the second and third examples of this section. For the first-person singular, however, the subject is unwritten, not unexpressed: thus, the first example in this section is rdj.n.(j), not rdj.n(j).

17.6The sdm.n.f with the suffix tw

The impersonal pronoun tw (§ 14.5) can also be used as the subject of the sdm.n.f. In such cases it behaves like a suffix pronoun: for example,

jr.n.t(w) n.j ḥtpwt (CT IV, 134c)

One has made offerings for me (or “Offerings have been made for me”).

In this example, the sdm.n.f with the suffix tw can be translated either as an active form with the impersonal subject “one” or as a passive. In many cases, however, the suffix tw is used to make a real passive form of the sdm.n.f: for example,

rdj.n.tw n.j nn n tww jn nn n ḥwnwt (CT II, 389b)

Those winds have been given to me by those girls.

Here the prepositional phrase jn nn n ḥwnwt “by those girls” shows that the noun phrase nn n tww “those winds” is the subject of rdj.n.tw and not its object (the translation “one has given me those winds by those girls” makes no sense). When the verb form used in this way has a personal pronoun as its subject, the pronoun is attached as a suffix pronoun after the suffix tw: for instance,

qd.n.tw.k n ḥb (Sethe, Lesestücke, 87, 2)

You have been built for a festival.

In this case the suffix pronoun .k can only be the subject of the verb, since the dependent form of the personal pronoun is used as direct object (§ 17.4).

17.7The sdm.n.f expressing completed action

The sdm.n.f is often used to denote an action that is viewed as completed from the standpoint of the speaker: for example, a past action viewed as completed in the present. In this it is similar to the English present perfect, with which it is often translated. One very common example of this meaning occurs in royal hieroglyphic inscriptions, in the formula dj.n.(j) n.k “I have given to you.” This formula occurs in scenes of the king before a god or goddess, recording the deity’s recitation (dd-mdw: § 13.9) to the king (see the last one of this lesson’s exercises). The following is an example of the formula addressed to the female pharaoh Hatshepsut:

dd-mdw jn ḥwt-ḥrw mjwt-ntr nbt pt ḥnwt ntrw

dj.n.(j) n.t nḫ dd ws nb (Urk. IV, 303, 16–17)

Recitation by Hathor, the god’s mother, lady of the sky, mistress of the gods:

I have given you all life, stability, and authority.

In such cases the action of “giving” is expressed as completed from the point of view of the deity who speaks the words.

For transitive verbs the sdm.n.f is the normal form used to express a past action as completed from the speaker’s point of view. Although it can appear without an introductory particle (as in the formula just discussed), the sdm.n.f is often introduced by the particles m.k or jw: for example,

m.k pḥ.n.n hnw (ShS. 2–3)

Look, we have reached home

jty nḫ.(w)-(w)d.(w)-s(nb.w) nb.j jw jn.n.j ddj (Westc. 8, 8)

Sire lph,⁷ my lord, I have fetched Djedi.

In each of these examples the speaker reports the action as completed from his point of view. Each action—“reaching,” “fetching”—took place before the sentence was spoken and is therefore past from the standpoint of the speaker. The speaker, however, is not reporting it as an historical past event but as an action that has been completed from the viewpoint of the present, at the time the sentence is spoken. The aspect of completion is more important than the fact that the actual action took place in the past: the sdm.n.f denotes completion, not tense.

Since the sdm.n.f does not express tense, it can also be used to describe an action as completed from the viewpoint of another action or situation. When that point of reference is in the past, the sdm.n.f corresponds to the English past perfect tense (“had done”): for example,

r s msyt pw ḫw ḫpr.(w)

šzp.n.j wnwt nt nfr jb (Amenemhat 1, 11–12)

It was after supper, when evening had come,

and I had started the hour of relaxation.⁸

Here šzp.n.j expresses the action of “starting (literally, “receiving”) the hour of relaxation” as completed in the past, “after supper, when evening had come.”

17.8Actions contrary to fact

In English the past perfect can be used not only to describe an action that is viewed as completed in the past but also to express one that never happened at all. Middle Egyptian uses its sdm.n.f in the same way; for example, after the particle ḥ (§ 16.6.12):

ḥ r.f jr.n.j ḫrw.j m tj t (Adm. 6, 5)

If only I had used (literally, “made”) my voice at that moment!⁹

Such uses are known as “contrary to fact.” They express the action of the verb as completed from the standpoint of a hypothetical past action or situation (the speaker never actually used his voice).

The same hypothetical relationship underlies the use of the sdm.n.f in sentences where it is translated by a form of the English future perfect (“would have done”). Such sentences are often marked as contrary to fact by the particle (§ 15.7.1): for example,

jr šzp.j st ḫw m drt.j

jw dj.n.j ḫt ḥmw (Amenemhat 2, 3)

If I had just received it (with) weapons in my hand,

I would have made the cowards retreat.¹⁰

This sentence refers to an attack in which the speaker was taken by surprise, without weapons to defend himself. The form jw dj.n.j expresses the action of “making the cowards retreat” as completed with respect to the action of the first clause, šzp.j “I received.” Since that action is marked as hypothetical by the particle , however, the completed action expressed by the sdm.n.f is contrary to fact (the speaker never actually “made the cowards retreat”).

There are not many examples of the sdm.n.f used to express an action contrary to fact, and most of them are marked in some way—such as by the particles ḥ or —to distinguish them from normal statements of completed action.

17.9The sdm.n.f as a past tense

As we saw in § 17.7, the sdm.n.f often denotes a past action, although it expresses that action as completed rather than as a past event. To express an action as a past event, English uses the past tense rather than one of its perfect tenses: for example, Jack did his homework. Middle Egyptian, however, has no regular past tense form: instead, it uses the sdm.n.f for this function.¹¹ Like the stative of intransitive verbs (§ 16.5), the sdm.n.f of transitive verbs is used not only to denote completed action but also to express an action as a past event: for example,

ḥ.n.j šm.kw rdj.n.(j) wj ḥr ḫt qt (ShS. 155–56)

Then I went and I put myself on a high tree.

Here rdj.n.j “I put” in the second clause, like the stative in the first clause, expresses the action of the verb as a past event. Even though the basic meaning of the form is still that of completed action, a translation with the English present perfect is impossible in this case (*“Then I went, and I have put myself on a high tree”).

When the sdm.n.f is used as a past tense it can be the first word in the sentence or clause, as in the last example, but more often it is preceded by a particle or an introductory word, as it is when it expresses completed action. Examples introduced by m.k usually express completed action (translated by the English perfect: see the second example in § 17.7), but jw often introduces the sdm.n.f as a past tense, as in the following example from a story:

jw wp.n.f r.f r.j (ShS. 81)

He opened his mouth toward me.

Most often, however, the sdm.n.f used as a past tense is introduced by ḥ.n. We have already met this word introducing sentences with a pseudo-verbal or stative predicate (§§ 14.6, 16.8). In those constructions, ḥ.n is followed by a suffix pronoun or a noun (or noun phrase or demonstrative pronoun), which is the subject of the pseudoverbal or stative predicate. When it introduces the sdm.n.f, however, ḥ.n precedes the verb form itself, since the subject normally follows the verb. The difference can be seen in the following example:

ḥ.n.s šm.tj r jkn n.s nhj n mw

ḥ.n jt.n sj msḥ (Westc. 12, 25–26)

Then she went to scoop up for herself a little water.

Then a crocodile took her.

Sentences with a pseudo-verbal or stative predicate can also be introduced by wn.jn, but this word is hardly ever used with the sdm.n.f. Like ḥ.n, however, it is followed by the verb form itself, not by its subject: for example,

wn.jn ḫn.n sdb.f ḥr mw (Peas. Bt 34–35)

So, its fringe landed on the water.¹²

Both ḥ.n and wn.jn are used with the sdm.n.f only when it denotes a past event, not when it expresses completed action. After the particles jw and m.k, or without an introductory word, the sdm.n.f can have either meaning; in this case the context usually indicates which meaning is intended. Some passages, however, lend themselves to a translation with either the English present perfect or the past tense. This is often the case in biographies, where an official describes his deeds: for example,

jw dj.n.(j) t n ḥqr ḥbsw n ḥt(j)w (CG 20003 a 6)

I have given bread to the hungry and clothes to the naked—or

I gave bread to the hungry and clothes to the naked.

In such cases, however, the ambiguity exists only in the English translation: in Egyptian the sdm.n.f is a single verb form, regardless of its use.

17.10The sdm.n.f of rḫ “know”

In the last lesson we saw how the stative of the verb rḫ “experience, learn” corresponds to the English verb “know” because it denotes the state (knowledge) that results from experiencing or learning about something (§ 16.5). The sdm.n.f of this verb also corresponds to the English verb “know,” because it expresses the action of experiencing or learning about something as completed: for example,

m.n.j fdt nt sj rḫ.n.j jmt.s (CT I, 160b–c)

I have seen the box of Sia, and I know what is in it,¹³

literally (and perhaps better in this case), “I have learned what is in it.” Although both the stative and the sdm.n.f of rḫ mean “know,” the latter seems to be used when the action of learning or experiencing something is more important than the resulting state of knowledge—as it is here.

17.11The negated sdm.n.f

In Middle Egyptian the sdm.n.f is often used after the negation nj. Like the sdm.n.f itself, the negated sdm.n.f is tenseless. Although it expresses the negation of completed action, however, in this use it is not equivalent to the English perfect or past tense. Instead, it normally corresponds to the present tense in English, denoting the negation of action, ability, or necessity, either as something that is generally true or as something that is true only at the moment of speaking: for example,

nj nm.n ḫwd m pr.f (Merikare 4, 8)

He who is rich in his house does not show partiality—or

He who is rich in his house does not have to show partiality¹⁴

m.k wj ḥr spr n.k nj sdm.n.k st (Peas. B2, 113–14)

Look, I am appealing to you and you can’t hear it—or

Look, I am appealing to you and you don’t hear it.

As the last example shows, the negated sdm.n.f serves as the negative counterpart of the pseudo-verbal construction with ḥr plus the infinitive, which is normally not negated itself (§ 14.8).

As we saw above (§ 17.3), Egyptian normally uses the stative of intransitive verbs as the counterpart of the sdm.n.f of transitive verbs. After the negative particles nj or nn, however, the sdm.n.f of intransitive verbs is used, not the stative: for example,

nj spr.n zp hz r dmj (Peas. B1, 356–57)

An unworthy cause cannot arrive at the harbor (i.e., cannot succeed).

This is because the negated sdm.n.f expresses action, not state: “cannot arrive, does not arrive,” not “is not in a state of arrival.” The stative is negated only in the SUBJECT–stative construction, and even there only rarely (§ 16.11).

Examples of the sdm.n.f with the suffix tw are also common after the negative, as in

jw ms ḥjmwt wšr.(w) nj jwr.n.tw (Adm. 2, 4)

Surely, women are barren: no one can conceive,

literally, “one cannot conceive” or “one does not conceive” (from a description of adverse times). Most examples of the sdm.n.f without an expressed subject also occur in negations: for instance,

ḫnmsw nw mjn nj mr.nj (Leb. 104)

Friends nowadays, they do not love.

In this case the subject ḫnmsw nw mjn “the friends of now” has been topicalized; in place of the usual suffix pronoun repeating the subject after the verb, the subject of the verb is omitted and the verb has the special form of the sdm.n.f suffix that is used when the subject is omitted (§ 17.5).

Although it is normally translated with the present tense, as these examples show, the negated sdm.n.f can be used in contexts that require a past tense in the English translation: for example,

wn.jn.s ḥr dbn t t nj gm.n.s bw jrrw st jm (Westc. 12, 3)

So, she was going around the room, (but) she couldn’t find the place in which it was being done.¹⁵

Despite the past reference of such examples, however, the construction still denotes the negation of action or ability (“she couldn’t find”), not the negation of a past event (“she didn’t find”). Egyptian uses a different negation for the latter, which we will meet in the next lesson.

If it seems odd that the negated sdm.n.f has a different translation than the sdm.n.f elsewhere, you should remember that the sdm.n.f expresses the aspect of completion and not a tense. Its negation therefore denotes the negation of completion, not the negation of completed or past action. An expression such as nj sdm.n.k actually means something like “you do not complete hearing”: therefore, “you do not hear” or “you cannot hear.” Similarly, nj gm.n.s in a past context means something like “she did not complete finding”: therefore, “she could not find” or “she was not finding.”

The sdm.n.f can also be negated by nn. This construction is much less common than the normal negation with nj, and seems to denote future inability: for instance,

wnf jb n hrw r w.f nn grg.n.f pr (Ptahhotep 382–83)

The one who is frivolous for the whole day, he will not be able to establish a house.¹⁶

17.12The sdm.n.f in questions

There are two kinds of questions with a verbal predicate: those in which the action of the verb itself is questioned, and those in which some other element is questioned. An English example of the first kind of question is Has Jack done his homework?; an example of the second kind is When did Jack do his homework?. The first kind of question can be called a predicate question; the second, an adjunct question.

For the most part, English treats both kinds of questions alike. In Egyptian, however, they are treated differently. When the sdm.n.f is used in a predicate question, it is usually preceded by the particles jn jw, less often by jn alone: for example,

jn jw srwḫ.n.k tj (CT V, 102g)

Have you treated the two limbs?

jn d.n.k n.j zj (CT V, 115c)

Have you ferried a man for me?

The negated sdm.n.f can also be used in a predicate question, in which case it is introduced by the interrogative particle jn: for example,

jn nj hn.n.tn (Westc. 5, 19)

Can’t you row?

In an adjunct question, the sdm.n.f is normally the first word in the sentence:

j.n.tn tn(j) (JEA 31, pl. 3a, 14)

Where have you come (from)?

jr.n.k r.s mj jšst (CT V, 96b M2C)

So, how did you do (it)?¹⁷

literally, “you have come where?” and “you did (it) like what?” (see §§ 5.11, 8.13, 10.10).

ESSAY 17. PHONOLOGY AND WRITING

Lessons 1–3 introduced us to the fundamental principles of Egyptian phonology and writing. Throughout succeeding lessons, however, we have also encountered many unusual spellings of Egyptian words, where the relationship between the hieroglyphs and the words they represent is not immediately evident from the basic principles alone. These exceptional writings illustrate two tendencies that were constantly at odds with each other in the minds of the ancient scribes: on the one hand, the tendency to preserve older, “etymological” spellings of words; and on the other, the tendency to reflect the contemporary pronunciation of words in their spelling. In this respect Middle Egyptian writing is comparable to that of modern American English, which illustrates the same conflict in words such as light vs. lite and through vs. thru. While English spellings such as these are mostly relegated to the world of advertising, others have become a standardized part of the written language: examples are the words honor and medieval, which have been simplified from the older, etymological spellings honour and mediaeval (still used in British publications).

We have now reached the point in our studies where we can examine Middle Egyptian spelling in more detail. As we have already seen in § 2.8, most exceptional spellings involve sounds that were lost or altered between the time of the Old Kingdom, when hieroglyphic writing was first standardized, and the Middle Kingdom, when Middle Egyptian became the standard written language. Etymologically, most Egyptian words began and ended with a consonant—with the probable exception of some shorter words such as j “oh” (probably just *a), and some pronominal suffixes, as we have seen in the stative (§ 17.2). Within words, syllables also began with a single consonant and ended either with a vowel or a single consonant—i.e., either CV or CVC. Clusters of more than one consonant were possible only when two CVC syllables came together: for example, the feminine adjective nfrt “good,” probably pronounced *náfrat (CVC–CVC); the masculine form nfr had the structure CV–CVC (probably *náfir).

With the loss of some consonants in pronunciation, however, many Middle Egyptian words began or ended with a vowel rather than a consonant. Thus, for example, the loss of the feminine ending t and syllable-final r (§ 2.8.4) meant that was pronounced *náfra (CVC–CV) and something like *náfi (CV–CV). The hieroglyphic system had no regular way of indicating such vocalic endings. In writing these words, scribes could ignore the sound changes and use the traditional spelling—in the same way that standard English still writes light even though the gh sound is no longer pronounced. Often, however, a scribe would attempt to “modernize” the spelling. A final vowel could be indicated in various ways:

by omitting the lost consonant: e.g., for older ; or for older

by spelling the word as if it had originally had a final j (§ 2.4): for example, tj for the particle tr (§ 15.7.11). For a lost final r (as in this word), older and newer spellings were often combined, as in trj (i.e., tr > tj).

by adding the “curl w” to the end of the word: for example, for older This method probably originated in the masculine plural ending of nouns, which was simply a vowel (*u).

The use of an extra “curl w” was especially common in hieratic texts; it increased in use over time and is very often found in New Kingdom texts, even those in hieroglyphic.

The loss of the feminine ending t was not universal: when a feminine word had a suffix, or was combined in pronunciation with a following word beginning with a vowel, the feminine ending was preserved. This gave rise to spellings such as for the name nfrt-j.tj “Nefertiti” (§ 17.9), which contemporary transcriptions in cuneiform (the wedge-shaped writing of Mesopotamia) show was pronounced something like *naftíta (originally *nafratíta). To indicate that it was preserved in pronunciation, the ending t was sometimes written with a second t (or t) or with an extra “curl w” before a suffix pronoun: for example, jzwt.tn (ShS. 7) for jzwt.n “our crew,” jntw.f (Westc. 8, 3) for jnt.f “it should fetch” (a verb form).

Egyptologists are divided about how to represent such phonetic spellings. Some ignore them and transcribe the words as if they were written normally; the feminine ending with an extra “curl w” is sometimes transcribed with the special sign ṱ. In this book, words are usually represented as they are written: omitted consonants are added in parentheses, and the “curl w” is transcribed: thus, nf(r) and nfrw.

Phonetic spellings are particularly common in the writings of foreign names or loan words borrowed from other languages. To write such words Egyptian scribes often employed a system known as group writing. In this system, foreign words could be spelled out by using similar-sounding Egyptian words. We do much the same thing when we indicate the pronunciation of unfamiliar words by using common English words: for example, “PARE-a-dime” for paradigm.

Two systems of group writing are known from Egyptian texts, one used in the Middle Kingdom and the other in the New Kingdom. The Middle Kingdom system was primarily “alphabetic,” with the occasional addition of biliteral signs or short Egyptian words for CVC and CV syllables. The uniliteral signs generally had the same values as in Egyptian words, with the following special conventions: doubled consonants (CC) could be written twice; or was used for a syllable beginning or ending with a vowel; or was used for y at the beginning of words as well as for y in the middle or end ( almost never occurs at the beginning of Egyptian words); normally represented the consonant l or was used for d as well as r (the latter also as , from the Egyptian word *ra “mouth”); is used for l as well as n; and the “curl w” was used to indicate a syllable or word ending in a vowel. Some examples of foreign names written in this system are:

y-mt (Sethe, Ächtung, f 9) for Yarmut, the name of a city southwest of Jerusalem; the Egyptian word m(w)t “death” is used for the second syllable

jb-š (Beni Hasan I, pl. 30) for Abi-šar, a Canaanite name meaning “My Father is King”; the Egyptian word š “marsh” is used for the second part of the name

jk-zp-j (Posener, Princes, 70) for Aksapi, the name of a city west of Galilee (Biblical Achsaph); the Egyptian word zp “time, occasion” is used for the second syllable

ḫn-dr for Ḫanzir, the name of a pharaoh of Dynasty 13 (Khendjer; the name is Semitic, meaning “wild boar”); the Egyptian preposition dr “since” is used for the second syllable

y-tn-hddw (Posener, Princes, 66) for Yattin-Haddu, an Amorite name meaning “Haddu (a god) Has Given”; the Egyptian word tn(j) “distinct” is used for the second syllable

prw-js-jpj (Posener, Princes, 71) for Abdu-As’api, a Canaanite name meaning “Servant of Asaph”; the Egyptian word prw “equipped” is used for the first part of the name.

By the New Kingdom, the practice of using short Egyptian words in group writing had been largely abandoned in favor of a new system based on CV syllables. Where possible, these syllables were written with biliteral signs; the final vowel was represented by , (less often ), and or. The consonant l was no longer written with but as . This system was used not only for spelling out foreign names, as in the Middle Kingdom, but also for writing the many loan words that had come into Egyptian from Semitic languages to the East. The following are some typical examples of the New Kingdom system of group writing:

j-ywj-r (LES 74, 5) for ayyala “stag” (Hebrew ayyal)

yw-mj (LES 76, 12) for yamma “sea, lake” (Arabic and Hebrew yam)

bw-nr (HO 75, vo. 6) for balla “outside” (Arabic barra)

mj-r-k-bw-tj (KRI II, 249, 13) for markabata “chariot” (Arabic markabatu)

s-r-qw (KRI I, 12, 10) for thalgu “snow” (Arabic thalg)

š-r-mj (KRI IV, 19, 3) for šalama “peace” (Arabic salam, Hebrew šalom)

t-r (LEM 22, 3) for tilla “mound” (Arabic tell, Hebrew tel); the Egyptian word t “bread” is used to write the CV group ti.

Such loanwords, like the system used to write them, first appear in texts of the late Second Intermediate Period, and are mostly found in the New Kingdom and later. They are also much more frequent in Late Egyptian texts than in those written in Middle Egyptian.

The attempt to reflect the actual pronunciation of words, both native Egyptian and foreign, is one of the more interesting features of ancient Egyptian writing, because it gives us a few clues to how the language actually sounded. While it can sometimes make the reading of hieroglyphic texts more difficult, particularly for beginners, it is also a nice reminder that Egyptian is not just a curious artifact of ancient history but a language that was once spoken and written by real people.

EXERCISE 17

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (Peas. B1, 105–107)

2. (Kahun, pl. 31, 19–20) — ḥtw a name

3. (JEA 33, 7, 7–8) — from an autobiography

4. (Helck, HBT, 21)

5. (Sin. B 34–35) — nn “this,” meaning “here”

6. (Kahun, pl. 30, 41)— from a letter: rn.f-snb and z-nb are names (see § 4.15); for the measurements, see § 9.7.4

7. (Peas. R 11, 2–3)

8. (Sin. R 19–20)

9. (Sin. R 41–42) — jnbw-ḥq “The Ruler’s Walls,” the name of a frontier fort (§ 4.15)

10. (Sin. B 143–44)

11. (Westc. 6, 23–24)

12. (Merikare 6, 11)

13. (Sin. R 70–71)

14. (Leb. 83–84)

15. (Amenemhat 2, 7) — p “ever do” (literally, “do in the past”) uses the infinitive as its object

16.Transcribe and translate the texts in the scene to the right, which shows Amenhotep III receiving life from Amun-Re (LD III, 72) — nb-mt-r “Nebmaatre” (“Lord of the Sun’s Maat”); n ht.f “bodily” (literally, “belonging to his body”); mr.f “his beloved”; (n)swyt “kingship”

1 Despite the difference in translation, ḫntj in this passage is the same verb as that in the preceding example. The verb ḫntj means basically “go forward”: when it is used of travel it means “go upstream” (on the Nile) or “go south” because the Egyptians oriented themselves facing south (see Essay 2).

2 ky(w) “those who plotted” is a participle, a verb form we will meet in Lesson 23.

3 wd.n ḥm.f jr.(j) n.f st, literally “which His Incarnation commanded I do it for him,” has the relative sdm.n.f form (wd.n), which we will consider in Lesson 22. The word jr.(j) “I do” is a verb form we will meet in the next lesson.

4 jw.jn is a verb form we will meet in Lesson 19.

5 r.s is a less common form of the enclitic particle jr.f/r.f (§ 15.7.2); nn wj ḥn(w) is a negated sentence with adverbial predicate (§§ 8.2.9, 8.15), serving as a dependent clause.

6 Here too the adverbial sentence nn wj m ḥr(j) jb.sn, literally “I was not one upon their heart,” serves as a dependent clause; ḥr(j) is a prepositional nisbe (§§ 8.6–7).

7 For “life, prosperity, health” (see § 20.9.2).

8 From a narrative. The first line is an A pw sentence with the prepositional phrase r s msyt “after supper” (literally, “at the back of supper”) as A. The SUBJECT–stative construction ḫw ḫpr.(w), literally, “evening (had) evolved,” is used as a dependent clause. The term nfr jb “relaxation” means literally “goodness of mind.”

9 For r.f see § 15.7.2. It refers here to a situation described in previous sentences.

10 Literally, “If I just () received it, weapons in my hand, I have given that the cowards retreat.” In the first clause, šzp.j “I received” is a verb fom we will discuss in the next lesson; the pronoun st “it” is it object, and refers to an attack (mentioned in a previous sentence). The second clause, with an adverbial predicate, is a dependent clause. In the third clause, ḫt ḥmw “that the cowards retreat” is a verb form used as complement of dj.n.j; we will meet this construction in Lesson 21.

11 In this respect, Middle Egyptian is similar to modern French and German. In these languages too, the perfect is used both for completed action and to report a past event: for example, j’ai trouvé (French) and ich habe gefunden (German) mean both “I have found” and “I found.” French and German still have a separate past tense form (je trouvai, ich fand), but it is used mainly in formal writing (such as novels) rather than everyday speech.

12 For the spelling of ḫn.n see § 17.2. This is an example with the sdm.n.f of an intransitive verb, expressing past action rather than the state resulting from that action: see § 17.3.

13 For the god Sia, see Essay 13. jmt.s “what is in it” is a feminine prepositional nisbe used as a noun (§§ 8.6–7).

14 This sentence refers to the tendency of judges to show favoritism to rich defendants, who could pay bribes to secure a favorable verdict. A wealthy judge, according to the speaker, is likely to be free of such partiality. The verb form ḫwd is a participle, discussed in Lesson 23.

15 bw jrrw st jm, literally “the place that it was done in,” is a construction containing a verb form we will meet in Lesson 24.

16 The subject, wnf jb n hrw r w.f, is preposed because of its length. The expression wnf jb “frivolous” means literally “loose of heart”; wnf means “loose-fitting” (of clothes: hence the determinative).

17 The object “it” is omitted. For r.s “so” see § 15.7.2.

18.THE SDM.F

18.1Definition

Of the seven forms of the suffix conjugation (§ 17.1), the most common by far is the one that Egyptologists call the sdm.f. It also has more uses, more written forms, and more translations than any other verb form of Middle Egyptian. Because of these features, Egyptologists have divided the sdm.f into as many as six separate forms (as in previous editions of this book). For most verbs, however, these supposedly distinct forms all look exactly the same, and recent research now indicates that the active sdm.f may have been only a single verb form, which is how it will be treated here. We will discuss the various theories about the sdm.f in more detail in the final lesson of this book.

The sdm.f is an example of how Egyptian is sometimes much less precise than English. Although it has many different uses and translations, the sdm.f has a single basic meaning: it expresses action. Like all other Middle Egyptian verb forms, it has no tense of its own, though its uses require us to translate it as past, present, or future. Like the stative, it also has no inherent mood, although it is used both for statements of fact (indicative) and for wishes and commands (subjunctive). It is normally active, but also like the stative, it can be used in ways that require us to translate it as passive instead; in this case, however, there is some evidence that the passive sdm.f was a separate form, and it will be discussed as such in the next lesson.

18.2Form

The sdm.f is like the sdm.n.f without the suffix n. It consists of the stem of the verb (§ 12.4.1) followed by the verb’s subject, which is either a noun or a suffix pronoun: for example, sdm ntr “the god hears,” sdm.f “he hears.” Coptic indicates that the sdm.f was pronounced with a final *–á before the subject: e.g., *sadmá nátur, *sadmáf. This final vowel is sometimes reflected in the writing of the sdm.f, as we will see below. There is some evidence that the geminated stem (§ 12.4.2) was also used in the sdm.f, as we will see in future lessons: thus, sdm.f could represent not only *sadmáf but also *sadammáf (see § 2.8.2).

Although the sdm.f normally has a single written form, some verbs and verb classes can have more than one. The following are typical forms that are found in Middle Egyptian texts:¹

2-lit.
dd.j (Ebers 30, 16) “I say.” Rarely prefixed: j.dd.k (Helck, HBT, 5) “you say.” The prefixed form is found mostly in early Middle Egyptian texts (with the prefix spelled ), as a holdover from Old Egyptian, and in texts after the Middle Kingdom (with the prefix usually spelled ), where it anticipates some Late Egyptian forms.

2ae-gem. | wnn.s (Sin. B 262) “it exists” and wn (Peas. R 1, 2) “exists.” Examples of the three-radical form represent the geminated stem (see § 18.9, below).The verb m “see” sometimes has the form mn, as in the infinitive (§ 13.3.2c): e.g., mn.k (Peas. R 15, 1) “you see.”
3-lit. | wḥm.j (Ebers 30, 16) “I repeat”

3ae-inf.
ms.s (Kahun, pl. 6, 17) “she gives birth.” Coptic shows that this class had a final i: i.e., *misiás. This vowel is sometimes reflected in hieroglyphs by a final double reed-leaf, probably because it was heard as a consonant (i.e., *misiyás): sky.f (Adm. 12, 2) “he wipes out.” The final stressed vowel (*á) is sometimes represented by a w in older texts: hw (CT VII, 413d) “goes down.”

3ae-gem. | snbb.sn (Urk. IV, 559, 11) “they converse”
4-lit. | wstn.k (Paheri, pl. 9, 14) “you stride”; ḫtḫt (Siut I, 270) “reverts”
4ae-inf. | ḥms.s (Kahun, pl. 6, 15) “she sits.” Occasionally with final double reed-leaf or, in older texts, w: rnpy (Sin. B 167–68) “rejuvenates,” ḥmsw (CT IV, 324a) “sits.”
caus. 2-lit. | swd.tn (Brunner, Chrestomathie, pl. 11, 10) “you bequeath.” Also with final w in older texts: smḫw (CT V, 238c) “forgets.”
caus. 2ae-gem. | sqbb.k (Urk. IV, 1165, 16) “you cool off ”
caus. 3-lit. | swb.k (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 7) “you clean”
caus. 3ae-inf. | sq.k (CT IV, 69a B6C) “you elevate”; also with final double reed-leaf: sqy.k (CT IV, 69a T1C) “you elevate”
caus. 4-lit. | smnmn.tn (CT IV, 167e) “you cause quaking”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sḫnt.f (Westc. 7, 24) “he promotes”

anom.
The verb rdj “give, put” uses both base stems: rdj.j (Westc. 9, 17) and dj.j (Urk. IV, 1077, 9) “I give.” The verb jjj “come” also uses two stems, jw representing the geminated stem (§ 12.6.2): jj (Peas. B2, 122) “comes,” jy.f (Sin. R 15) “he comes”; jw.f (Ebers 40, 1) “it comes,” jwy.f (Heqanakht II, 38) “he comes.”

In addition to these forms, the 3ae-inf. verb jnj “get, fetch” and the jw stem of anom. jjj sometimes have an ending –t: jnt.f “he gets” (Heqanakht I, vo. 8), jwt (Peas. B1, 88) “comes.” It is not clear whether these represent alternatives of the regular forms or special uses of another form of the suffix conjugation, called the sdmt.f (which we will meet in the next lesson); they are discussed further below (§ 18.10).

18.3The sdm.f with the suffix tw

Like the sdm.n.f (§ 17.6), the sdm.f can have the suffix tw, used either as an impersonal subject (“one”) or to make the sdm.f passive: for instance,

st.tw n.k tk m grḥ (Paheri, pl. 9, 18)

One will light for you a taper at night (or “A taper will be lit for you at night”).

When the subject is a personal pronoun it takes the form of the suffix pronoun and is attached to the verb after the suffix tw: for example: for example,

ḥw.tw.f m šsm 50 (Khety II, 86)

He is beaten with 50 lashes.

18.4The sdm.f as a past tense

In Old Egyptian, the sdm.f could be used to express the past tense (“he heard”) in contrast to the sdm.n.f for completed action (“he has heard”). In Middle Egyptian, the sdm.n.f has taken over both of these functions (§§ 17.3, 17.7, 17.9), but the sdm.f is still used occasionally in its older role: for example,

ḥ.n rdj.f wj m r.f (ShS. 76–77)

Then he put me in his mouth (from a story about a giant serpent).

wn.jn ḥ.sn ḥms.sn ḫft (Kagemni 2, 7)

So, they stood and sat accordingly.

Old Egyptian could also use the sdm.f of intransitive verbs with a noun subject to express completed action. Middle Egyptian normally uses the SUBJECT-stative construction for this purpose (§§ 16.5, 17.3), but the older use of the sdm.f can still be found in some texts: for example,

ḫ sbkw ḥq().n.f pt

mḥ.n.f twj m wsrw.f (pRam.VI, 105–106)

Sobek has appeared and begun to rule the sky,

and has filled the Two Lands with his power.

Here intransitive ḫ sbkw “Sobek has appeared” is used in parallel with the transitive forms ḥq().n.f “he has ruled” (i.e., “he has begun to rule”) and mḥ.n.f “he has filled.”

Neither of these uses of the sdm.f is very common in Middle Egyptian. The intransitive use is found primarily in religious texts and may be a conscious archaism (like the English use of thou and thee in prayers). The past-tense use occurs mostly in early Middle Egyptian tomb biographies and in some early literary texts. Rather than an archaism, however, it may be a dialectal feature. In Late Egyptian the sdm.f is once again used as the regular past tense of transitive verbs, while the sdm.n.f has disappeared. This later use of the sdm.f sometimes appears in Middle Egyptian texts from the Second Intermediate Period onward.

18.5The sdm.f as a present tense

The sdm.f can also be used to express gnomic actions (those that are generally true), corresponding to the simple present tense in English: for example,

mr sw njwt.f r ḥw (Sin. B 66)

His town loves him more than itself.²

Such examples, where the sdm.f is the first word in the clause, are relatively rare. Usually it is introduced by a particle of some sort, most often jw, as in

jw ḫsf.tw n sw ḥr hpw (Ptahhotep 90)

Bypassing customs is punished.³

Since the sdm.f is tenseless, such statements can also be put in the past:

jw jr.j m mtt nt jb n nb r nb (Urk. IV, 489, 2)

I used to act with correctness of heart for the lord every day.

By itself, this example contains nothing to indicate that it refers to past action: the tense comes from the context in which it is used (in this case, a tomb biography). The sdm.f itself simply denotes action, and says nothing about when the action takes place.

18.6The SUBJECT–sdm.f construction

Like the sdm.n.f, the sdm.f can have its subject or object preposed (§ 17.4), either because of its length or to topicalize it: for example,

wp(w)tj ḫdd ḫnt r hnw b.f ḥr.j (Sin. B 94–95)

The messenger who would come north or go south to home used to stop by me.⁴

Here the subject wpwtj ḫdd ḫnt r hnw “the messenger who would come north or go south to home” is preposed before the verb because of its length, and it is repeated by the suffix pronoun on the verb b.f “he used to stop” itself.

Most cases of the sdm.f with a preposed subject, however, are examples of a special verbal construction known as the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction. This is quite common in Middle Egyptian; it is used mostly in gnomic generalizations and is normally introduced by a particle of some sort, most often jw: for example,

jw wḥ ḫb.f jtrw (Peas. B1, 261–62)

The fisherman plows the river.

Less often, the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction expresses the imperfect (§ 12.9.2), as in

m.k wj šm.j r.j (CT II, 384a)

Look, I am going away.⁵

We have now seen three ways in which Middle Egyptian could express generalizations: with the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction, with the sdm.f itself (§ 18.4), and with the pseudo-verbal construction of ḥr plus the infinitive (§ 14.2). Theoretically, the generalization in the second example above could also have been expressed as ḫb wḥ jtrw (sdm.f) or as jw wḥ ḥr ḫb jtrw (pseudo-verbal construction). It is not always clear why the language uses one of these constructions rather than another. There is, however, some historical background to their use.

The sdm.f itself was originally used for generalizations (jr.j “I do”) and perhaps also for imperfect actions (jr.j “I am doing”). Sometime in or before the Old Kingdom, Egyptian started to use the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction instead of the plain sdm.f to express the imperfect (jw.j jr.j “I am doing”), and the construction still has this meaning in some early Middle Egyptian texts. During the Fifth Dynasty the pseudo-verbal construction came into the language and began to replace the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction as the normal way of expressing the imperfect (jw.j ḥr jrt “I am doing”). When this happened, the older SUBJECT-sdm.f construction started to be used for generalizations. This is the situation we find in most Middle Egyptian texts: generalizations expressed by the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction and the imperfect by the pseudo-verbal construction (jw.j jr.j “I do,” jw.j ḥr jrt “I am doing”). Toward the end of its lifetime as a spoken language, however, Middle Egyptian began to use the pseudo-verbal construction for generalizations as well (jw.j ḥr jrt “I do”): most examples of this use come from later Middle Egyptian texts. Eventually the language lost the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction, and the pseudo-verbal construction was used to express both the imperfect and generalizations (jw.j ḥr jrt “I am doing” and “I do”).

Middle Egyptian not only changed during the five hundred or so years it was spoken, but some of its dialects probably retained older constructions longer than others did, and the authors of Middle Egyptian texts sometimes deliberately used older forms. In reading Middle Egyptian texts, therefore, you have to be aware not only of the basic meaning of verb forms and constructions, but also of the fact that those meanings sometimes changed in the course of time. As with tense, however, the context of a sentence is usually a good clue as to its meaning.

18.7The sdm.f as a future tense

As we have seen in §§ 18.4–5, the sdm.f is not very often used as a past tense, and it is mostly used in the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction to express generalizations or the imperfect. Most examples of the sdm.f are either future or subjunctive, especially when it appears as the first word in the sentence. We will examine the use of the sdm.f as a future in this section and its subjunctive use in the next one.

The sdm.f is commonly used to express the future, especially with a first-person subject: for instance,

sdd.j bw.k n jtj (ShS. 139)

I will relate your impressiveness to the sire.

The 2ae-gem. verb wnn “exist” often expresses the future when it is followed by a prepositional phrase, an adverb, or the SUBJECT–stative construction: for example,

wnn dd r pn nḫ.(w) m hrj-ntr (Himmelskuh, 29)

He who says this spell will exist alive in the necropolis⁶

wnn.j m ḫ jq(r) m hrj-ntr (Helck, HBT, 49)

I will exist as an accomplished akh in the necropolis.

Although wnn is a verb in its own right, this use of it can be understood as a way of allowing an adverbial predicate or the SUBJECT–stative construction to be expressed as a future: “I will exist as an akh” is similar in meaning to “I will be an akh.”

As with the sdm.f used as a present tense, we have also met a pseudo-verbal construction that seems to do the same thing as the sdm.f with future meaning, SUBJECT–r-sdm. Although this construction and the sdm.f are both translated as future, however, they actually have slightly different meanings. The SUBJECT–r-sdm construction connotes action that is inevitable or compulsory (§ 14.2); the sdm.f expresses action that is planned or intended. The difference can be seen in the following example:

jw dpt r jjt m hnw sqdw jm.s rḫ.n.k

šm.k ḥn.sn r hnw (ShS. 119–22)

A boat is to come from home, with sailors you know in it.

You will go home with them.⁷

The pseudo-verbal construction is basically an involuntary future: it describes a future action over which the actor has no control, one that is in some way compulsory or inevitable. The sdm.f expresses a voluntary future: it denotes actions that are intended or willed by the actor. In this example, the future action in the first line is expressed with the pseudo-verbal construction not only because it is prophesied (and therefore inevitable) but also because it is involuntary: the actor (dpt “a boat”) has no control over its actions. In the last clause the future action is expressed with the sdm.f both because the actor (.k “you”) is a human being, who can control his actions, and because the future action is viewed as voluntary: the actor will in fact want to “go home with them.”

These two ways of expressing involuntary and voluntary future actions are actually quite similar to English constructions. The pseudo-verbal construction corresponds to the English constructions is to and have to with the infinitive, which denote inevitable and compulsory actions. When it is used to express the future, the sdm.f normally corresponds to the English future tense: you will go, for example, is actually derived from the construction you will to go, in which the action is described as willed by its actor.

18.8The sdm.f as a subjunctive

Even more common than its expression of future action is the use of the sdm.f for actions that are viewed as possible, desirable, or contingent: in other words, subjunctive (§ 12.9.3). The sdm.f is the form that Middle Egyptian normally uses in main clauses to express a wish: for example,

j (j)tm(w) jmj ḥwt-t jty ntrw

nḥm.k wj m ntr pw nḫ m ḫryt (CT IV, 311c–312c)

Oh, Atum, who is in the Great Enclosure, sire of the gods,

may you save me from that god who lives on slaughter.⁸

It is also used to express a polite command, corresponding to English constructions with the verb should: for instance,

m.k wj m .k jp.k wj (Peas. R 26, 5–6)

Look, I am in your hand: you should take account of me.

It can also be used to express an exhortation, corresponding to English constructions with the verb let: for example,

jrjw- ḥr šm.n ḥq n.n (Adm. 1, 1)

The doorkeepers are (saying), “Let’s go and plunder for ourselves.”⁹

Of these three uses, the last (exhortation) is only expressed by the sdm.f, but other verb forms can be used to express wishes and commands. As a command, the sdm.f is softer or more polite than the imperative: Egyptian tends to use it instead of the imperative when the command is addressed to a superior, such as a high official, the king, or a god: for example,

wd ḥm.k r prw nw zhw (Helck, HBT, 22)

Your Incarnation should proceed to the houses of writings—or

May Your Incarnation proceed to the houses of writings—or

Let Your Incarnation proceed to the houses of writings.

The sdm.f differs from the stative in expressing a wish or command because it denotes action, whereas the stative denotes a state: thus, sdm.f šm.k “you should go” but stative šm.tj “you should be gone” (i.e., “begone!”)—both of which also contrast with the simple imperative šm “go!”; similarly, sdm.f nḫ.f “may he live” versus stative nḫ.(w) “may he be alive” and imperative nḫ “live!”

18.9The sdm.f of wnn

When you were introduced to the geminated stem, you learned that it adds the sense of repetitive, continual, or normative action to the root meaning of the verb (§ 12.4.2). This nuance is not something that normally affects the translation of the sdm.f, since there is usually no way to tell for certain whether the base or geminated stem is being used (see § 18.2). For the sdm.f of 2ae-gem. verbs, however, the difference between the two written forms reflects a difference in stems: the two-radical form always represents the base stem, and the three-radical form always represents the geminated stem. This rule is deduced from what we know about Egyptian syllable structure and writing. For the verb qbb “become cool,” for example, qb.f can only represent the form *qabbáf and qbb.f can only represent *qababbáf.¹⁰

The difference in meaning between the two forms cannot always be reflected in translation: for example, m.f wr (CT V, 131a A1C) and m.f wr (CT V, 131a G1T) both mean “he sees the Great One,” although m.f connotes an extended act of seeing that m.f does not. For the verb wnn, however, the difference can often be captured by the English verbs be and exist, the second of which denotes an extended act of existence. The sentence wnn.j m ḫ jq(r) m hrj-ntr cited in § 18.7, for instance, implies that the speaker is thinking of his eternal afterlife (“I will exist as an excellent akh in the necropolis”), while wn in the following example simply indicates existence:

wn kwt(j)w.k m ḥw (Helck, HBT, 27)

Your workers will be in jubilation.

The same difference applies to non-future uses of the sdm.f of wnn, as can be seen from the next two examples:

wnn t m znj mnt (Urk. IV, 2027, 11)

The land existed in distress¹¹

wn.j m smr (Hatnub 22, 2–3)

I was a courtier.

In this case, wnn in the first sentence implies that the land was in distress over a period of time, while wn.j in the second simply refers to the past situation of its subject.

Each of these three examples can be analyzed as an adverbial sentence to which the sdm.f of wnn has been added in order to make a more precise statement than the adverbial sentence alone. Thus, wn adds the notion of the future in the first example and the past in the third, and wnn adds the notion of extended existence in the second. The sdm.f of wnn is used for the same purpose with the pseudo-verbal, SUBJECT–stative, and SUBJECT–sdm.f constructions:

wnn.k ḥr rdjt n.f qw (Peas. B1, 114 adapted)

You will be (constantly) giving him rations

m.t wnn.f wr.(w) (Kahun, pl. 34, 20)

Look, he used to be in flight (literally, “fled”)

wn.j wšd.j ḥmwt ḥr.s (Sinai 90, 8)

I used to address the craftsmen about it.

In the first two examples, wnn adds the notion of continued action, while wn puts the imperfect statement of the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction in the last example into the past. In each case, however, the tense comes from the context in which the sentence is used and not from the constructions or verb forms themselves.

In some instances, wn (but not wnn) is best translated “there is” or “there was”: for example,

jw wn ḥfw ḥr wpt dw pf (CT II, 377c B17C)

There is a snake on the brow of that mountain

jst r.f wn šzpt m p šj (Westc. 2, 3–4 restored)

So now (§ 15.6.5), there was a gazebo in the garden.

This is known as an existential sentence. Even though wn looks like the sdm.f, in this use it is actually a verb form known as a participle, serving as an adjectival predicate. Thus, jw wn ḥfw means “a snake (is) existent” and wn šzpt is literally “a gazebo (was) existent.” This construction is relatively easy to distinguish from those in which wn is the sdm.f, because it always has a nominal subject, which is undefined (§ 4.9), and because the existential translation “There is/was” makes better sense than one with be as a verb in its own right (*“A snake is on the brow of that mountain,” *“So now, a gazebo was in the garden”).

18.10 jnt and jwt

As noted at the end of § 18.2, the 3ae-inf. verb jnj “get, fetch” and the jw stem of anom. jjj “come” both have unusual sdm.f forms with a final –t in addition to their regular forms jn and jw. These are found mostly in sentences where the sdm.f has future or subjunctive meaning: for example,

jwt n.k ntrw m ksw (CT I, 236b)

The gods will come to you bowing

jnt.k n.(j) pwt (L to D, pl. 3, 2)

You should get me quails.

It is not clear what these forms represent. They may be merely phonological variants (e.g., *inták instead of *inák) or a form known as the sdmt.f (discussed in Lesson 19) rather than the sdm.f. In any case, they behave like regular forms of the sdm.f and are often found in the same kinds of uses as the regular forms.

18.11The sdm.f after particles

Like other kinds of predicates, the sdm.f (or SUBJECT–sdm.f) can be preceded by various particles or other introductory words. We have seen examples after ḥ.n, wn.jn, jw, and m.k in the preceding sections (§§ 18.4–6, 18.9). It is also used after the particle ḥ (and its variants ḥw, ḥwj, ḥwj : § 15.6.12) to express a wish:

ḥwj mry wj k.k (BD 154 Nu)

Would that your ka might desire me.

When the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f construction is used after jḫ and k (§§ 15.6.3, 15.6.15), it usually denotes the future result or consequence of some preceding statement:

sb r.k sw r mdt hr ḥt

jḫ jr.f bj()w n msw srjw (Ptahhotep 37–39)

So, teach him to speak (well) from the start:

and he will be (literally, “make”) a model for officials’ children¹²

jw n m sbyt k.k jr.k mjtt (Urk. IV, 1090, 3–4)

This is a teaching: thus, you do likewise

ḥw jry.k ḫft dd.j

k ḥtp mt r jst.s (Urk. IV, 1074, 14–15)

If only you will do as I say,

then Maat will come to rest at its (proper) place.¹³

When the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f construction is used after the particle ḫr (§ 15.6.13), it expresses necessary or inevitable action: for example,

jr m ḫt j.s ḥr.s r nb

ḫr.s gs.s ḥr.s jm (Ebers 87, 9–10)

After she washes her face every day,

she has to oil her face with it¹⁴

wbn.f m njwt ḥqr

ḫr s.sn m jnw n šw (Helck, Nilhymnus, 71)

He rises in a town of hunger

and they become sated with the products of the fields.¹⁵

18.12The sdm. f in conditional sentences

Conditional sentences pose a condition under which an action or situation is true: for example, If you do that, you’ll be sorry, where you’ll be sorry is true under the condition stated after if. Such sentences always consist of two parts: the if part is known as the conditional clause or protasis (“PROT-a-sis”), and the second part, or main clause, is called the apodosis (“a-POD-a-sis”).

In Middle Egyptian the protasis is often introduced by jr; this can be translated as “if,” “when,” or “as,” although it is actually the full form of the preposition r “as for, with respect to” (§ 8.2.7). When the protasis is introduced by jr, it always comes before the apodosis. The verb form in the protasis is usually the sdm.f:

jr šzp z zj dd jt.f

nj nnm.n sḫr.f nb (Ptahhotep 564–65)

If/When a man’s son accepts his father’s speaking,

his plan cannot err.¹⁶

We have also seen how jr can introduce an element of the sentence that is preposed, usually the subject (§ 17.4). In fact, the two uses of jr are the same: the conditional use means literally, “as for” (in the example above, “As for a man’s son accepts”). Normally, when initial jr is followed by a noun or noun phrase, it is translated “as for,” and when it is followed by the sdm.f, “if/when/as.”

In English, it is also possible to make a conditional sentence without if: for example, You do that, you’ll be sorry. Egyptian could do the same thing:

j nḫw … swt(j).sn ḥr jz pn

mr.tn nḫ msd.tn ḫpt

jw.tn r drp n.j (CG 20003 a 1–3)

Oh (you) living … who shall pass by this tomb!

(As) you want to live and you hate to pass on,

you are to offer to me.¹⁷

Here the protasis contains two sdm.f forms, mr.tn “you want” and msd.tn “you hate,” and the apodosis is expressed with the pseudo-verbal construction of r plus the infinitive. In such sentences the conditional sense of the protasis is conveyed by the context instead of a specific introductory word.

18.13The negation nj sdm.f

Unlike the sdm.n.f, which is usually negated by nj and only rarely by nn, the sdm.f is negated by both nj and nn. It also has two negative counterparts, jm.f sdm and tm.f sdm, with the sdm.f of the verbs jmj (§ 12.7) and tm plus the negatival complement (§§ 13.16–18). These all have different uses and meanings.

The negation nj sdm.f is normally used to refer to past or completed action and is therefore usually translated by the English past or perfect:

nj k.j spr r hnw pn (Sin. B 6–7)

I did not intend to arrive at that residence (from a story)

jw.j ḥr mq dr pt

nj m.j mjtj zrw pn (Meir III, pl. 23)

I have been roasting (birds) since the creation,

and I have not seen the like of this goose.¹⁸

In this use, nj sdm.f is sometimes replaced by the stronger negations nj p.f sdm and nj zp sdm.f. The first of these uses the verb p “do once, ever do” followed by the infinitive and is best translated as “not once” or “not ever”: for example,

nj p dyt mjn zp.s (Ptahhotep 93)

Wrongdoing has not once moored its case,

literally, “wrongdoing has not done once the mooring of its case” (i.e., has never made its case arrive at a successful conclusion). The negation nj zp sdm.f uses the negated noun zp “occasion, case” followed by the sdm.f and means literally, “(in) no case (did) he hear” or “(on) no occasion (did) he hear.” It is usually translated with the adverb “never” and the past or perfect, as in

nj zp jry.j ḫt nbt dwj r r(m)t nb (CG 20729 a 3)

I never did anything badly against any people—or

I have never done anything badly against any people.¹⁹

Besides its usual reference to past or completed actions, nj sdm.f (but not the more specific negations nj p.f sdm and nj zp sdm.f) can also be used to express the negation of gnomic actions: for example,

nj jn.tw ḥtpt r dmj (Ptahhotep 348)

Contentment is not fetched to harbor,

meaning, “contentment is never fully achieved.” The translation of nj sdm.f as a gnomic present is most common with the verb rḫ “learn, experience”: for example,

nj rḫ.j sw (Sin. B 114) “I do not know him.”

In this case, however, nj sdm.f actually has its more usual past or perfect meaning, since nj rḫ.j sw means literally, “I have not gotten to know him” (see §§ 16.5 and 17.10). Except for rḫ, the gnomic sense of nj sdm.f is rare: Middle Egyptian regularly uses nj sdm.n.f for that purpose (§ 17.11).

Finally, nj sdm.f can also have future meaning. This use is most common with the geminated sdm.f of wnn, as in

nj wnn z.f ḥr nst.f (Beni Hasan I, pl. 25, 96–99)

His son will not (ever) be on his seat.

Other examples of nj sdm.f with future meaning occur mostly in religious texts, where it is a holdover from Old Egyptian.

18.14The negation nn sdm.f

When it is negated by nn, the sdm.f regularly has future meaning. This is the usual negative counterpart of the pseudo-verbal construction jw.f r sdm, which is normally not negated (§ 14.8): for example,

jw.f r jtt tw šmw

nn k.f ḫswt mḥtt (Sin. B 71–72)

He is to take possession of the southern lands:

he will not consider the northern countries.

Like nj sdm.f, nn sdm.f has a stronger counterpart nn zp sdm.f, which means “he will never hear”: for example,

nn zp jry.j ddt.n.s (Herdsman 6)

I would never do what she said.²⁰

In this case, the literal meaning is something like “there is not a case (that) I (will) do”; the tense comes from the context, not from the construction itself.

Although nn sdm.f normally has future meaning, this is not the case with the negation nn wn. This is the negative counterpart of the construction discussed at the end of § 18.9, in which wn is a participle rather than the sdm.f, and means “there is not”: for example,

nn wn šw m ḫrwy (Merikare 10, 9–10)

There is no one free of an enemy.

nn wn jz n wn-jb (Ptahhotep 315)

There is no tomb for the greedy,

literally, “one free of an enemy is not existent” and “a tomb for the grasping of mind is not existent” (see § 11.6).

18.15The negations jm.f sdm and tm.f sdm

The negative verb jmj is used to make the negative counterpart of the sdm.f in wishes or commands. The verb jmj is put in the sdm.f, and the verb being negated is expressed as the negatival complement: for example,

z.k pw …

jm.k jwd jb.k r.f (Ptahhotep 204–205)

He is your son …

you should not separate your mind from him.

When the subject is a noun, it normally comes after the negatival complement (jm sdm NOUN), not after jm: for instance,

jm sḫpr jb.j pn dbw pn dw r.j (BD 27 Nu)

May this my mind not create this bad reproach against me,

where jb.j pn “this my mind” is the subject and sḫpr “create” (literally “cause to evolve”) is the negatival complement.²¹

In some cases, Middle Egyptian prefers the construction tm.f sdm, with the sdm.f of the verb tm “fail to do, not do” and the negatival complement of the verb being negated, in place of a negated sdm.f. Two instances in which this is especially common are after the particle jḫ “thus” and after conditional jr “if, when” (see §§ 18.11–12): for example,

jw.j r jrt njj

jḫ tm.f ḥzw (Leb. 45–46)

I am to make an awning

and it won’t get cold

jr tm.sn rdw nn msy.s (pBerlin 3038, vo. 2, 4–5)

If they fail to grow, she will not give birth.

Unlike jmj, which only means “not” and is only used in the sdm.f and the imperative (§ 15.4), tm is a full verb in its own right. As such, it can even be negated itself:

nn tm.f jr bw nfr (Sin. B 74–75)

He will not fail to do good.

18.16The sdm.f in questions

Besides its use in statements, the sdm.f is also used in questions. When it has an interrogative pronoun as object, it is usually the first word in the sentence:

jry.j mj (Adm. 2, 9) “What shall I do?”

When the verb itself is questioned, however, it is most often introduced by the particle jn (§ 15.6.2):

jn w.tw.j r.f m spt.f (Peas. B1, 49)

So (§ 15.7.2), shall I be robbed in his estate?

jn gs jwsw (Peas. B1, 353–54)

Does the crossbar tilt?²²

This particle can also introduce the negated sdm.f:

jn nn r.f dj.k sw.n ḥr wt (Peas. B1, 39–40)

So, won’t you let us pass on the path?²³

When the sdm.f has gnomic sense, or when the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction is questioned, jn is usually followed by jw: for example,

jn jw šd.tw hnnw m hnw pr (Amenemhat 2, 7–8)

Are troublemakers received inside a house?

jn jw k mr.f ḥ (Sin. B 123)

Does a bull want to fight?

The two particles jn jw also introduce a question of existence with the participle wn (see the end of § 18.9): for instance,

jn jw wn ky nḫt ḥ r.f (Sin. B 133–34)

Is there another strongman who could fight against him?²⁴

These examples show that the sdm.f in questions can have most of the same meanings that it does in affirmative statements.

18.17Summary of the sdm.f

From the preceding discussions, you can see how the sdm.f can have many different translations in English, even though it is only a single form in Egyptian. In most cases, the meaning of the sdm.f comes from the context in which it is used, but there are also a few uses and constructions that give more precise clues to its meaning. To help you remember and identify the different meanings, here is a summary of the basic points.

 1)sdm.f — most often future or subjunctive (“he will hear”; “he should hear, may he hear, let him hear”), much less commonly with reference to past/completed action (“he heard, he has heard”) or present/gnomic action (“he hears”).

 2)jw sdm.f — usually gnomic (“he hears”).

 3)SUBJECT–sdm.f — most often gnomic (“he hears”), less often imperfect (“he is/ was hearing”).

 4)nj sdm.f — usually refers to past or completed action (“he did not hear, he has not heard”), less often to gnomic or future action.

 5)nn sdm.f — regularly future (“he will not hear).

 6)jm.f sdm —subjunctive (“he should not hear, may he not hear, let him not hear”).

 7)tm.f sdm — used instead of nj sdm.f or nn sdm.f in some cases, particularly after jr “if ”; translated like nj sdm.f or nn sdm.f, although it literally means “he fails to hear, he failed to hear, he will fail to hear.”

 8)wn (sdm.f) — past/perfect or future/subjunctive, mostly used to give those meanings to a sentence with adverbial, pseudo-verbal, or SUBJECT–stative predicate; translated by a form of the verb be (“is, was,” etc.); negated by nj (past/perfect) or nn (future).

 9)wn (participle) — used in existential statements (“there is/are, there was/were”), with undefined nominal subject; negated by nn.

10)wnn (sdm.f) — same meanings and uses as wn (sdm.f) but with the connotation of continued existence (“exist” rather than “be”); negated by nj, with future meaning.

ESSAY 18. EGYPTIAN LITERATURE

One of the advantages of studying Middle Egyptian is that a knowledge of the language gives you firsthand access to a whole world of ancient thought and literature. We are fortunate that the Egyptian climate has preserved so much of that literature for us—sometimes in the hieroglyphs carved on stone monuments or painted on tomb walls but especially in the much more fragile texts inscribed on wood or written in ink on papyrus.

The hieroglyphic examples presented in these lessons are all taken from real ancient Egyptian texts, ranging from mundane documents of everyday life to sophisticated treatises on philosophy and theology. Because our knowledge of Middle Egyptian is completely dependent on the written word, it is important to understand the cultural background of these texts: why they were composed in the first place, how they were transmitted, and what they meant to the people who wrote them. In this essay we will look at Egyptian literature as a whole; subsequent essays will discuss the various kinds of Egyptian texts in more detail.

Middle Egyptian literature reflects a number of different layers of the Egyptian language, from the spontaneous conversation of fieldworkers to the most carefully crafted literary compositions. Such layers (also known as registers) exist in all languages. In English, for example, contractions such as can’t or won’t are more common in everyday speech and writing than in formal literary compositions. In modern French and German, the past tense belongs to the layer of formal language and is largely absent from everyday speech. The difference is even more pronounced in modern Arabic, which uses one set of words and grammar for writing and formal speech and a different set for everyday conversation; the former is uniform across the Arabic-speaking world, but the latter differs from country to country. Politicians giving a speech in Arabic sometimes switch between these layers deliberately: for example, by using the formal language to appear statesmanlike and the colloquial to identify themselves with the common people.

Middle Egyptian seems to have been similar to modern Arabic, and probably often had significant differences between the spoken and written language. For a number of reasons, however, it is not always easy, or even possible, to distinguish the various layers from one another in an Egyptian text. Some layers are less well represented than others in preserved texts; and as the language changed with time, words or grammatical constructions from one layer were adopted into others. Because of these difficulties, Egyptologists have not devoted much effort to identifying the different layers of speech that might be present in a text. Along with other factors such as dialect (§ 1.3) and the change in language over time, however, such differences probably account for some of the more unusual constructions we have met in this and past lessons.

The base of all communication, of course, was the speech used in everyday conversation. Of all the layers, this is the least well represented in Middle Egyptian texts. We know it primarily through occasional labels in tomb scenes, which record the conversation of workers depicted in the scenes. Unlike written Middle Egyptian, it seems to have had a definite article (p, t, n “the”: § 5.9.3), and perhaps an indefinite article as well (w, wt “a”: § 9.4 end). Over time, these were gradually adopted in the written language. When we come across them in a Middle Egyptian text, however, it is not always clear whether their presence reflects this historical process or whether it was meant as a deliberate use of the “colloquial” layer.

The Egyptians themselves were conscious of the different layers in their speech. The language of official documents was viewed as a standard not only for written texts but also for the speech of the upper classes. The Egyptians were also aware of the difference between ordinary conversation or writing and the kind of carefully crafted language that we call literature. The latter was known as mdt nfrt “good speech” (akin to the French term belles lettres), and those who could compose it were called nfr mdw “good of speaking” (Neferti 7–8). It is a nice reflection on Egyptian society that the possession of this talent was not felt to be limited to the upper classes or the educated. One of the most famous pieces of Egyptian literature is a series of discourses on the nature of Maat, expounded by a farmer from one of the oases (the “boondocks” of ancient Egypt); and another text tells us that “Good speech is more hidden than malachite, yet it is found with maidservants at the millstones” (Ptahhotep 58).

Like the English-speakers of Shakespeare’s time, the Egyptians delighted in the clever use of language, not only in content but also in style. A good example of this is:

wr wr wrw.f wr.(w) (Merikare 4, 9)

Great is a great one whose great ones are great.²⁵

As with the different layers that are probably present in many texts, we are not always able to recognize the kind of deliberate craftsmanship involved in literary style. We can see, however, many of the devices found in the literature of more familiar cultures, including allegory, metaphor, puns, and phonological features such as alliteration. One common feature of Egyptian literature is the use of what has been called “thought couplets,” in which the thought of one sentence or clause is repeated in different words or expanded in the following sentence or clause: for example,

ḥ jb pw m t ss

nw pw nj rdj.n.f s.f (Sin. B 57–58)

He is one steady-minded of heart in the moment of retreat;

he is a returner who does not show his back.²⁶

This feature is also found in the literature of other ancient Near Eastern cultures; it is most familiar to us from the poems of the Bible, especially the Psalms.

Some of what we—and probably the Egyptians themselves—would consider “good speech” includes recognizable literary genres such as stories and poems, but it also encompasses less obvious kinds of texts such as tomb biographies and even some letters. When one such text had a particularly well crafted sentence, it was often copied in other texts of the same kind. Many of the more important works of Egyptian literature exist in several copies. In some cases this is because parts of them were used to train schoolboys in the art of writing; but works of literature were also copied by more well-educated scribes simply for their own enjoyment, and we owe some of the best creations of Egyptian literature, which exist in only one copy, to this latter motive.

Egyptian literary texts are often inscribed at the end with a colophon giving the name of the copyist, but the names of the authors are usually not recorded. Nevertheless, the Egyptians were aware of their identity, and they revered their literary giants as much as we do the authors of our own great literature. The most poignant illustration of this reverence is preserved for us in a literary composition of the Ramesside Period, naming some of the famous writers from the golden age of Middle Egyptian literature (pCB IV, vo. 2, 5 – 3, 11):

As for those learned writers since the time that came after the gods, those prophets of what was to come, their names have become fixed forever. …

They did not make pyramids of copper with stelae of metal;

they were not able to leave a heritage of children.

Yet their names are pronounced:

they made for themselves a heritage of writings, of the teachings they made. …

Is there one now like Hardedef? Is another like Imhotep?

No one has come in our time like Neferti or Khety, their best.

I will let you know the name of Ptahemdjehuti and Khakheperseneb.

Is another like Ptahhotep, or Kaires? …

They are gone, their names forgotten,

but writings make them remembered.

EXERCISE 18

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1.

(Paheri, pl. 9, 12–19) — from a series of wishes for the afterlife: wsḫt nt mtj refers to the hall of judgment (see Essay 8); jjwj “welcome!”

2. (Peas. R 8, 5)

3.

— (Peas. B1, 85–91) — a metaphor for proper behavior

4.(Merikare 3, 6) — ḫmt “think”

5. — (Ptahhotep 207–213 L2) — advice on what to do about a bad son; jrt is the infinitive used instead of the negatival complement

6. (Khakh. 13–14) — rḫ wḫdw “one that knew how to bear up”; jrj sḫnj “make landing” (in the sense of coming to rest)

7. (Ptahhotep 298–99)

8. (Ptahhotep 350)

9. (CT I, 312i) — wp-wwt “Wepwawet,” a god who guided the other gods; his name means “He who parts the ways”

10. (Helck, Djedefhor, 66) — pḥw “results”

11. (Sin. B 96) — from the story of Sinuhe: jb “the thirsty”

12. (Sin. B 226–28) — from the story of Sinuhe: zḫz m s “run after” (a fugitive); tz ḥwrw “hue and cry” (literally, “a poor sentence”)

13. (Sin. B 35–36) — from the story of Sinuhe: ḫprt “something that has happened”

14. (Helck, Djedefhor, 39) — r-pw “either” (see § 4.12)

15. (Westc. 6, 26–7, 1) — from Papyrus Westcar: dd-SNFRW “SNEFRU Endures,” a town near Memphis

16. (ShS. 126) — from the serpent’s story in the Ship-wrecked Sailor

17. (ShS. 18–19) — from the Shipwrecked Sailor

18. (Khety I, 60) — description of a builder, from the Instruction of Khety: m rwtj n “out in” (literally, “in the outside of ”); j.qd.f “building”

19. (Adm. 3, 2) — ms see § 15.7.7

20. (Ebers 48, 3–4) — advice for treating a patient, from a medical text

21. (CT VII, 168b)

22. (CT I, 188a–189a)

23. (Peas. B2, 5–6)

24. (Merikare 5, 10) — pḥ “he who reaches”; st and jm refer to the next life

25. (Ptahhotep 84–86 L2)

1 The translations in this list all use the English present tense. In the texts from which the examples are taken, however, the form may not necessarily have present meaning.

2 Literally, “His town loves him with respect to (its) body.”.

3 The phrase sw ḥr means “passing over”; sw is the infinitive.

4 ḫdd “going north” and ḫnt “going south” are participles, discussed in Lesson 23.

5 Egyptian uses the expression “go with respect to” oneself (here, r.j “with respect to myself”) for “go away.”

6 dd “he who says” is a participle, a verb form we will meet in Lesson 23.

7 rḫ.n.k is the sdm.n.f used as an adjective, which will be discussed in Lesson 22.

8“Great Enclosure” (ḥwt-t) is the name of a temple in Heliopolis. nḫ “who lives” is a participle, which we will meet in Lesson 23.

9 jrjw- “doorkeepers” is literally “those who pertain to the door” (§ 8.7). For the omitted subject of ḥq “and plunder,” see § 17.5; for ḥr “are saying,” see § 14.7.

10 We know the vowels from Coptic. The form qbb.f cannot represent *qababáf because Egyptian historically reduced CV to C before or after a stressed syllable. Thus, *qababáf → *qabbáf; similarly, ms nfr “good” represents *náfir, but fs nfrt represents *náfirat → *náfrat. There is a similar rule of syllable reduction in other Afro-Asiatic languages.

11 The expression znj mnt “distress” is a noun phrase meaning “the surpassing of suffering.”

12 The prepositional phrase hr ḥt “in the beginning” means literally “under the front.”

13 dd.j is the object of the preposition ḫft, a use to be discussed in Lesson 21.

14 From a prescription for an ointment to erase wrinkles. The first clause means literally “as for after she washes her face every day,” with the sdm.f as object of the preposition; this use of the sdm.f will be discussed in Lesson 21.

15 From a description of the inundation.

16 dd is the infinitive.

17 nḫw “living ones” and swt(j).sn “who shall pass” are different kinds of participles, a verb form we will discuss in Lesson 23. nḫ “to live” and ḫpt “to pass on” (a euphemism for “die”) are infinitives (see § 13.12).

18 Speech of a man roasting a goose over a fire. Note that the tense of the pseudo-verbal construction jw.j ḥr mq is indicated by the prepositional phrase dr pt “since the creation” (pt means literally “the original time”).

19 Since it does not have a feminine ending, dwj is probably not an adjective (ḫt nbt dwt “anything bad,” “any bad thing”) but an adverb “badly” (see § 8.14).

20 From a story; ddt.n.s “what she said” is a form we will discuss in Lesson 22.

21 The word dbw “reproach” comes from db “finger”; it literally means something like “finger-wagging.” For the word-order of dbw pn dw, see § 6.3.

22 The jwsw is the horizontal arm of the balance: see U38 in the Sign List.

23 Literally, “you won’t give (that) we pass”: dj.k and sw.n are both the sdm.f. This construction will be discussed in Lesson 21.

24 Compare the affirmative statement of existence with jw wn at the end of § 18.9. ḥ “who could fight” is a participle, which we will discuss in Lesson 23.

25 wrw.f wr.(w) is a SUBJECT–stative used as a virtual relative clause (discussed in Lesson 22).

26 From a poem in praise of the king. Note the final alliteration in both sentences (ss ~ s.f ). ḥ jb is a nfr ḥr construction (§ 6.5) meaning “one who stands of mind” (i.e., “one whose heart stands”); ḥ is a participle, discussed in Lesson 23.

19.THE OTHER FORMS OF THE SUFFIX CONJUGATION

19.1Definitions

We have now met the two most important forms of the suffix conjugation, the sdm.n.f and the sdm.f. Besides these, the Middle Egyptian verbal system has another five forms that Egyptologists classify as belonging to the suffix conjugation. These occur less often than the two we have already considered; all but one are relatively easy to identify.

We have already seen how the active sdm.f can be made passive by means of the suffix tw (§ 18.3), like the sdm.n.f (§ 17.6). Middle Egyptian also has a passive sdm.f that usually looks just like the active form, without any special features to identify it. You may wonder why the language would need this additional form, since it could make a passive by adding tw to the active. In fact, the passive sdm.f is not all that common in Middle Egyptian. It is a holdover from Old Egyptian and is most often found in formal compositions or older religious texts.

Three forms are marked by a suffix, like the sdm.n.f: the sdm.jn.f (“sedgem-IN-eff ”), with the suffix jn; the sdm.ḫr.f (“sedgem-KHER-eff ”), with the suffix ḫr; and the sdm.k.f (“sedgem-KAH-eff ”), with the suffix k. These biliteral suffixes behave exactly like the suffix n of the sdm.n.f (§ 17.2): they follow the verb stem itself and precede any other suffixes. Because of their common feature of a biliteral suffix, we can refer to them collectively as the biliteral-suffix forms.

The last form is marked by the ending –t attached directly to the verb stem; it is known as the sdmt.f (“sedgem-TEFF”). It can have passive as well as active meaning and only appears in three specific uses.

THE PASSIVE SDM.F

19.2Form

Although the passive sdm.f usually looks like the active, it sometimes has the ending –w ( or ) added directly to the verb stem before any determinative. This ending is found on the passive sdm.f more often and in more classes than the same ending on the active sdm.f. The passive can also have the ending y () rather than w, but in normal Middle Egyptian texts this ending appears on verbs with a final radical j, such as those of the 3ae-inf. class and the anom. verb rdj.

The passive sdm.f can be formed from the geminated stem of 2ae-gem. verbs, like the active. The geminated stem also appears occasionally on forms of 2-lit., 3-lit., and 4ae-gem. verbs, unlike the active. This distinct form is sometimes called the sdmm.f (“sedgem-EM-eff ”). It occurs exclusively in older religious texts.

The following table shows examples of the passive sdm.f for the various verb classes in Middle Egyptian:¹

2-lit. | wn (Adm. 6, 7) “opened,” šw (Hamm. 110, 6) “cut off,” pḥḥ (CT V, 312h) “reached”
2ae-gem. | m (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 19) “seen,” (CT I, 359c) “seen,” mm (CT I, 398b) “seized”
3-lit. | šzp (ShS. 3) “taken,” wḥmw (Khakh. 3) “repeated” nḥmm.f (CT II, 62c) “he is taken away”
3ae-inf. | jr (Sin. B 87) “made,” jrw (Merikare 8, 6) “made,” jry (Urk. IV, 605, 16) “made”
4-lit. | gmgm (Adm. 3, 5) “broken”
4ae-inf. | w (Peas. B1, 107) “robbed,” ḫwsw (Sin. B 300) “built,”² ndrr.j (CT V, 312g) “I am grabbed”
caus. 2-lit. | sḫr (Westc. 8, 25) “felled,” sḫdw.j (CT III, 197a) “I am inverted”
caus. 3-lit. | sḥ (Kagemni 2, 8) “installed”
caus. 3ae-inf. | sḥr (Helck, HBT, 25) “driven off,” sḫw (Helck, HBT, 25) “made to appear”
caus. 4-lit. | sḫdḫdw “is inverted” and sḫdḫdy.f (CT III, 142d B3C and B1Bo) “he is inverted”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sḫntw (Urk. IV, 1297, 13/14) “sent upstream,” smw (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 24) “renewed”
anom. | The verb rdj “give, put” uses both base stems: rdj (Helck, HBT, 25) “given,” rdjw (Urk. IV, 897, 7) “given,” rdy (Spiegelberg, Denksteine II, 3, 23) “put,” dj (Sethe, Lesestücke, 75, 7) “put,” djw (Urk. IV, 652, 9) “given.”

19.3Word order and subject of the passive sdm.f

The passive sdm.f follows the normal rules for forms of the suffix conjugation with respect to its subject and the word order of its clause (§ 17.4). Since it is a form that already has passive meaning, it is not used with the passive suffix tw. It is quite often used without an expressed subject, especially when the subject does not refer to anything in particular (corresponding to the English “dummy” subject it): for example,

jw jr mj dd.f (Herdsman 23)

It was done as he said,

literally, “(it) was done like he said.” The agent of the passive sdm.f, when it is expressed, is introduced by the preposition jn (see § 8.2.2; for examples see § 19.7, below).

One important peculiarity of the passive sdm.f is that it is normally not used with a personal pronoun as subject. Normally the subject of the passive sdm.f is a noun (or noun phrase) or demonstrative pronoun, but not a suffix pronoun. Middle Egyptian regularly uses the stative instead of the passive sdm.f when the subject is a personal pronoun: for example,

t.kw b šnw.j (Sin. B 291)

I was depilated and my hair was combed.

Here the second verb, with a nominal subject (šnw.j “my hair”), is the passive sdm.f, while the first one is the stative because it has a personal pronoun as its subject: thus, t.kw “I was depilated” (meaning that his facial hairs were plucked) rather than *tw.j. The only common exception to this rule is when the passive sdm.f is negated (discussed below), since the stative cannot be negated.

19.4The meaning of the passive sdm.f

The passive sdm.f, like the active, simply expresses action, without any specific tense. It can therefore refer to past/completed, present/gnomic, or future actions, depending on the context in which it occurs. Unlike the active, however, the passive sdm.f is used most often to refer to past or completed actions. In this respect, it acts like a passive counterpart of the sdm.n.f:

SUBJECT | ACTIVE | PASSIVE
nominal³ | m.n jst “Isis saw” | m jst “Isis was seen” (passive)
personal pronoun | m.n.s “she saw” | m.tj “she was seen” (stative).

Since the passive voice indicates that an action is performed on its subject (§ 12.9.4), only transitive verbs can appear in the passive sdm.f; intransitive verbs can only denote an action performed by the subject (§ 12.2). Egyptian, like English, however, has some verbs that can be either transitive or intransitive. An English example is the verb join: it is transitive in the sentence Jack joined the two parts together and intransitive in the sentence The two parts joined together nicely. The Egyptian verb zm “join” is used in the same way. This peculiarity can make it difficult to know whether a particular example of the sdm.f of such a verb is passive (transitive) or active (intransitive). In the sentence zm ḫt.j m ḫt.f (CT IV, 91j) for instance, the verb could be passive or active: “My Sacred Eye has been joined with his Sacred Eye” or “My Sacred Eye has joined with his Sacred Eye.” In an example like this, without any context, it is impossible to decide between the two. Fortunately, however, the context usually provides some clues as to which form is meant. It is also important to remember how the various forms are used: in the sentence just cited, for example, the passive sdm.f is more likely because the active sdm.f does not usually have past or perfect meaning when it is not negated (§ 18.4).

19.5The passive sdm.f as a counterpart of the sdm.n.f

As a passive counterpart of the sdm.n.f, the passive sdm.f is used in the same way as the sdm.n.f, and with the similar meaning. The following examples illustrate the use of the passive sdm.f expressing completed action and as a past tense (cf. §§ 17.7, 17.9),

šzp ḫrpw ḥ(w) mjnt (ShS. 3–4)

The mallet has been taken (in hand), the mooring-post has been hit

dj sr(j)w r ḥw.sn (Sethe, Lesestücke, 75, 7)

The officials were put at their stations.

Like the sdm.n.f, the passive sdm.f in main clauses is usually preceded by an introductory word of some sort, most often jw, m.k, or ḥ.n (cf. §§ 17.7, 17.9): for example,

jw ḫwsw n.j mr m jnr (Sin. B 300)

A pyramid of stone has been built for me

m.k ms n.k hrdw 3 (Westc. 11, 5–6)

Look, three boys have been born to you

ḥ.n šw nḥbt.s (Hamm. 110, 6)

Then its neck was cut.

The passive sdm.f can also express an action contrary to fact, like the sdm.n.f (§ 17.8):

ḥw zn zhw (Kemit, pl. 17)

If only the writings had been opened.

19.6The passive sdm.f with present or future meaning

Since it is tenseless, the passive sdm.f can refer to present/gnomic or future events as well as to those in the past: for example,

zpp zj m ḫt mjnt
rdjw zpw.f r gs.f m ḥw (Merikare 5, 9–10)

Whenever a man survives after dying,
his deeds are put beside him in heaps.⁴

Such uses of the passive sdm.f are much rarer than those referring to past or completed action. Middle Egyptian prefers the sdm.tw.f when the sdm.f has non-past meaning.

19.7The negated passive sdm.f

The passive sdm.f is normally negated by nj. This construction usually expresses the negation of action, ability, or necessity and is normally translated by the present tense in English, as in the corresponding construction with the sdm.n.f (§ 17.11): for example:

nj nḥm dp.j m .j (CT V, 62c M22C)

My head cannot be taken from me.

Although it usually corresponds to the English present tense, however, the negated passive can occur in contexts that require a past tense in translation: for instance,

nj srḫ.tw.j mm šnyt

nj gm wn.j m rw-prw (Urk. IV, 484, 9–10)

I was not denounced in the court,

no fault of mine could be found in the temples.

Note the difference here between the past negation nj srḫ.tw.j “I was not denounced,” with the sdm.f made passive by tw (§§ 18.3, 18.13), and the negated passive nj gm “could not be found”: the former expresses the negation of a past event; the latter, the negation of ability.

The negation nj sdm.f is the one instance in which the passive sdm.f is used with a suffix pronoun as its subject: for example,

jw.f rdj.w n.j

nj nḥm.f m .(j) (CT VI, 167a-b S10C)

It has been given to me:

it cannot be taken from me.

Here the stative is used for the first form, as usual for a pronominal subject, but the passive sdm.f is used for the second, since the stative cannot be negated. Normally, however, Middle Egyptian prefers the passive form of the sdm.n.f (e.g., nj nḥm.n.tw.f ) in such cases. In fact, the negated passive itself is relatively uncommon in Middle Egyptian, except in formal compositions or religious texts.

The negation nj sdm.f with the passive sdm.f is also the major place in which the geminated stem is found: for instance,

nj ḫf.j jn šw

nj mm.j jn krw (CT II, 112e)

I cannot be grasped by Shu,

I cannot be seized by the horizon-gods.⁵

It is not clear why Egyptian uses the geminated stem in the passive sdm.f, but it presumably has something to do with the stem’s connotation of normal, continual, or repetitive action (§ 12.4.2).

19.8The passive sdm.f in questions

In questions where the action of the verb itself is questioned, the passive sdm.f is usually introduced by the particles jn jw: for example,

(j)n jw wd sdm jt jn r(m)t nbt wpw ḥr (j)m(j)-r šnt (Kahun, pl. 30, 8–11)

Has it been ordered that a thief be tried by any people except the sheriff?⁶

These are known as predicate questions (§ 17.12). The passive sdm.f is not normally used in adjunct questions (where something other than the verb is questioned): for these Middle Egyptian prefers the sdm.n.tw.f. This use will be discussed in a later lesson.

THE BILITERAL-SUFFIX FORMS

19.9Forms

The sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f are each characterized by a biliteral suffix written after any determinative and before any other suffixes: jn and k (always with two uniliteral signs, not with the biliteral sign ). The following examples are given only for reference, since the verb forms are easily recognizable from their suffixes.

2-lit. | dd.jn.f (ShS. 111) “he said”; dd.ḫr.k (Ebers 36, 8) “you have to say”; dd.k (CT III, 148c) “will say”
2ae-gem. | m.jn.f (CT II, 334–335d) “he saw,” wn.jn.f (Westc. 2, 11) “he was”; m.ḫr.k (Ebers 36, 7) “you have to see,” wn.ḫr (CT V, 200b) and wnn.ḫr (BD 99 Nu) “has to be”; wn.k (Lacau & Chevrier, Hatshepsout, pl. 11) “will be”
3-lit. | ḥpt.jn (CT IV, 287d) “embraced”; tnm.ḫr.f (Peas. B1, 219) “he has to go astray”; ḥ.k.k (CT IV, 379b) “you will stand up”
3ae-inf. | j.jn.sn (Westc. 10, 11) “they washed”; jr.ḫr.k (Ebers 36, 9) “you have to make”; gm.k.k (CT II, 97c) “you will find”
4-lit. | hbhb.jn.k (Kahun, pl. 7, 68) “you knead”; ḫḫ.ḫr.tw (Smith 21, 11–12) “one has to winnow”; wnwn.k (CT IV, 83b) “will move about”
4ae-inf. | ḥms.k (CT VII, 467f) “will sit down”
caus. 2-lit. | sq.jn (Peas. B2, 130) “introduced”; smn.ḫr.tw (Smith 8, 19) “one has to set”; sḥd.k.k (CT IV, 357a) “you will brighten”
caus. 2ae-gem. | sšmm.ḫr.k “you have to heat” (Smith 22,2)
caus. 3-lit. | srwḫ.ḫr.k (Ebers 54, 20) “you have to treat”; swd.k.t(w) (CT II, 197c) “will be made sound”
caus. 4ae-inf. | ndr.ḫr.k (Ebers 107, 1) “you have to fasten”

anom.
The verb rdj “give, put” usually has the rdj stem: rdj.jn.sn (Westc. 11, 13) “they put,” rdj.ḫr.k (Ebers 36, 19) “you have to put,” rdj.k.t(w) (CT VII, 212o) “will be put,” but also dj.jn.f (Urk. IV, 158, 17) “ he put.” The verb jjj “come” normally uses the jw stem: jw.jn (Peas. R 14, 1) “came,” jw.ḫr (Urk. IV, 246, 14) “had to come,” jw.k.f (CT VI, 247l) “he will come,” but also jj.jn (BD 175) “came.”

Note that 2ae-gem. verbs can use either the biliteral or triliteral stem in the sdm.ḫr.f, and that the three forms can be made passive by the suffix tw added after the biliteral suffix, as in the sdm.n.f.

19.10The sdm.jn.f

The sdm.jn.f, which we have already met in the form wn.jn (§ 14.6), is the most common of the three biliteral-suffix forms. It denotes action that is consequent to a preceding action or state, a notion that can be expressed in English with the adverbs so or then. Most examples of the form involve either dd.jn.f “So, he said” or wn.jn with SUBJECT–ḥr-sdm or SUBJECT–stative: for example,

ḥ.n dd.n ddj ddwt.f m ḥkw

wn.jn p smn ḥ ḥr ḥbb (Westc. 5, 17–18)

Then Djedi said his sayings by magic.

So, the goose stood up, waddling.⁷

Here the sdm.jn.f of wnn is used to allow a SUBJECT–stative construction to express consequent action. The sdm.jn.f indicates that the action of the goose standing up was the consequence of the preceding action (Djedi’s magic spell). Although it could also be translated as “Then the goose stood up,” this is different from the “then” expressed by ḥ.n (in the first line), which indicates subsequent action. Sentences with ḥ.n can always be paraphrased by “Next …” and those with the sdm.jn.f by “Consequently … .”

Normally, the sdm.jn.f refers to past actions; it is most often found in stories. Like the other forms of the suffix conjugation, however, the sdm.jn.f has no tense of its own. As a result, it can also express consequent action in non-past contexts. This is particularly common in medical texts: for example,

jr ḫ.k zj ḥr mn r jb.f

rdj.jn.k drt.k ḥr.f (Ebers 40, 18–19)

If you evaluate a man because of the suffering of his stomach,

then you put your hand on it.⁸

19.11The sdm.ḫr.f

The sdm.ḫr.f is the ancestor of a construction we have already met, in which the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f is preceded by ḫr (§ 18.11). The younger construction has replaced the sdm.ḫr.f in Middle Egyptian, but religious and scientific texts seem to prefer the older verb form, and it shows up occasionally in other Middle Kingdom texts as well.

Like the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f after ḫr, the sdm.ḫr.f expresses necessary or inevitable action: for example,

jr ḫ.k zj n wbnw …

dr.ḫr.k wbnw.f (Smith 2, 3)

If you evaluate a man for a wound …

you have to probe his wound.

Although it can usually be translated by an English present tense, the sdm.ḫr.f itself is tenseless. For that reason it can also be used with reference to past or future actions: for instance,

wn.j wšd.j ḥmwt ḥr.s sbqw(j) ntj m bj() pn

dd.ḫr.sn jw mfkt m dw r nḥḥ (Sinai 90, 8–10)

I used to address the craftsmen about it, “How precious is what is in this mine!”

and they inevitably said, “Turquoise is always in the mountain.” ⁹

nḥm.k wj m ntrwj jpwj wj …

dd.ḫr.sn wj sw (Himmelskuh, 28–29)

May you save me from those two great gods …

and they will have to say, “How great he is!”

In these examples, the tense is set by the verb form or construction in the first clause and this in turn influences the tense of the sdm.ḫr.f form: wn.j wšd.j … dd.ḫr.sn “I used to address … and they inevitably said,” nḥm.k wj … dd.ḫr.sn “May you save me … and they will have to say.”

The sdm.ḫr.f of the verb wnn “exist” is normally used not as a verb in its own right (e.g., “he has to exist,” “he inevitably exists”) but as a means of allowing other verb forms and constructions to function like the sdm.ḫr.f. In the following sentence, for example, it imparts the meaning of the sdm.ḫr.f to a pseudoverbal predicate (in the first clause) and the SUBJECT-stative construction (in the second clause):

wn.ḫr.f ḥr sjn ḥ.f jm

wn.ḫr ḥw.f wd.(w) (CT V, 209i–j)

He has to be rubbing his limb with it,

and his limbs are inevitably freshened.

Such uses occur mostly in Middle Kingdom texts; by the time of the New Kingdom, wn.ḫr often seems to be little more than a stylistic variant of wn.jn (see §§ 14.6, 16.8).

19.12The sdm.k.f

The sdm.k.f is also the ancestor of a construction we have met, in which the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f is preceded by k (§ 18.11). It is mostly limited to religious texts and a few others that use archaic language, but it sometimes appears in other Middle Egyptian texts as well. Like its descendants, the sdm.k.f expresses consequence, usually future:

jr gm.k ntrw ḥmsy

ḥms.k.k r.k ḥn.sn (CT I, 273f–g)

When you find the gods seated,

then you will sit down with them.¹⁰

The negative counterpart of the sdm.k.f can be expressed by using the sdm.k.f of the negative verb tm plus the negatival complement: for example,

jr wdf ḫt(m) wd pw …

tm.k q stpwt r nmt-ntr (CT II, 174f–i)

If the sealing of this decree is delayed,

then choice cuts will not enter the god’s slaughterhouse.

More often, however, it is expressed by the future negation nn sdm.f (§ 18.14) or the older use of nj sdm.f with future meaning (see § 18.13 end). Thus, a different version of the text just cited has nj q stpwt r nmt-ntr (CT II, 166b) “choice cuts will not enter the god’s slaughterhouse.”

THE SDMT.F

19.13Form

The sdmt.f is distinguished by the ending –t, which is added directly to the verb stem. This feature is identified as an ending rather than a suffix because it is normally written as part of the verb stem itself, before any determinatives, unlike the suffixes n, jn, ḫr, and k. The sdmt.f has the following forms in Middle Egyptian:

2-lit. | rḫt.f (Beni Hasan I, pl. 41 c) “he knew”
2ae-gem. | nnt (CT II, 401a) “were tied”
3-lit. | sdmt (Amenemhat 2, 5) “heard”
3ae-inf. | jrt.j (Urk. IV, 2, 15) “I made.” The final radical j can be written as a double reed-leaf, usually when sdmt.f is passive but also in the active: jryt (CT II, 401b) “was made,” hyt.tn (CT V, 207c) “you have gone down.”
4ae-inf. | ḥmst.j (Amenemhat 2, 5) “I sat down”
caus. 2-lit. | srdt.k (CT I, 17b) “you have caused to grow”
caus. 3-lit. | snḫnt.j (CT I, 167f) “I reared”
caus. 5-lit. | snḫḫt.j (CT I, 176k) “I matured” (root snḫjḫj)
anom. | The verb rdj has the form djt.j (Sin. R 28) “I put.” The verb jjj is usually jt and jyt (CT II, 58c) “came,” jjt.f (ShS. 98) “it came,” but also jwt.n (Westc. 11, 16) “we have returned.”

The ending –t is sometimes written as –tw, to show that it was pronounced (see Essay 17): for example, sdmtw.j (Himmelskuh, 4) “I have heard” (for sdmt.j). Only rarely is it omitted, but this can happen when the verb stem ends in t or d: wtt (pRam. X, 1, 5) “were begotten” (for wttt),¹¹ rd (Naville, Iouiya, pl. 22) “grew” (for rdt).

19.14Uses of the sdmt.f

The sdmt.f is easy to recognize not only because of its ending but also because it is used in only three constructions in Middle Egyptian: negated (nj sdmt.f) and after the prepositions r and dr. It is normally active but can also be passive, usually without any difference in form.

The most common use of the sdmt.f in Middle Egyptian is in the negation nj sdmt.f. This means “he has not yet heard” but is normally translated “before he heard,” “before he has heard,” or “before he had heard”: for example,

ḫpr rn.k nj msyt r(m)t nj ḫprt ntrw (CT II, 400a)

Your identity evolved before people were born, before the gods evolved.

The construction r sdmt.f means “until he heard,” “until he has heard,” “until he had heard,” or “until he hears”: for instance,

m.k tw r jrt jbd ḥr jbd r kmt.k jbd 4 m hnw n jw pn (ShS. 117–19)

Look, you are to spend month upon month until you have completed four months inside this island.

The construction dr sdmt.f means “before he hears”: for example,

dd rn.j jn ztw dr ḫndt.k ḥr.j (CT V, 186f–g)

“Say my name,” says the ground, “before you step on me.”¹²

This is usually present rather than past.

The sdmt.f only seems to be used in these constructions, although the –t forms of the verbs jnj and jwj may be exceptions (§§ 18.2, 18.10). Other exceptions are limited to verbs of classes that have an infinitive with the ending –t (see § 14.3) and are therefore probably the infinitive instead of the sdmt.f:

wj jst ḥr.f mj rdjt.s wj.sj ḥr z.s ḥrw (MuK. 2, 10)

Isis’s hands are on him like her putting her hands on her son Horus.

19.15The sdmt.f of wnn

Like that of other verbs, the sdmt.f of the 2ae-gem. verb wnn “exist” is used most often in the negation nj wnt. Unlike the normal nj sdmt.f construction, however, nj wnt does not seem to be used with the meaning “before” or “not yet.” Instead, it regularly expresses the nonexistence of its subject, like nn and nn wn (§§ 11.4, 18.14): for example.

nj wnt js[w n] wn jb (Ptahhotep 315 L2)

There is no tomb for the greedy.

There seems to be little difference in meaning between nj wnt and the other two negations: compare nn jz n sbj “There is no tomb for the rebel” (§ 10.7) and nn wn jz n wn jb “There is no tomb for the greedy” (§ 18.14).

The sdmt.f of wnn after r is also different from that of other verbs. It means “until he is” rather than “until he has been”: for example,

ḥ(j)ḥj n.k zp nb mnḫ r wnt sḫrw.k nn jw jm.f (Ptahhotep 86–87 L2)

Seek for yourself every worthwhile deed, until your conduct has no wrongdoing in it (literally, “until your conduct, there is no wrongdoing in it”).

The sdmt.f of wnn does not seem to be used after the preposition dr.

19.16The meaning of the sdmt.f

The sdmt.f is a bit of a mystery, since it has only the limited uses described above. There is even some suspicion that it is not a form of the suffix conjugation at all but a verbal noun (§ 13.2). Whatever the sdmt.f is, its basic meaning is that of a relative future: it always denotes action that has not yet happened with respect to some other action or the moment of speaking. Like the other Middle Egyptian verb forms, however, it has no tense of its own, so the tense of the translations given above comes from the context. This characteristic of the sdmt.f can help you see the common thread between all the constructions discussed above.

The negation nj sdmt.f denies something that has not yet happened. It actually means something like “he has not yet heard.” The same basic meaning exists in nj wnt: “A tomb for the greedy has not yet existed” means essentially the same as “There is no tomb for the greedy.” Although nj sdmt.f is often set in the past, it can also refer to the present, as in nj wnt, or even to the future.

The tenseless nature of the sdmt.f is best seen in the constructions r sdmt.f and dr sdmt.f, because these can be translated with the perfect, present, or future in English without changing the meaning. For example, r kmt.k “until you have completed” in the second example of § 19.14 can also be translated “until you complete” or “until you will complete.” and dr ḫndt.k “before you step” in the the second-last example of § 19.14 can also be translated “before you have stepped” or “before you will step.” Similarly, r wnt “until there is” in the last example of § 19.15 can also be translated “until there has been” or “until there will be.”

Because the sdmt.f is so often translated with the English perfect, there is a tendency to think of it as expressing completed action, like the sdm.n.f. In reality, however, the two forms have opposite meanings; the sdm.n.f denotes completed action, while the sdmt.f expresses action that is yet to happen.

THE PARENTHETICS

19.17Definition

The speech of someone that is quoted within a text is known as a “direct quotation.” In English, such direct quotations are common features of stories and novels, where they are usually set off from the rest of the text by quotation marks. The speaker of the direct quotation is introduced by a word such as said: for example,

“I can’t make head or tail of this,” said Dr. Livesey.¹³

Here the words “I can’t make head or tail of this” are the direct quotation and “Dr. Livesey” is the speaker.

Since hieroglyphic writing has no quotation marks, it relies on other means to mark a direct quotation. In Middle Egyptian narratives, direct quotations are most often introduced by the words dd.jn or ḥ.n dd.n “then said” followed by the name of the speaker or by a noun or pronoun referring to the speaker. Occasionally, however, Middle Egyptian puts the reference to the speaker after the direct quotation or after its first few words (see the second-last example in § 19.14). In that case the speaker is introduced not by a form of the verb dd “say” but by one of three special words that are used only for this particular function. These introductory words are known as “parenthetics.”¹⁴

19.18Forms

The three Middle Egyptian parenthetics, in their most common form, are jn, ḫr, and or k. The last of these, k, appears only in this form, and may be identical with the particle k, which we have already met (§§ 15.6.15, 18.11). The other two look like the prepositions jn and ḫr (§§ 8.2.2, 8.2.13) but they sometimes have slightly different forms, which point to a different origin.

The parenthetic jn is occasionally spelled . This is actually the 3ms stative of an old verb j “say,” which is used only as a parenthetic, followed by the preposition jn: i.e., j.(w) jn. When the speaker is feminine, the 3fs form j.t(j) jn is used. In addition, the normal form can be followed by the 3pl pronoun sn. In this case, is probably the sdm.n.f j.n.sn rather than the prepositional phrase jn.sn, since the preposition jn is not used with personal pronouns (§ 8.2.2). The parenthetic jn thus has the following forms in Middle Egyptian:

[picture] | jn NOUN: jn r (CT I, 76i) “says the Sun”
[picture] | j.(w) jn NOUN: j.(w) jn jsjr (CT I, 107b) “says Osiris”
[picture] | j.t(j) jn NOUN: j.t(j) jn jmnt (CT I, 121b) “says the West”
[picture] | j.n.sn: j.n.sn (CT III, 48g) “they say” j.n.sn NOUN: j.n.sn ntrw (CT III, 86h) “say the gods.”

The first and last of these are the most common. The form NOUN could represent j.n with a nominal subject, but it could also derive from the stative constructions j.(w) jn NOUN and j.t(j) jn NOUN with the stative omitted.

The parenthetic ḫr occasionally has the fuller spellings like the noun ḫrw “voice,” to which it may be related. It is always used with a suffix pronoun, sometimes followed by a noun, or with the impersonal pronoun tw:

ḫr.f (CT II, 159e) “he says”

ḫr.sn ntrw (CT I, 92b) “say they, the gods”

ḫr.tw (Urk. IV, 1075, 10) “they say” (literally, “says one”).

Sometimes ḫr appears in the form ḫr.fj. This is always followed by a noun, a dependent pronoun, or a dependent pronoun with a following noun: for instance,

ḫr.fj dḥwtj (CT IV, 94q) “says Thoth”

ḫr.fj sw (Kahun, pl. 29, 42) “said he”

ḫr.fj st (JEA 31, pl. 3A, 13) “said they”

ḫr.fj sn ntrw (BD 52 Nu) “say they, the gods”

The parenthetic k always seems to be used with a suffix pronoun, without a following noun, or with the impersonal pronoun tw: for example,

k.k (Kahun, pl. 31, 16) “you shall say”

k.tw (Peas. B1, 160) “one will say.”

19.19Meaning and use

All three parenthetics correspond to the English verb say in its parenthetic use, and are usually translated by a form of this verb. The parenthetics jn and ḫr can be either past or present (“said,” “says”); k seems to be exclusively future (“will say”).

The parenthetics are only used with a direct quotation. They either follow the entire quotation or are inserted near its beginning, but they never precede it. An example of jn inside a direct quotation has already been cited in § 19.14, above. Examples with ḫr and k are:

m.k dd.n n.j (j)m(j)-r ḥwt-ntr ttj

m.k rdj.n.j wd jb.f r.s gr ḫr.fj sw (Kahun, pl. 29, 41–42)

Look, temple-overseer Teti said to me,

“Look, I have also informed him about it,” said he

k hb.k n.j ḥr.s

nj jn.tw m db()w jrj k.k n.j ḥr.s gr (Kahun, pl. 31, 13–16)

Then you shall send (word) to me about it:

“Nothing has been gotten in exchange for them,” you shall say to me about it also.¹⁵

In Middle Egyptian, the parenthetic jn seems to be limited to religious texts, but it becomes quite common again in Late Egyptian in the form j.n.f “he said.” The parenthetics ḫr and k occur throughout Middle Egyptian.

You may have noticed the similarity between the three parenthetics and the suffixes of the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f. On the basis of form and meaning there can be little doubt that the parenthetic k and the sdm.k.f are related, and that both are related in turn to the particle k. In fact, the parenthetic can be regarded as a use of the sdm.k.f or the k.f sdm.f construction with the verb dd “say” left unexpressed: i.e., k.k “you shall say” = (dd).k.k or k.k (dd.k). In this respect the parenthetic k is comparable to the preposition ḥr used for ḥr (dd) “saying” (§ 14.7).

The relationship between the suffixed forms and the other two parenthetics is less certain. Although the parenthetics jn and ḫr are often spelled like the suffixes of the sdm.jn.f and sdm.ḫr.f, they are probably not related to those suffixes. Parenthetic jn comes either from the sdm.n.f of the old verb j “say” (j.n) or from the related construction j.(w)/j.t(j) jn with the stative omitted, and parenthetic ḫr seems to be derived from the noun ḫrw “voice,” but there is no evidence that the verbal suffixes jn and ḫr have the same origins. Moreover, the parenthetic ḫr does not have the necessary or inevitable connotation of the sdm.ḫr.f.

ESSAY 19. MIDDLE EGYPTIAN WISDOM LITERATURE

Insofar as their works are known, the writers mentioned at the end of the last essay were all authors of the kind of texts that we call wisdom literature. This genre, which the Egyptians called sbyt “instruction,” seems to have been the most popular form of literature among the Egyptians themselves. More compositions of this type have come down to us than any other form of ancient Egyptian secular literature.

Although we have only one copy of some wisdom texts, most survive in more than one copy, from several to more than a hundred. Some of the copies we have were written on papyrus by accomplished scribes, for preservation or perhaps for their own pleasure. The best of these date to the Middle Kingdom. Most, however, were written on flakes of limestone, called “ostraca” (OSS-tra-ka, singular, “ostracon”), by New Kingdom schoolboys copying a master text or taking dictation from their teacher. Being school texts, they are often full of errors, and this makes the understanding of many passages conjectural or even impossible; but they also provide a witness to the affection and reverence the Egyptians had for this particular form of their literature.

Middle Egyptian wisdom texts can be divided into three categories. The oldest are instructions for living, in which the author records his advice for a proper and successful life. Most were written in the name of famous officials, for the edification of their sons. Three are attributed to officials of the Old Kingdom: an unnamed vizier instructing his sons, one of whom, named Kagemni, is said to have been appointed vizier by the pharaoh Snefru in Dynasty 4; Hardjedef (or Djedefhor), a son of the pharaoh Khufu of the 4th Dynasty; and Ptahhotep, a vizier of the pharaoh Isesi, from the end of Dynasty 5. These are sometimes described as literary compositions of the Old Kingdom, but the earliest manuscripts are written in Middle Egyptian and date to the Middle Kingdom, so there is little doubt that they are actually Middle Kingdom compositions. Nonetheless, Hardjedef and Ptahhotep were venerated by later generations of Egyptians as the authors of the wisdom texts ascribed to them. Another early instruction that has not survived was ascribed to Imhotep, architect of the Step Pyramid of Djoser (Dynasty 3), who was later deified as the patron of knowledge.

These instructions include a range of advice, from correct social behavior to proper conduct toward superiors and subordinates. Their purpose is the transmission of Maat (right and proper behavior) both for its own sake and as the key to a happy and successful life. The individual who lives according to Maat is often described as gr “the quiet man” or “the still man”—that is, the calm and self-effacing person—or rḫ “the knowledgeable man,” as opposed to wḫ “the fool.”

Several other instructions that belong in this category are the anonymous and fragmentary Instruction of a Man for His Son; an instruction on loyalty to and reverence for the kingship, known as the Loyalist Instruction, which was attributed to Kaires (see the end of Essay 18); and the Instruction of Khety, another of the revered ancient sages. The last is the most well-attested of all wisdom texts, surviving in more than a hundred copies, most of which were written as exercises by schoolboys. Its popularity as a school text no doubt derives from the fact that it is a commentary on ancient Egyptian trades: it contrasts the miserable life of manual workers, such as fishermen and artisans, with the comfortable and respected occupation of a scribe.

A second type of wisdom literature deals with the proper conduct of the kingship. This category includes two texts supposedly written by kings for their successors. The Instruction for Merikare is addressed to a pharaoh of Dynasty 10 by his father, although it was composed in the New Kingdom. Besides advice on the management of the country and subordinates, this text includes a long discourse on the relationship between human beings and the god (cited in part at the end of Essay 5). The Instruction of Amenemhat contains advice of Amenemhat I, first king of Dynasty 12, for his son and successor, Senwosret I. Also composed in the New Kingdom, it is famous for its description of an attempted assassination of Amenemhat by elements of the royal guard, which may or may not have been successful. Based on this experience, the king warns his son not to be too trusting of subordinates.

The third category of Middle Egyptian wisdom literature is often called “admonitions.” These texts are descriptions or prophecies of adverse times in Egypt, when the country is overrun by outsiders and the normal social order is turned upside down. The earliest such text is probably the Lamentations of Khakheperre-seneb, preserved in a single copy of 18th-Dynasty date, which reproduces only the beginning of the text. The original may have been composed in the Middle Kingdom; the name of its author honors the pharaoh Senwosret II, whose throne name was Khakheperre. Its complaints are general in character; the author several times calls upon his mind (jb) to relieve his anxiety by explaining how to bear up under his misery.

Two other admonitions were written in Dynasty 18 and reflect the disturbances of the Second Intermediate Period. The Prophecies of Neferti are set in the time of the pharaoh Snefru and detail the predictions of a sage named Neferti about a future time when Egypt will be thrown into chaos by the incursion of Asiatics into the Delta. In the end, Neferti foretells the coming of a king from southern Egypt who will reunite the country and bring order and prosperity. The king is named Ameny, a nickname of Amenemhat I, and the text is intended to contrast the reign of his new dynasty (the 12th) with the disorder of the preceding First Intermediate Period. The text called the Admonitions of Ipuwer is similar in content to the Prophecies of Neferti. It survives only in a single lengthy manuscript, dating to the 19th Dynasty; its beginning and end are lost. Although it too bemoans a time when the country is in chaos, it contains no specific historical references. Certain features of its grammar and vocabulary, however, point to a New Kingdom origin and indicate that the time of troubles in this case is the Second Intermediate Period.

Another unique Middle Egyptian text, known as the Dialogue of a Man with His Soul, is closely related to the genre of admonitions, particularly the Lamentations of Khakheperre-seneb. This is of undisputed Middle Kingdom origin, since its sole surviving copy was written in the early 12th Dynasty; its beginning is lost. The text takes the form of a debate between a man and his ba (see Essay 7)—essentially, therefore, a dialogue of a man with himself. The man is torn between life in this world, which is certain but full of misery, and the attraction of life after death, which promises to be happy but which is also unknown and uncertain. In the end, the ba advises the man to accept his life while looking forward to a better existence in the next world.

Despite their differences in content, the three categories of Middle Egyptian wisdom texts have several features in common. The single theme underlying them all is that of Maat (see Essay 10). The instructions for living explain how to behave in accordance with Maat in order to achieve happiness and success; the royal instructions contain advice for the proper and successful conduct of kingship; and the admonitions promote Maat by describing the disastrous state of a world in which this principle of order is ignored.

Common to all the wisdom texts as well is a general rather than specific view of the divine. Instead of invoking specific deities, the texts usually just refer to ntr “the god.” It is a matter of some debate whether this is meant as a general term—i.e., “any god”—or as a more specific reference to the underlying unity of all gods (see Essays 4 and 15). Conceivably, however, the use of this term simply reflects the secular origin of wisdom literature, composed by officials and learned men who meant their compositions for a wide audience and who had themselves a broader or more general view of the divine than that of any one theological system.

EXERCISE 19

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1.
(Westc. 8, 17–20)

2. (Adm. 6, 7–8)

3. (Adm. 11, 13)

4. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 715–16)

5. (Neferti 47) — ntj “the one who”

6.
(Helck, HBT, 23–24)

7. (ShS. 97–98) — sr.sn “they could predict”

8. (Helck, HBT, 94)

9. (Himmelskuh, 3–4) — ddtj.tn “what you might say”

10. (Peas. B2, 27–28) — ntt “that which”

11. (Himmelskuh, 25)

12. (JEA 31, pl. 5A)

13. (CT VII, 418c–419c

14. (CT III, 86f–i)

15. (Peas. B1, 214)

16. (CT I, 242f)

17.
(CT V, 199g–200b)

18.
(BD 6 Nu) — Chapter 6 of the Book of the Dead; jpn for pn; the English letter N stands for the name of the deceased.

1 The first form shown is the most common. Translations use the passive participle only, without a form of the verb be, except for examples with pronominal suffixes.

2 The first “arm” sign is for the biliteral sign ḫw.

3 That is, a noun or noun phrase, anything that is equivalent to a noun or noun phrase (such as an adjective: for example, wrt “the great one”), or any pronoun except a personal pronoun.

4 This adage refers to the final judgment. zpp is a use of the sdm.f we will discuss in Lesson 25; mjnt is the infinitive of mjnj “moor,” a euphemism for “die.”

5 A statement that the deceased is not restricted to the sky (Shu) or earth (horizon-gods). The krw represent the forces of the earth, often imagined as serpents.

6 Literally, “has the hearing of a thief been ordered”: sdm is the infinitive, serving as the subject of the passive wd. The noun rmt “people” is sometimes treated as a feminine collective (§ 4.6). The title jmj-r šnt “sheriff” means literally “overseer of disputes.”

7 For ḥr ḥbb, see § 13.11.1.

8 The verb ḫj “examine” is abbreviated

9 For wn.j wšd.j see § 18.9. ntj “what is” is a relative adjective, discussed in Lesson 22.

10 ḥmsy is the 3pl stative (§ 16.2). This use of it is discussed in the next lesson.

11 The root is 3-lit. wtt, originally wtt.

12 jn “says” is discussed later in this lesson.

13 This example is taken from the novel Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson.

14 Referring to the term parenthesis, which Webster’s Dictionary defines as “A word, phrase, or sentence, by way of comment or explanation, inserted in, or attached to, a sentence grammatically complete without it.”

15 For k hb.k see § 18.11. The statement nj jn.tw m db()w jrj means literally “one has not gotten (anything) as exchange thereunto,” with the negated sdm.f (§ 18.13); jrj is a prepositional adverb (§§ 8.2.7, 8.15).

20.ADVERB CLAUSES

20.1Definitions

The sentences we have dealt with so far consist of words and phrases, with some serving as the subject and others as the predicate of the sentence (at this point you may want to reread the discussion of subject and predicate in § 7.1). We have also seen some of the rules that Egyptian uses to make these combinations. The set of rules that a language uses to combine words into phrases and sentences is called syntax. It is a rule of Egyptian syntax, for example, that an adjectival predicate normally comes before its subject, whereas English syntax dictates the reverse: nfr sḫrw “The plans are good.”

Sentences in every language consist of one or more clauses. The term “clause” means “the combination of a subject and a predicate.” Like phrases, clauses are combinations of words. The difference between phrases and clauses is that a clause always contains a subject and predicate, while a phrase does not. Some combinations of Egyptian words can only be phrases or clauses: for example, nfr r ḫt nb “better than anything” (a phrase) and nfr sw “He is good” (a clause). Others can be either a phrase or a clause, depending on how they are used (see § 7.17): for instance, nfr sḫrw “good of plans” (a phrase) or “The plans are good” (a clause).

Sentences with a single clause are the most basic kind of sentence in a language. All languages, however, have the ability to make sentences consisting of several clauses, not just one. The English sentence Jack is happy when he is with Jill has two clauses: Jack is happy (subject Jack, predicate is happy) and when he is with Jill (subject he, predicate is with Jill).

When a clause can stand by itself as a complete sentence, it is called a main clause or independent clause; a clause that cannot do this is known as a subordinate clause or dependent clause. In the sentence Jack is happy when he is with Jill, the first clause is independent because it could be a complete sentence (Jack is happy); the second clause, however, cannot stand by itself (when he is with Jill), so it is a subordinate or dependent clause. All sentences must have at least one main clause. A sentence with more than one clause can have a main clause and one or more subordinate clauses, or it can have several independent clauses. An English example of the latter is Jack is happy, Jill is sad; an Egyptian example is the sentence discussed in § 11.11.1: mw jm nn mw jm “Is water there, (or) is water not there?”

There are several different kinds of subordinate clauses, as we will see in the course of the next few lessons. For Middle Egyptian, subordinate clauses are normally identified in terms of their function, as adverb clauses, noun clauses, and relative clauses. These act syntactically in many of the same ways that adverbs, nouns, and adjectives do.

20.2Marked and unmarked adverb clauses

English has two basic ways to make subordinate clauses: by means of words such as when or by context alone. The first are called marked subordinate clauses and the second, unmarked or virtual subordinate clauses. An example of the latter is Jack is happy Jill won (tells why Jack is happy). In this case, Jill won could be a complete sentence but is instead subordinated to the first clause, Jack is happy; there is nothing other than the context to indicate that it is subordinate rather than an independent statement.

Egyptian uses the same two methods for making its subordinate clauses. In this lesson, we will look at marked and unmarked adverb clauses.

An adverb clause acts like an adverb, telling where, when, why, or how something happens or is true (§ 8.11). Adverb clauses are also known as circumstantial clauses, because they often describe the circumstances under which another clause is true. In the English sentence Jack is happy today, the adverb today tells when Jack is happy. Prepositional phrases also function as adverbs in many cases (§ 8.11): for example, in the English sentence Jack is depressed in the winter, the prepositional phrase in the winter describes when Jack is depressed. Adverb clauses have the same function as adverbs and prepositional phrases, as can be seen in the following English sentences: Jack is happy sitting in first class (tells where Jack is happy), Jack is happy when he is with Jill (tells when Jack is happy), Jack is happy because Jill won or Jack is happy Jill won (tells why Jack is happy), Jack is happy, smiling from ear to ear (tells how Jack is happy).

MARKED ADVERB CLAUSES

20.3Adverb clauses with jst

The particle jst (also jsk, sk: § 15.6.5) is the most common way to mark an adverb clause. It is used with adjectival, adverbial, and pseudo-verbal predicates as well as with the SUBJECT–stative construction and the sdm.f: for example,

šms twt n mḥ 13 m jnr n ḥwt-nbw

jst št wrt wt jt.n.f ḥr.s (Bersheh I, pl. 14, 1)

Accompanying the statue of 13 cubits, of stone of Hatnub,

although the way it came on was very remote¹

wd pw jr.n ḥm.f m dpt-ntr

jst ḥw pn grg.(w) m skwt (Helck, HBT, 24)

What His Incarnation did was to proceed in the god’s boat,

while this flotilla was furnished with troop-ships²

njs.n.tw n w jm jst wj ḥ.kw (Sin. R 24)

One of them was called to as I was standing (by).

As the last example illustrates, jst is followed by the dependent form of a personal pronoun, like m.k.

You may have noticed that the preceding examples with jst were translated in English with different introductory words: “although” and “while,” and “as.” The use of such words in translation is often a matter of personal preference on the part of the translator. In Egyptian the particle jst merely serves to mark a clause as subordinate in some way. Sometimes the jst clause is clearly adverbial in meaning—as it is in the last example. In other cases, however, the subordination is not so clear, and English has to resort to a less specific word to introduce the clause, such as “for” or “and.”

Clauses with jst usually follow the main clause. Occasionally, however, the jst clause comes first, in which case it is usually followed by r.f (§ 15.7) and is often best translated as an independent sentence with a vague word of relation such as “now.”³ An example occurs in the story of Sinuhe (discussed in the Essay below), when the king introduces Sinuhe to his wife and children:

dd.jn.sn ḫft ḥm.f jn ntf pw m mt jtj nb.j

dd.jn ḥm.f ntf pw m mt

jst r.f jn.n.sn … zššwt.sn m .sn

mz.jn.sn st n ḥm.f (Sin. B 266–69)

So, they said in response to His Incarnation, “Is it really he, sire my lord?,”

and His Incarnation said, “It is really he.”

Now, they had brought … their sistra in their hand;

so, they presented them to His Incarnation.

Although jst can be translated as “now,” however, it is actually a mark of subordination. Since the jst clause here clearly does not belong with the preceding sentence, it must be subordinate to the clause that follows. A more precise translation is, “So, since they had brought … their sistra in their hand, they presented them to His Incarnation.”

As you can see, the translation of a jst clause depends both on the context in which it is used and on the translator’s sense of what works best in English. This is another case where English is more specific than Egyptian. The important thing to remember is that jst serves to mark a clause as subordinate. Such clauses often function specifically as adverbs, describing when, why, or how a main clause happens or is true, in which case a translation with conjunctions such as “when, while, as, although, since” is appropriate. But they can also be more loosely related to a preceding or following clause, and in that case they are sometimes better translated as independent sentences introduced by a word such as “now.”

20.4Adverb clauses with tj

The particle tj (§ 15.6.16) is apparently related to the word tjw “yes” (§ 15.8.5). Its basic meaning may be similar to that of the archaic English word Yea (as in “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death”: Psalm 23), but this rendering is not used in modern translations.

The particle tj is much less common than jst, but it is used in the same way. It stands at the head of an adverb clause, marking it as subordinate, and takes a dependent pronoun. The clause itself can have an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate, or a verbal one such as the sdm.n.f or the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction, and can follow or precede the main clause: for example,

jw.j m jr(j) rdwj.f tj sw ḥr prjw (Urk. IV, 890, 11–12)

I was his attendant⁴ when he was on the battlefield

tj ḥm.f jt.n.f jwt.f ḥtp.n.f tntt-ḥrw

rsw(j)w m ḫd mḥtjw m ḫnt (Urk. IV, 83, 1–9)

Once His Incarnation had taken his inheritance and occupied Horus’s dais …

the southerners were going downstream and the northerners upstream.⁵

20.5Adverb clauses with js

The enclitic particle js (§ 15.7.3) can be used to subordinate nominal sentences as adverb clauses: for instance,

mn.j njw ḥn jmn jnk js ḫj pr (CT VII, 470a-b)

I will see (§ 18.2) Niu and Amun, since I am an equipped akh.

In a few cases, the adverb clause can also be introduced by jst:

jw.n.j ḫt nt r jst jnk js nb-tm (CT VII, 321a–b)

I have inherited the Akhet of the Sun, for I am the Lord-of-All.

Most examples are similar to these: the adverb clause has a nominal predicate, always follows the main clause, and supplies either a reason why the main clause is true or an additional statement. Usually such clauses are best translated in English with the linking words “since, for” or “and” at the head of the adverb clause. Adverb clauses of this type occur primarily in older religious texts.

UNMARKED ADVERB CLAUSES

20.6Predicates and syntax

Although Egyptian could use jst, tj, or js to mark an adverb clause, most of its adverb clauses have no special marking to indicate their function. They look just like independent sentences, and only the context in which they are used indicates that they are subordinate rather than main clauses. Such clauses can have adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicates, or verbal predicates with the stative, SUBJECT–stative, sdm.n.f, sdm.f, SUBJECT– sdm.f, and passive sdm.f, as well as a number of negations. Some of the particles that can introduce a main clause can also be found in unmarked adverb clauses, particularly jw. Unlike clauses marked by jst or tj, however, unmarked adverb clauses always follow the main clause.

20.7Unmarked adverb clauses with adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate

All kinds of adverbial predicates can be used in unmarked adverb clauses, but of the pseudo-verbal predicates only SUBJECT–ḥr-sdm is common in this use. When the subject is a personal pronoun, it is introduced by jw. Examples are:

ḥmw hr dp.f ḥr mm n.f ky ḥr sjn rdwj.fj (Westc. 7, 15–16)

A servant was at his head giving him a massage, while another was rubbing his feet

sdm.n.j ḫrw.f jw.f ḥr mdt (Sin. B 1–2)

I heard his voice as he was speaking

m s.k bjn mš.j m s.k (Helck, HBT, 91)

Your back will see badness when my army is after you⁶

d pr.(w) jw.n m wd-wr (ShS. 32–33)

A windstorm came up when we were at sea.⁷

In each of these examples the second clause describes an adverbial circumstance that applies to the first, main clause. Note that in each case the English translation provides a word to introduce the second clause (“while,” “as,” and “when”). Such words are supplied by the English translator: they do not exist in the Egyptian sentences. In fact, in each of these examples the second clause could theoretically be an independent sentence by itself; only the context indicates that it is actually subordinate to the preceding clause. Since this is so, the translation is partly a matter of preference, and other translations are often equally possible (though not always equally good): for example,

m s.k bjn mš.j m s.k

Your back will see badness, with my army after you.

Your back will see badness, my army after you.

Your back will see badness, since my army is after you.

Obviously, unmarked adverb clauses in Middle Egyptian are less specific than English adverb clauses about the exact nature of the adverbial relationship with the main clause. In most cases the context only offers a range of possibilities. The adverb clause in this example, for instance, could indicate either why the first clause is true (“since”) or when it is true (“when”). In the last example above, however, the adverb clause only describes when the first clause happened, not why.

To some extent, therefore, how you understand the context will determine how you translate an unmarked adverb clause—or whether you understand it as an adverb clause at all, rather than as an independent sentence. There are no hard and fast rules that can be offered to guide you, but you will discover that the context itself is generally a pretty good guide.

20.8Unmarked adverb clauses with the stative

Both the SUBJECT–stative construction and the stative itself are used in unmarked adverb clauses. In the first case, if the subject is a personal pronoun, it is introduced by jw:

nt m ḫd jn ḥm.f jb.f w.(w) (Urk. IV, 5, 12–13)

Sailing downstream by His Incarnation, his mind happy⁸

jnk šd drt.f jw.f nḫ.(w) (Urk. IV, 894, 1)

I was the one who cut off his hand, while he was (still) alive.⁹

The second clause in each of these examples could be an independent sentence—jb.f w.(w) “his mind was happy,” jw.f nḫ.(w) “he was alive”—but the context in which it is used indicates that it is meant to be adverbial. Each is a circumstantial clause describing a state pertaining when the action of the main clause took place.

The stative is also, and more often, used by itself in an unmarked adverb clause: for instance,

jr.n.j hrw 3 w.kw jb.j m snnw.j

sdr.kw m hnw n kp n ḫt (ShS. 41–44)

I spent three days alone, my mind as my (only) companion,

lying inside a thicket (literally, “a private place of wood”).

This example has three circumstantial clauses, describing how the action of the main clause (“I spent three days”) took place. The second adverb clause has an adverbial predicate; the first and third, a stative predicate: w.kw “(I was) alone” (stative of the verb wj “be alone,” related to the number w “one”), and sdr.kw “(I was) lying” (stative of the verb sdr “lie down”).

The stative is very often used in an unmarked adverb clause after the verbs wrš “spend the day,” sdr “lie down, go to bed, go to sleep, spend the night,” and gmj “find.” With wrš and sdr, the stative’s subject is normally identical with the subject of the preceding verb, and the stative decribes the state in which the subject “spends the day” or “lies, spends the night”: for example,

wrš.s ḥqr.t(j) (Kahun, pl. 5, 33–34)

She should spend the day hungry

m.tn nb ḫwt sdr.(w) jb.(w) (Adm. 7, 10–11)

Look, the property-owner has gone to bed thirsty.

In the first of these examples the adverb clause explains how the subject (.s “she”) is to “spend the day”: namely, ḥqr.t(j) “hungry” (from ḥqr “hunger, become hungry”). In the second, the stative jb.(w) “thirsty” (from jbj “thirst, become thirsty”) describes how the subject (nb ḫwt, literally “the owner of things”) has “gone to bed”: the main clause is a SUBJECT–stative construction expressing the past tense with an intransitive verb (§ 17.6).

When the stative is used in an adverb clause after gmj “find,” its subject is normally the same as the object of the verb: for instance,

gm.n.f zj ḥ.(w) ḥr mryt (Peas. R 6, 4–5)

He found a man standing on the riverbank.

Here the stative ḥ.(w) “standing” describes the state that the man was in when he was found: zj “a man” is the object of gm.n.f “he found.”

It is not always clear why Egyptian prefers the SUBJECT–stative construction in some unmarked adverb clauses and the stative without a preceding subject in others. Normally, however, when the stative is used without a preceding subject its subject has already appeared in some form in an earlier clause. This relationship can be seen in each of the examples cited above. In fact, it is much more common for an adverb clause with the stative as predicate to have a subject that has already been mentioned in a preceding clause than to have an entirely new subject. As a result, in most adverb clauses the stative has no preceding subject: examples of the SUBJECT–stative construction in unmarked adverb clauses are actually much less frequent than those of the stative by itself.

The following can therefore be offered as a good rule of thumb for adverb clauses with the stative as predicate:

when the subject of the stative has not already appeared in a preceding clause, it naturally has to be expressed, so the SUBJECT–stative construction is used, as in the first example of this section;

when the stative’s subject is identical with something that has been previously mentioned in the sentence, the stative is normally used by itself, without a preceding subject (as in the last three examples).

There are no exceptions to the first part of this rule. The second part of the rule is generally true, but there are some cases where it is not—for instance, the second example in this section. You should also note that this rule applies only in unmarked adverb clauses. When the adverb clause is marked by jst or tj (§§ 20.3–4), the SUBJECT– stative construction is used, whether the stative’s subject has already been mentioned in a preceding clause or not.

20.9The stative in epithets

A special kind of unmarked dependent clause using the stative without a preceding subject occurs as an epithet after nouns or proper names. There are two major uses of such clauses in Middle Egyptian.

1)Expressions for “whole, complete, entire”

The stative of the verbs tm “complete,” dmdj (originally dmdj) “join,” and t(w)t “reconcile” can be used as an equivalent of the English adjectives “whole, complete, entire, full”: for example, psdt tm.tj (Helck, HBT, 23) “the complete Ennead,” njwt dmd.t(j) (Bersheh I, pl. 14, 14) “the whole village,” spt.s t(w)t.(tj)¹⁰ (ASAE 23, 6) “her entire nome.” These are actually a kind of adverb clause: literally, “the Ennead, completed,” “the village, joined,” and “her nome, reconciled.”

2)Wishes for life and health

In § 16.6 we saw how the stative can be used as a wish or command. The stative can also be used as a kind of wish after proper names or certain nouns or noun phrases. The most common examples of this use involve the expressions nḫ.tj “alive,” nḫ.(w) dt “alive forever,” and (an abbreviation for nḫ.w wd.w snb.w “alive, sound, and healthy”). The first of these is often placed after the names of queens and princesses; the second, after the name of the king: for example,

ntr nfr ḪPR-K-R nḫ.(w) dt (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 2)

The young god Kheperkare (Senwosret I), alive forever.

The third expression, commonly abbreviated “lph” in translations,¹¹ is also placed after words referring to the king, such as ḥm.f “His Incarnation” and jty “sire” (see Essay 6); after words or phrases referring to the palace, such as pr- “big house” (see Essay 3), pr-nswt “king’s house,” and stp-z “palace”; and after the phrase nb or nb.j “the lord, my lord” referring either to the king or to a high official: for instance,

tjw jw.j rḫ.kw jty nḫ.w wd.w snb.w nb.j (Westc. 8, 14)

Yes, I know, sire lph, my lord.

Related to this use is the expression snb.tj nḫ.tj “you being healthy and alive” or “may you be healthy and alive,” which is used as a polite wish to soften a request, somewhat like the English expression “if you please”: for example,

ntk hb.k ḥr mdwt m ḥr.k snb.t(j) nḫ.tj (Kahun, pl. 31, 6–7)

It is you who should send (word) about your responsibilities, if you please.¹²

20.10Unmarked adverb clauses with the sdm.n.f

Besides expressing completed action or past events in main clauses, the sdm.n.f is also commonly used in unmarked adverb clauses to denote prior circumstance. In this function the sdm.n.f basically indicates an action that has been completed prior to the action or circumstance described in the main (or governing) clause. Such clauses can have various translations in English: for example,

ht pw jr.n sḫtj pn r kmt tp.n.f w.f (Peas. R 1, 7)

What this peasant did was to go down to Egypt, when he had loaded his donkeys—or

What this peasant did was to go down to Egypt, after loading his donkeys—or

What this peasant did was to go down to Egypt, having loaded his donkeys.

Whichever translation is used, the sdm.n.f in the adverb clause describes an action that was completed before the action of the main clause took place (the farmer loaded his donkeys before setting off). When the sdm.n.f of the verb jnj “get, fetch” is used in an adverb clause it can often be translated by the English gerund “bringing”: for example,

m.tn wj j.kw jn.n.j n.f rtj (CT VII, 271c–272a)

Look, I have come, bringing him two jawbones.

Although the translation “bringing” suggests an action that happens at the same time as that of the main clause, however, this is only a feature of English. In Egyptian the adverb clause denotes prior circumstance, as can be seen in the more literal translation “having gotten two jawbones for him.”

Sometimes the action described by the sdm.n.f not only precedes that of another clause but also provides the reason for it. In such cases the adverb clause can be translated with the introductory words “because,” “since,” or “for”: for instance,

ḥ.n rdj.n.f n.(j) nn rḫ.n.f jqr jst .(j) (TPPI, § 20, 6)

Then he gave me this, because he knew the excellence of my action.¹³

Such clauses can be translated in English not only with an introductory word denoting causality (such as “because”) but also in the same way as other clauses of prior circumstance: in this case, “having learned of the excellence of my action,” similar to “having loaded his donkeys” and “having gotten two jawbones for him” in the previous examples. This is because the notion of causality comes from the context, not from the verb form or construction itself.

Most adverb clauses with the sdm.n.f are unmarked. It can therefore be difficult to interpret the sequence of events in some passages. Compare, for example, the following two sentences from the same story:

ḥ.n.j m(w)t.kw n.sn gm.n.j st m hyt wt (ShS. 131–32)

Then I died for them, after I found them as one pile of corpses¹⁴

ḥ.n.j šm.kw r smjt st gm.n.j sw rḫ.(w) st (ShS. 157)

Then I went to report it, and I found him (already) aware of it.

In the first example the gm.n.j clause describes an event that happened before that of the main clause (the speaker first found the “pile of corpses,” then “died” of grief); in the second example it describes an event that happened after that of the main clause (the speaker first “went to report it” and then “found him aware of it”). There is nothing in the verb forms or the syntax of either example to indicate this sequence of events: only the logic of the sentences themselves reveals it.

The reason for this apparent ambiguity lies in a basic difference between the grammar of Egyptian and that of English. Our language forces us to treat the gm.n.j clause in the first example as a marked subordinate (or dependent) clause: “after I found them” (or “when I had found them”). In Egyptian, however, it is subordinate only by context: it is dependent because it follows another clause to which it is logically related. In another context it could be an independent clause in its own right (“I found them as one pile of corpses”). This kind of relationship can be difficult for speakers of English to appreciate. Our language allows grammatically independent clauses to be contextually subordinate in some kinds of subordinate clauses (for example, he said he didn’t do it and the year she went to Paris) but not often in adverb clauses. Egyptian, however, does allow contextual dependence in adverb clauses, as the first example above illustrates. Even though we analyze the gm.n.j clause in the first sentence as an adverb clause of prior circumstance, therefore, it is actually no different grammatically from the gm.n.j clause in the second example, which describes action that happened after that of the main clause. Only the context indicates which sequence of events is intended, just as it indicates that the first gm.n.j clause is subordinate to the preceding clause rather than an independent statement in its own right.

20.11Unmarked adverb clauses of concomitant circumstance with the sdm.f

As is true in main clauses, the sdm.f has the widest range of meanings in unmarked adverb clauses. One of the most important is to express concomitant action: that is, action going on at the same time as that of the preceding or governing clause. Both the sdm.f itself and the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction are used in unmarked adverb clauses, and in this case both have essentially the same meaning.

Most adverb clauses with the sdm.f or the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction are unmarked. They look just like main clauses but are adverbial by virtue of the context in which they are used: for example,

nn twt n.f m.t(w).f h.f r-pdwt hm.f r-dw (Sin. B 52–53)

There is none equal to him when he is seen descending on archery and charging opposition¹⁵

sdm.n.j ḫrw.f jw.f mdw.f (Sin. R 25)

I heard his voice as he was speaking.¹⁶

The first example uses the sdm.f in three adverb clauses: m.t(w).f modifies the main clause nn twt n.f, describing when “there is none equal to him” (namely, “when he is seen”); h.f and hm.f modify the first adverb clause, describing how “he is seen” (namely, “charging” and “engaging”). In the second example, the adverb clause jw.f mdw.f, with the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction, tells when “I heard his voice.”

In each of these examples, the action of the adverb clause is concomitant with that of the governing clause. The unmarked adverb clauses in them could be main clauses in a different context: e.g., h.f r-pdwt “he descends on archery” and jw.f mdw.f “he was speaking.” Just as with the other unmarked adverb clauses we have examined in this lesson, they are subordinate only by virtue of their context, and not because of anything in the clause or the form of the verb or verbal construction itself.

Such adverb clauses of comcomitant action are among the most frequent uses of the sdm.f in Middle Egyptian. They are particularly appropriate after verbs such as m “see” and gmj “find,” where they describe the action going on when something is “seen” or “found.” An example with m has been cited above; the following is an example after gmj:

gm.n.j sn jr.sn ḥ()bw.sn zḫ.sn bdt.sn (CT V, 99b–d)

I found them celebrating (literally, “doing”) their festivals and reaping their wheat.

Note that the sdm.f always describes an action: as such, it contrasts in adverb clauses with the stative, which expresses a state (§ 20.8). Also, the sdm.f describes a concomitant action in adverb clauses and therefore contrasts with the sdm.n.f, which denotes a prior action in such clauses (§ 20.10).

20.12The sdm.f in captions

A special use of the sdm.f occurs in the captions to scenes such as those found on the walls of temples and tombs. Such scenes are usually labeled with an infinitive phrase explaining the action depicted (§ 13.9) and with captions identifying the action’s participants. Often, the latter include not just a name and epithets but also a clause that describes what the person named is doing. For example, a scene showing the goddess Amaunet embracing the pharaoh Hatshepsut has the following caption:

jmnt nbt pt ḥrt-jb jpt-jswt sḥtp.s jb dj.s nḫ ws nb (Lacau & Chevrier, Hatshepsout, 291)

Amaunet, mistress of the sky, resident in Karnak, contenting the heart and giving all life and authority.¹⁷

Such captions always consist of a name (with or without epithets) followed by the sdm.f—in this case, two of them: sḥtp.s “she contents” and dj.s “she gives.” They can be understood either as the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction or as adverbial uses of the sdm.f: i.e., in the example above, either “Amaunet … is contenting the heart and giving all life and dominion” or “(This is) Amaunet … contenting the heart and giving all life and dominion.” A third possible analysis is discussed in Lesson 22.

20.13Unmarked adverb clauses of posterior circumstance with the sdm.f

In unmarked adverb clauses of concomitant circumstance, the sdm.f is used as a kind of present tense—that is, present with respect to the action of the main clause. As we saw in Lesson 18, the sdm.f can also have future or subjunctive meaning (§§ 18.7–8). The same is true in subordinate clauses. In unmarked adverb clauses, the sdm.f can express posterior circumstance—that is, future with respect to the action of the main clause. This use has two main translations in English, as a clause of purpose or a clause of result.

By far the most frequent of these is the clause of purpose: it is at least as common as the use of the sdm.f to express concomitant circumstance. Clauses of purpose state the reason for the action of another clause. In English they are normally introduced by the phrases in order that, so that, or that. In Egyptian such clauses are usually expressed by the sdm.f alone, without an introductory word: for example,

jr.n.f tw n jb nḫ fndw.sn (Merikare 12, 1–2)

He has made air for the heart, so that their noses might live.

Here nḫ fndw.sn “so that their noses might live” describes the purpose of the action in the main clause. We have already met another way of expressing purpose, by means of the preposition r plus the infinitive (§ 13.11.3). Egyptian uses the sdm.f instead of the infinitive construction when it needs or wants to express the actor of the verb in the purpose clause, as in this example.

Clauses of result express the outcome of an action or situation. In English such clauses can be expressed by and plus a future, but Egyptian uses the sdm.f alone for this purpose: for example,

jr n ntr jr.f n.k mjtt (Merikare 11, 9)

Do for the god and he will do the same for you.

Note that this could also be translated with a clause of purpose: “Do for the god so that he may do the same for you”; Egyptian doesn’t bother to make a distinction between the two meanings. The sdm.f after an imperative can also express a second command. Egyptian prefers this to two imperatives: for instance,

m.k mdwt.sn mn.(w) m zhw

pg šd.k (Merikare 3, 11–4, 1)

Look, their words are set in writing:

open (the scrolls) and read.

Here again, however, translation with a clause of purpose is also possible: “Open, that you may read.” (This sentence is on the title page of this book.)

If you analyze the examples given above, you may notice that the clauses of purpose and result have one thing in common: they express an action that happens after that of the main clause. The translation as a subjunctive or future is normally required by English, but it does not reflect the meaning of the Egyptian form. In fact, the sdm.f in this use sometimes requires a translation in English with the present tense: for example,

jtrw šw.(w) nw kmt dy.tw mw ḥr rdwj (Neferti 26–27)

The river of Egypt has dried up, so that the water is crossed on foot. ¹⁸

Here dy.tw mw “the water is crossed” describes an action after that of the main clause: in this case, the result of the river drying up.

It may seem strange that Egyptian uses a single form, the sdm.f, with two seemingly contradictory meanings: action that takes place at the same time as that of the main clause (concomitant circumstance) and action that occurs after it (purpose or result). In fact, though, this is not much different from what English does with its own gerund: in a sentence such as She is spending the day reading, the gerund reading refers to a present event, while in She will spend the day reading it refers to a future one. Similarly, Egyptian is content to let the context and the form of the main clause determine whether the sdm.f in an unmarked adverb clause refers to concomitant circumstance or to the future. Like the English gerund, the sdm.f does not have a tense of its own, and can therefore take on the tense of its context.

20.14Unmarked adverb clauses with the passive sdm.f

In main clauses, the passive sdm.f is usually a counterpart of the sdm.n.f (§ 19.4), and the same thing is true in unmarked adverb clauses: it expresses prior action, just like the sdm.n.f (§ 20.10). An example is the following, where a birth is described:

j.jn.sn sw šd hp.f (Westc. 10, 11–12)

Then they washed him, after his umbilical cord had been cut.

20.15Unmarked adverb clauses with negations

Adverbial and pseudo-verbal predicates negated by nn can be used in unmarked adverb clauses as well as in main clauses. This use is simply the negative counterpart of that discussed in § 20.7, above: for example,

wḥ.j st m wš nn r(m)t jm (Helck, HBT, 93)

I will leave it as a ruin, with no people in it (§ 8.15).

As in affirmative clauses, a number of translations are possible, including “without people in it” and “no people being in it.”

The negation nj sdm.n.f (§ 17.11) is also found in unmarked adverb clauses, as well as its passive counterpart, nj sdm.f (§ 19.7):

jw.f ḥr ḥ dr rk ḥrw nj qn.n.f (Merikare 9, 1)

He has been fighting since Horus’s time, without being able to prevail

jry ḫyt jm.sn nj rḫ tnw (Urk. IV, 795, 9–10)

A pile of corpses was made of them, the number being unknown.

As you may recognize, the meaning of nj sdm.n.f in this use is similar to that of nn plus the infinitive (§ 13.15). Compare the following two examples:

ḥ.n.s gr.tj nn hnt (Westc. 5, 17)

Then she became still, without rowing

r gr.(w) nj mdw.n.f (Ptahhotep 13)

The mouth has grown quiet, without being able to speak.

Both adverb clauses describe how the action of the preceding clause happens or is true. Although both negative constructions negate action, however, nj sdm.n.f normally has the connotation of inability (“without being able to speak”), while nn plus the infinitive expresses the negation of action itself (“without rowing”). Thus, the adverb clause nj mdw.n.f in the last example in this section means “without being able to speak” rather than simply “without speaking,” since the latter could have been expressed by nn plus the infinitive (nn mdt).

In many cases, nj sdm.n.f and passive nj sdm.f in this use can be translated either as an adverb clause or as an independent statement: for example, “The mouth is silent, without being able to speak” or “The mouth is silent; it cannot speak”; similarly “He has been fighting since Horus’s time; he cannot prevail” and “A pile of corpses was made of them; the number was unknown.” This is because the negations themselves are simply statements. Their function as an independent statement or an adverb clause depends solely on the context in which they are used—and in how the translator understands that context.

20.16Unmarked adverb clauses with jm.f sdm and tm.f sdm

Besides its use to express a negative wish or command (§ 18.15), jm.f sdm can also express a negative clause of purpose or result: for example,

q ns.k jm.k tnmw (Peas. B1, 162)

Let your tongue be straight, so that you don’t get lost—or

Let your tongue be straight, and you won’t get lost.

This use is not very common in Middle Egyptian, however. More often, Middle Egyptian uses tm.f sdm (§ 18.15) for negative unmarked adverb clauses, expressing both concomitant circumstance and purpose or result. Normally, active nj sdm.f and nn sdm.f are not used in unmarked adverb clauses. Examples of tm.f sdm are:

kt sm mwyt tm.s m (Ebers 49, 8)

Another (method) of making urine regular when it is not regular

m khsw ḫft wsr.k tm spr bw dw r.k (Peas. B1, 245–46)

Don’t be harsh when you are powerful, so that evil does not reach you—or

Don’t be harsh when you are powerful, and evil will not reach you.¹⁹

Although these are translated as negatives, however, keep in mind that tm basically means “fail,” so that the clauses above actually mean something like “when it fails to be regular” and “so that evil fails to reach you” or “and evil will fail to reach you”—that is, affirmative unmarked adverb clauses rather than negated ones.

20.17Unmarked adverb clauses with wn and wnn

Like that of other verbs, the sdm.f of wnn can be used as the predicate in an unmarked adverb clause. Examples are attested with both stems:

wd.n.j wn hrw (Sin. R 34)

I set off when it was daytime—literally, “(when) daytime was”

nnk tm wnn.j w.k(w) (CT IV, 184b–186a M4C)

Everything belonged to me when I existed alone.

As these examples show, the two stems have the same connotations in unmarked adverb clauses as they do in main clauses (§ 18.9): the base stem is used with reference to a single event and the geminated stem for extended existence—in this case, both referring to the past.

The participle wn “existent” (§ 18.9) can also be used for existential statements in unmarked adverb clauses:

jw jn.tw qw wn q (Ptahhotep 349)

Intimates are fetched when there is ruin.²⁰

ESSAY 20. MIDDLE EGYPTIAN STORIES

Like all human cultures, the Egyptians told stories for entertainment and to convey a moral message—usually both. Storytelling in Egypt is undoubtedly as old as the civilization itself, but the earliest written stories we have date from the Middle Kingdom and were composed in Middle Egyptian, the classical language of Egyptian literature. Four works have been preserved more or less complete.

The oldest Egyptian story known is that of the Shipwrecked Sailor, examples from which have been quoted in this and previous lessons. It exists in a single copy, on a papyrus now in St. Petersburg, Russia, which was written in the late 11th or early 12th Dynasty. The story begins abruptly with an unnamed member of an expedition speaking to his leader, who is also unnamed. Their expedition has returned to Egypt safely, but apparently without achieving its mission, and the leader is despondent. To cheer him up, the narrator tells him how he himself once triumphed over adversity.

He had gone on another expedition by sea and the boat in which he was traveling was destroyed by a storm, leaving him the only survivor, washed up on a deserted island. After spending “three days alone, with my mind my (only) companion,” the sailor encounters a giant serpent. Although the sailor is at first terrified, the serpent reassures him by telling him his own story of how he had persevered when his entire family was destroyed by a meteor. The serpent then predicts the arrival of a ship that will bring the sailor back to Egypt. When this prophecy is fulfilled, the sailor returns to Egypt together with a cargo of marvelous goods from the island; he presents these to the king, and is rewarded with a promotion and servants.

The story ends with the narrator encouraging his leader to take heart from these examples of triumph over adversity. But the leader refuses to be consoled, saying “What’s the point of giving water to a bird at dawn when it’s going to be slaughtered that morning?” The tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor is unusual not only for this adverse ending, but also for the anonymity of its characters and for the literary device of a story within a story within a story.

By far the most famous ancient Egyptian tale—in the ancient Egyptians’ eyes as well as our own—is the story of Sinuhe (z-nht “the Sycamore’s Son”). It was composed in the early Middle Kingdom but survives in many copies, dating from the 12th Dynasty to the Ramesside Period. The story is set in the reign of Senwosret I and is presented in the form of a tomb biography of Sinuhe, who was a servant of the queen and her children.

At the beginning of the tale, Sinuhe is on a military campaign in the Libyan desert, led by Senwosret, who at this point is still the heir apparent. During the campaign, Senwosret’s father, Amenemhat I, dies, and Senwosret is informed of the fact secretly by messengers from the palace. Sinuhe overhears the message. Fearing that rival factions will kill Senwosret and his followers, he flees to the coast of Syria. There he is adopted by a local sheikh and eventually becomes a tribal ruler in his own right. After many years, he is challenged to battle by the head of a rival clan. The account of their fight—which Sinuhe wins by killing his challenger—foreshadows in some respects the Biblical tale of David’s victory over Goliath, just as the story of Sinuhe’s long exile abroad resembles that of Moses in the story of the Exodus.

After this success, Sinuhe begins to long for home. His situation is reported to Senwosret, and the king sends him a letter (which the story reproduces in full) urging him to come back. Sinuhe returns to Egypt, though he is still afraid of punishment for doubting Senwosret’s ability to gain control after his father’s death. In an audience before the king, Sinuhe is championed by the queen and the royal children. Senwosret pardons him, gives him the property and station of a high official, and orders a pyramid built for him in the royal cemetery. The story ends with the words “I have the blessing of the king’s presence until the day of mooring (i.e., dying) has come.”

Although it is couched in the form of a tomb biography, the story of Sinuhe is clearly a careful literary composition. It is primarily written in the form of “thought couplets” (see Essay 18), and can be considered as much a poem as a prose tale. The elegance of its language was probably one of the reasons for its popularity: a number of the copies we possess were written by schoolboys as scribal exercises.

The other two great works of Middle Kingdom fiction are written in the third person. The tale of the Eloquent Peasant is preserved on four papyri dating from the end of the Middle Kingdom, although it is set in the time of the pharaoh Nebkaure Khety (Dynasty 10). It tells the story of a farmer from the oasis of Wadi Natrun (northwest of modern Cairo), who loads his donkeys with produce and sets out for Herakleopolis, the capital of Dynasty 10 in Middle Egypt. On the way he passes the land of a minor official, who covets the farmer’s goods. The official has some linen spread out on the road at a point where it passes between his grainfield and the bank of a canal. To avoid the linen, the farmer leads his donkeys through the field, and one of them eats a wisp of the grain. The official uses this as an excuse to seize the farmer’s donkey as “payment” for its transgression.

The farmer then goes to petition to the official’s landlord, who is the chief steward in charge of the king’s state property. The steward is so impressed with the farmer’s eloquence that he reports it to the pharaoh. The king then orders the steward not to reply to the farmer’s complaint, so that he will be forced to continue his eloquent petitions. The bulk of the story is taken up by eight more lengthy petitions, each of which is a literary discourse on the nature of Maat. After the ninth petition, the steward finally grants the farmer’s request. His petitions are recorded on papyrus and given to the king, “and it was better in his mind than anything that is in this entire land.” The story ends with the steward ordering the property of the covetous official to be given to the eloquent farmer.

The last great work of fiction written in Middle Egyptian, like the first, exists only in a single copy, on a papyrus dating from the Hyksos Period (Dyn. 15), now in the Egyptian Museum in Berlin. It is commonly known as Papyrus Westcar, after the name of its first modern owner. The beginning and end of the papyrus are lost. The surviving portion contains five related stories set in the Old Kingdom, during the reign of Khufu (Dyn. 4), builder of the Great Pyramid. Three of these are tales of magicians, told to Khufu by his sons, and the fourth relates wonders performed for Khufu himself. At the end of the fourth tale, the magician predicts to Khufu the birth of three kings of the next dynasty, to nonroyal parents. The fifth tale is about the miraculous birth of these kings and subsequent events in the life of their mother.

Middle Egyptian literature possessed many more stories than just these. Some have survived merely in fragments, including part of a story about a herdsman who meets a strange goddess in the marshes, and pieces of a tale about a pharaoh’s adventures in the Fayum oasis. The tradition of stories also continued well after the Middle Kingdom, and we possess a number of other tales written in Late Egyptian and Demotic.

There are significant similarities and differences among the four great works of Middle Egyptian storytelling. Each of them was written not merely for entertainment but also, if not primarily, to convey a “moral.” The story of the Shipwrecked Sailor is about perseverance in the face of adversity; the tale of Sinuhe reflects a genre of early Middle Kingdom texts extolling the virtue of loyalty to the king; the travails of the Eloquent Peasant are a vehicle for sermons on the nature of Maat, particularly in relations between officials and their dependants; and the stories of Papyrus Westcar contrast the power of kingship with the greater powers that mere commoners can possess through learning, magic, or the intervention of the gods.

All of the stories are written in Middle Egyptian, but they differ in the kind of language used and its literary refinement. Sinuhe and the Eloquent Peasant are careful compositions, each crafted by an author in full command of the highest form of classical Middle Egyptian and the literary arts. The Shipwrecked Sailor and the stories of Papyrus Westcar, on the other hand, are closer to the spoken language of their time, and read more like oral narratives committed to writing than deliberate literary compositions. Among them, the four works span the full range of classical Middle Egyptian. The tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor shows us literary Middle Egyptian in its earliest form, those of Sinuhe and the Eloquent Peasant reflect the language at its literary apex, and the stories of Papyrus Westcar give us a look at the speech of the Middle Kingdom on its way to becoming Late Egyptian.

EXERCISE 20

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (CG 20543, 17) — jmj-jb “confidant” (literally, “one who is in the mind”)

2. (CT I, 106b–c, emended)

3. (Dunham, Naga-ed-Dêr Stelae, pl. 7 no. 2) — 1s unwritten

4. (Urk. IV, 219, 3–4) — past tense; the last sign is a spelling of jnp “baby” (taken from jnpw “Anubis”)

5. (ShS. 15–16)

6. (ShS. 67–68)

7. (Peas. B1, 190)

8.
— (Hatnub 25, 19–20) — from a graffito in an alabaster quarry: jn “it is,” jrr “who makes,” (j)m(j)-r š(j) “quarry-overseer”; z-nḫt ḥ-nḫt and sbkw-m-ḥt are the names of two men

9.
(Sin. B 32–34) — ntjw “who were”

10. (Westc. 6, 9–10)

11. (Sin. R 70–71)

12.
(Sethe, Lesestücke, 70, 22–23)

13. (Sin. B 58–59) — description of the king

14. (Sin. B 233–34)

15. (Neferti 51) — a prophecy about the sun

16. (Herdsman 4–5)

17. (Herdsman 24–25)

18. (Peas. Bt 25–27)

19. (Merikare 4, 7–8)

20. (Helck, HBT, 22)

21. (Ptahhotep 374)

22. (Khakh. vo. 1)

1 From the title of a scene of men dragging a colossal statue (13 cubits = 22.4 feet high). The initial verb form is the infinitive (§ 13.9); Hatnub was an alabaster quarry in Middle Egypt; jt.n.f is a relative sdm.n.f, which will be discussed in Lesson 22.

2 From a description of a river-procession of the image of Osiris. The sentence indicates that the king sailed in the boat with the god’s image, accompanied by a flotilla of troop-ships. For wd pw jr.n ḥm.f, see § 13.14.3.

3 Older translations often use the archaic word Lo to translate jst in such cases, but this does not reflect the real meaning of jst and it is not very satisfactory in modern English.

4 Literally, “one at his feet”: jr(j) is a nisbe from the preposition r: see §§ 8.6.4 and 8.7.

5 From a passage about the accession of Thutmose I. The main clause describes how Egypt was united under his rule.

6 This sentence, spoken by the pharaoh, means that the enemy to whom he is speaking will be defeated by the pursuing Egyptian army; m s.k is literally, “in your back.”

7“At sea” is literally “in the Great Blue-Green”: wd-wr “Great Blue-Green” is the Egyptian name for both the Mediterranean Sea and the Red Sea.

8 Literally, “his mind lengthened”: wj jb “lengthening the mind” is an Egyptian idiom for “happiness.” For the main clause, see § 13.4.1.

9 From a passage describing how the author saved the king from a rampaging elephant. The word “hand” refers to the elephant’s trunk. The word šd “the one who cut off” is a participle, a verb form we will meet in Lesson 23.

10 For the spelling of the stative (3fs), see § 16.2).

11 From the older translation “may he live, be prosperous, and be healthy.”

12 mdwt m ḥr.k “your responsibilities” means literally “the matters in your face”: rdj mdt m ḥr “put a matter in the face” of someone is an idiom for making someone responsible for something.

13 The noun phrase jst , literally “place of the arm,” is an idiom for “action.”

14 This sentence describes the grief of the speaker at finding his family destroyed in a conflagration. “Then I died” is meant metaphorically: “then I died of grief.” The word hyt is a collective noun from ht “corpse.” The pronoun st is used for “them” because the writer was thinking of the collective.

15 r-pdwt and r-dw are abstracts made from the nouns pdwt “archers” (a collective) and dw “crossing.”

16 This is a variant of the example cited in § 20.7, from a second copy of the story. In this case, the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction has the older imperfect meaning (§ 18.6).

17 The nisbe ḥrj jb “who is on the heart” followed by a temple name is regularly used for gods and goddesses who are honored in a temple but whose primary shrine or temple is elsewhere. The name of the temple of Karnak, jpt-jswt, means “the (most) select of places.”

18 For the first clause, see § 16.7; rdwj is literally “two feet” (dual): the plural strokes are superfluous.

19 ḫft wsr.k is literally “in accordance with your being strong” (wsr is the infinitive). The second clause means literally “so that evil doesn’t arrive at you” or “and evil won’t arrive at you”; bw dw is an abstract formed from the adjective dw “bad,” literally, “a bad thing.”

20 I.e., one turns to friends in times of trouble. qw “close friends” means literally “those who enter”: i.e., those who have access to a person.

21.NOUN CLAUSES

21.1Definitions

A noun clause acts like a noun: for example, in the English sentence Jack knows that Jill won, the noun clause that Jill won functions as the object of the verb knows, just as the noun Jack does in the sentence Jack knows Jill. Like adverb clauses, noun clauses can be marked or unmarked. In the sentence Jack knows that Jill won, the noun clause is marked by the word that. If we say Jack knows Jill won, the noun clause is unmarked. The clause Jill won is just the same as an independent statement, but it is functioning here as a noun clause (object of the verb knows). There is nothing in the clause itself to indicate this function: only the context in which it is used shows that it is a noun clause and not a separate sentence.

Middle Egyptian also has marked and unmarked noun clauses. Many of these are very similar to their English counterparts, but others are quite different.

MARKED NOUN CLAUSES

21.2Functions

Nouns can have many different functions in an Egyptian sentence: most often they serve as the subject, as a nominal predicate, or as the object of a verb or preposition. Although noun clauses can do the same things, most often they appear as the object of either a verb or a preposition.

English uses the word that to mark noun clauses. Here are some examples of such clauses (in boldface) in various functions in a sentence:

AS SUBJECT: That Jill has talent is obvious (compare the subject noun phrase in the similar sentence Jill’s talent is obvious).¹

AS PREDICATE: The important thing is that Jill has talent (compare the predicate noun phrase in the similar sentence The important thing is Jill’s talent).

AS OBJECT OF A VERB: You can see that Jill has talent (compare the object noun phrase in the similar sentence You can see Jill’s talent).

Egyptian also uses its noun clauses in these ways, as well as some others that are not possible in English. It also has more than one way to mark a noun clause.

21.3Noun clauses with js

The enclitic particle js can be used to subordinate nominal or adjectival sentences as noun clauses: for example,

dd.f z.f js pw (CT III, 181b–c)

He says that he is his son

rḫ.sn wr js nrw.f (Louvre C15, 7)

They will learn that his terror is great.

In the first example, the noun clause contains the A pw B nominal sentence z.f pw “he is his son”; it serves as object of the verb dd.f, explaining what “he says.” In the second, the noun clause contains the adjectival sentence wr nrw.f “the terror of him is great”; it serves as object of the verb rḫ.sn, and tells what “they will learn.” In both cases, the particle js allows the nonverbal sentence to function as a noun clause, just as the word that does in the English translations. Clauses marked by js generally serve as the object of a verb, as in these examples, or as the object of a preposition.

21.4Noun clauses with ntt or wnt

Much more common as the mark of a noun clause is the word ntt. This is equivalent to the English word that. Older texts sometimes use the word wnt (also ), which has the same meaning. These can be used with most of the predicates and constructions we have met in Lessons 14–18.

Both ntt and wnt can introduce a noun clause as the object of a verb, with various kind of predicates: for example,

m.f ntt štw pw (BD 148)

He saw that it was a great secret (A pw nominal predicate)

jw dd.n.sn wnt.sn r ḥdt dpw (CT VI, 278b)

They have said that they are to smash heads (pseudo-verbal predicate)

j(w).k rḫ.t(j) ntt dd.n jdw … (JEA 16, 19, 1)

You know that Idu has said … (sdm.n.f).

As the second example shows, ntt and wnt take a suffix pronoun, like jw. With the 1s pronoun, however, they are followed by the dependent form:

ḥw dd n mjwt.j tw ntt wj snd.k(w) wrt (CT VI, 408o)

If only it had been said to that mother of mine that I am very afraid

j.dd.k n ḥrw wnt wj ḥ.kw m m-ḫrw.f (Helck, HBT, 5)

You should say to Horus that I am excited about his justification.

The particle ntt (but not usually wnt) is also a very common way of allowing a clause to serve as the object of a preposition. The combination of a preposition plus ntt is the counterpart of several English conjunctions:

m ntt | “seeing that”—literally, “from (the fact) that”
n ntt | “for, because”—literally, “for (the fact) that”
r ntt | “inasmuch as, that”—literally, “with respect to (the fact) that”
ḥr ntt | “because”—literally, “upon (the fact) that”
dr ntt | “since”—literally, “since that.”

Of these, n ntt, ḥr ntt, and dr ntt are found most often in Middle Egyptian texts. Here are several examples, with various kinds of predicates:

ḥr ntt mdw pw m .j (CT III, 49e)

because this (§ 5.8) staff is in my hand (adverbial predicate)

sspd ḫw.tn r ntt jw.tw r tḥn r ḥ ḥn ḫr pf hzj dw (Urk. IV, 656, 2–3)

Sharpen your weapons, inasmuch as one is to meet in order to fight with that wretched enemy in the morning (pseudo-verbal predicate)

n ntt sdm.n.f jhm (CT VI, 283k)

because he heard mourning (sdm.n.f as predicate).

Nominal-predicate clauses subordinated by ntt can sometimes have the subordinating marker js as well. The presence or absence of js in this case seems to make no difference to the meaning: for example,

n ntt jnk js b pw n jsjr (CT II, 70c B3L)

n ntt jnkb pw n jsjr (CT II, 77a B3L)

because I am that great ba of Osiris.

These examples come from two different religious texts written close together on the same Middle Kingdom coffin. In both of them, the noun clause consists of an A B nominal sentence jnk b pw n jsjr “I am that great ba of Osiris.” They are virtually identical except for the presence of js in the first example but not in the second (the gap in the second is inserted here to show the difference).

21.5Negative marked noun clauses

Since ntt can make any kind of sentence into a noun clause, it can do so for one with a negated predicate: for example,

ḥr ntt nj ḥr.j st nj ḫmt.j st (Amenemhat 2, 6)

because I didn’t anticipate it and I didn’t consider it.

This is a relatively new construction in Middle Egyptian. In Old Egyptian, and in older Middle Egyptian texts, sentences with a negated predicate were converted into noun clauses by changing the negative nj into jwt:² for example,

dd m(j) n hb tw jwt gm.k N pn (CT VI, 318j–k)

Please say to him who sent you that you did not find this N.³

Here the past-tense negation nj gm.k “you did not find” (§ 18.13) has been converted to the noun-clause form jwt gm.k to serve as object of the imperative dd “say.” Such examples are primarily limited to religious texts.

UNMARKED NOUN CLAUSES

21.6Features of unmarked noun clauses

Theoretically, most of the constructions and verb forms of Middle Egyptian could be used in unmarked noun clauses, but in fact only a few are attested in this use: these include nominal sentences, the SUBJECT–stative construction (but not the stative by itself), the sdm.n.f, and the active and passive sdm.f; the use of the sdmt.f after the prepositions r and dr (§ 19.4) is also an unmarked noun clause.

With one exception, there is no difference between the constructions and forms that are found in unmarked noun clauses and the same constructions and forms in the uses we have already learned about. The exception has to do with the sdm.f of four root classes, which can have a geminated form not found in most other uses:

3ae-inf.
e.g., mr and mrr, from the verb mrj “want, love.” This class has the most examples of the geminated stem. Most verbs of the class can use this stem, although some use only the ungeminated stem: for example, šmj “go” (always šm, never *šmm). The verb jnj “get” appears in the forms jn and jnn, as well as in the jnt form of the sdm.f (or sdmt.f) used elsewhere (§ 18.10).

4ae-inf. | e.g., msd and msdd, from msdj “hate.” Only some verbs of this class use the geminated stem; others, such as ḥmsj “sit down,” use only the ungeminated stem (ḥms, never *ḥmss).
caus. 3ae-inf. | e.g., shr and shrr, from shrj “pacify.” Examples of the geminated form are not common.
anom. | In addition to the ungeminated form shown in § 18.2, rdj has the geminated form dd, written always without r. For the verb jjj/jwj “come,” the forms of the sdm.f are those found elsewhere (§§ 18.2, 18.10).

Regardless of its form, the meaning of the sdm.f in noun clauses is exactly the same as elsewhere: it denotes action and can be past, present, future, or subjunctive, and the geminated stem indicates repeated or multiple action. It can be made passive by means of the suffix tw; that form is more common in noun clauses than the passive sdm.f.

We don’t know why the geminated forms cited in this section appear mostly in noun clauses but not, for example, in adverb clauses. Since there is (probably) only one active sdm.f, the difference between as writings of the geminated form mrr.f most likely has to do with the way the words were pronounced: for example, *mirriáf in the first case and *miríriaf in the second. Why the pronunciation sometimes shifted in noun clauses, we don’t know, but it may have been no more significant than the difference between can-NOT and CAN-not as pronunciations of the English word cannot. More discussion about this phenomenon will be presented in the last lesson.

21.7Unmarked noun clauses as the object of a verb

In Egyptian, as in English, the most common use of an unmarked noun clause is as the object of a verb. Examples occur with both non-verbal and verbal predicates:

gm.n.j ḥfw pw (ShS. 61–62)

I found it was a snake (A pw nominal sentence)

jn jw mt pw p dd jw.k rḫ.tj tz dp ḥsq (Westc. 8, 12–13)

Is it the truth, the saying you know how to reattach a severed head?⁴ (SUBJECT– stative)

gm.n.f smn n.f stw 4 m ḥmt st(j)t (Urk. IV, 1280, 13)

He found four targets of Asiatic copper had been set up for him (passive sdm.f)

jn (j)t.j wd jr.j st (Urk. IV, 1326, 13)

It is my father who commanded I do it (ungeminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f)

wd.n r jrr.f sw (CT VI, 210i)

The Sun has commanded he do it (geminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f)

j.k rḫ.t(j) dd.n.f n.(j) jnk smy.j jm.t (JEA 20, 158)

You know he said to me, “I am the one who will report you”⁵ (sdm.n.f).

As the translations of these examples indicate, English and Egyptian are similar in the way they use a sentence as a noun clause without any special marking. The clauses ḥfw pw “it was a snake,” jw.k rḫ.tj tz dp ḥsq “you know how to reattach a severed head,” smn n.f stw 4 “four targets had been set up for him,” jr.j st “I do it,” and dd.n.f n.(j) “he said to me” are all independent statements, both in Egyptian and in English, and only the fact that they follow verbs shows that they are noun clauses.

Only the clause jrr.f sw “he does it” is not found as an independent statement. Since the preceding example shows that the ungeminated sdm.f of the same class could also be used as object of the same verb, the difference is undoubtedly aspectual, jr.j st referring to a single act of “doing” and jrr.f sw referring to multiple instances of “doing.” Most likely, a clause such as in an independent statement could represent both ungeminated jr.f sw (*iriáfsu) and geminated jrr.f sw (*irriáfsu), so the only thing that has yet to be explained satisfactorily is why there was (apparently) a shift in stress for the latter in noun clauses *iríriafsu).

21.8The rdj sdm.f construction

The most frequent example of an unmarked noun clause with a verbal predicate is after the verb rdj “give, put.” The combination of rdj plus the sdm.f has causative meaning: for example, rdj sdm.f “cause that he hear,” “have him hear,” “make him hear,” “allow him to hear”—literally, “give (that) he hear.” In this extremely common construction, the verb rdj itself can appear in any verb form; the sdm.f that it governs is always ungeminated: for example,

m.tn rdj.n.j jš.tw n.tn r rdjt dr.tn n.j z.tn (Neferti 6)

Look, I have had you called in order to have you seek out for me a son of yours.

This sentence contains two forms of the rdj sdm.f construction: rdj.n.j jš.tw n.tn “I have had you called” (literally, “I have given that one call to you”), with the sdm.n.f, and r rdjt dr.tn “in order to have you seek out” (literally, “to give that you seek out”), with the infinitive. The sdm.f of rdj is used in a main clause in the following example:

dj.j sdm.tn st (Helck, HBT, 23)

I will have you hear it,

literally, “I will give that you hear it.” The imperative of rdj (§ 15.2.3) is frequently used in this construction as well: for example,

jmj rḫ.f rn.k (Sin. B 73–74)

Let him know your identity,

literally, “give that he learn your identity.” So also with rdj itself after the imperative jmj: for instance,

jmj dj.tw m t 1000 (Westc. 4, 13)

Have a thousand loaves of bread presented,

literally, “give that one give that a thousand loaves of bread be presented,” where dj.tw is the object of jmj and m is the object of dj.tw.

The sdm.f of the verb wnn can be used to allow a non-verbal sentence to function as the object of rdj in its causative sense: for example,

dj.k wn.j m šmswt ḥm.k (Helck, HBT, 27)

May you allow that I be in Your Incarnation’s following.

This is actually a case in which the sdm.f of wnn has been added in order to make a more precise statement than is possible for the independent statement jw.j m šmswt ḥm.k “I (am) in Your Incarnation’s following” (see § 18.9).

In our initial discussion of the verb we saw that many Egyptian verb roots have a causative counterpart (§§ 12.4.3, 12.5.9–15): for example, hj “descend” and shj “cause to descend.” The construction rdj sdm.f has the same basic meaning as the causative: e.g., rdj hj “make descend.” All Egyptian verbs can be used in the sdm.f as the complement of rdj, but not all of them have a causative root. This is true for some of the most common Egyptian verbs, including rdj itself. For such verbs the causative has to be expressed with the rdj sdm.f construction: rdj dj “make give” (not *srdj). Because rdj plus the sdm.f was such a common construction, it eventually became the normal means of expressing the causative. In Coptic many of the older causative roots have disappeared, and the language has developed a new causative root formed with t (descendant of rdj) and the descendant of the sdm.f: for example, txio “make fall,” from rdj hj “make descend.”

21.9Unmarked noun clauses as the object of a preposition

Unmarked noun clauses also occur as the object of both simple and compound prepositions: for example,

jr.sn n.k ḫt nbt nfrt r nb mj mrr bk jm (Kemit, pl. 2)

May they do for you everything good every day, as yours truly likes (geminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f)⁶

wd n jrryw r jrt ḫft š.n.k (pBerlin 3029 2, 13)

Command to the doers to do according as you have decided (sdm.n.f)

m ḫt rdj n.j wnwt-ḥwt-ntr p t-ḥd (Siut I, 298)

after the hourly temple-staff give me that white-bread (ungeminated anom. sdm.f)

m ḫt jw-mj-jtrw snḫ.t(j) (CG 20001 b 6)

after Iuemitru was fed (SUBJECT–stative).⁷

Here again, most of the noun clauses could stand as independent statements (with the exception of mrr bk jm), and only the fact that they appear after prepositions (mj “like,” ḫft “according as,” m ḫt “after”) shows that they are noun clauses.

Like other prepositional phrases, those with unmarked noun clauses normally stand within or at the end of sentences, as illustrated by the first two examples. The sdm.f of mrj “want,” however, can be used after the preposition m as the first clause of a sentence, with the sense of a conditional (“if ”) or comparative (“as”) clause: for example,

j nḫw dp t m mr.tn nswt.tn

dd t 1000 ḥnqt 1000 k 1000 pd 1000 n jmḫ ḥrw-m-ḥt nb jmḫ (CG 20606 b 3)

Oh, (you) who live on earth,⁸ as you want your king,

say, “a thousand bread, a thousand beer, a thousand cattle, a thousand fowl for the worthy Horemhat, possessor of worth”

j nḫw dp t mrrw nḫ msdd(w) ḫpt

m mrr.tn wḥ dp t dd.tn 1000 t ḥnqt n jmḫ b-kw (Turin 1345, 10)

Oh, (you) who live on earth, who love to live and hate to pass on,⁹

as you love to stay on earth, you should say, “a thousand bread and beer for the worthy Abkau.”

The literal meaning of this construction is similar to that of English noun clauses with in that: i.e., “in (that) you want your king” and “in (that) you love to stay on earth.”

21.10Unmarked noun clauses as the second part of a genitival phrase

Noun clauses can also be used without any special marking as the second part of a direct or indirect genitive. Examples with the direct genitive mostly involve compound prepositional phrases, such as those cited in § 21.9, above—e.g., “in the wake of the hourly temple-staff give me that white-bread.” The following are examples with the indirect genitive:

jw.f mj r hr(w) n ms.tw.f (Himmelskuh, 25)

He is like the Sun on the day he was born (ungeminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f)

wḥ.k špssw n dd.sn n.k (Sin. B 187)

You shall keep the finery they give you (geminated anom. sdm.f).

These mean literally, “on the day of he was born” and “the finery of they give to you.” As these examples show, the genitival constructions are not directly translatable as such into English.

21.11Unmarked noun clauses as subject of another predicate

Unmarked noun clauses can serve as the subject of another predicate: for example,

qsn ms.s (Westc. 10, 4)

It was hard for her to give birth (ungeminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f).

In this case, ms.s is the subject of the adjectival predicate qsn: literally, “(that) she give birth (is) hard.”

21.12Unmarked noun clauses as predicate of a nominal sentence

Unmarked noun clauses also occur as a nominal predicate in the A pw sentence:

nḫw pw n mjfkt mt ḫr.(w) ḥr mw (Westc. 6, 5–6)

It is that a fish-pendant of new turquoise fell into the water (SUBJECT–stative)¹⁰

jr jb.f mḥ.(w) mhh jb.f pw mj ntj ḥr sḫt kt mdt (Ebers 102, 15–16)¹¹

As for “his mind is flooded,” it means that his mind forgets, like one who is thinking of another matter (geminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f).

The sentence in the first example is the answer to a question addressed by the king to a girl rowing his boat, “Why don’t you row?” The SUBJECT–stative statement nḫw n mfkt mt ḫr.(w) ḥr mw “A fish-pendant of new turquoise fell into the water” is the predicate of the A pw sentence. We can paraphrase the sentence as “The reason is (that) a fish-pendant of new turquoise fell into the water.” The second example comes from a medical text, explaining what the symptom jb.f mḥ.w “his mind is flooded” means: namely, that the patient is preoccupied; mhh jb.f “his mind forgets” is the predicate of pw.

21.13Unmarked noun clauses as headings

In Lesson 13 we saw how the infinitive is used in headings, such as the captions of scenes and the titles of texts (§ 13.9). The sdm.f can also be used instead of the infinitive in this function: for instance,

jrr zj mrrt.f m hrj-ntr (CT III, 204a)

How a man does what he likes in the necropolis (geminated 3ae-inf. sdm.f).¹²

This title of a funerary spell is a noun clause, literally “(that) a man does what he likes in the necropolis.” The translation with “how” is a paraphrase, necessary because English does not use noun clauses clauses in this way.

21.14Negative unmarked noun clauses

Unmarked noun clauses are negated by means of the sdm.f of the verb tm plus the negatival complement: for example,

rḫ.n.k tm.sn sfn hrw pf n wd m(r)w (Merikare E 53–54)

You know they will not be merciful on that day of judging the needy

jr nj šzp.n jwf.f wt

tm šzp jwf.f phrt pw (Smith 14, 13–14)

As for “his flesh does not accept a bandage,”

it means his flesh does not accept the prescription.

In the first of these examples tm.sn sfn is used as object of the verb rḫ; in the second, tm šzp jwf.f phrt is used as predicate in an A pw sentence (literally, “it is (that) his flesh does not accept the prescription”).

ESSAY 21. HISTORICAL TEXTS

The ancient Egyptians did not write history in the modern sense of the word: that is, as an objective recounting of past events. Many Egyptian texts do in fact record historical events, from those of national importance, such as military campaigns of the pharaohs, to the more personal texts in tombs and on stelae that tell of significant events in the lives of their authors. But such texts normally were not written as an attempt to record or understand what happened in the past. When historical events are mentioned in texts, from the deeds of the pharaohs to official autobiographies, they are intended to demonstrate the exemplary behavior of their subjects.

In their biographical inscriptions, officials usually record their material achievements, the successful completion of assignments, and their recognition by superiors or the king himself. These often sound vain or exaggerated to modern ears: for example,

I am wealthy and well supplied with fine things: there is nothing I am missing in all my things. I am an owner of cattle, with many goats, an owner of donkeys, with many sheep. I am rich in barley and emmer, fine in clothing. There is nothing missing from all my wealth (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 19–23).

I returned from the sea having done what His Incarnation had commanded, getting for him every product I found on the shores of the god’s land. … Never was the like of this done by any king’s acquaintance sent on a mission since the time of the god (Hamm. 114, 15–16).

The Egyptians themselves were somewhat aware of this: occasionally biographies include statements such as “This is what I really did: there is no boasting and no lie in it” (Sethe, Lesestücke, 82, 12).

Such autobiographies were not written as egotistical memoirs, however. Their purpose is associated with a concept expressed by the Egyptian word jmḫ: they were meant to demonstrate that their author was jmḫy, an adjective meaning the same thing as the noun phrase nb jmḫ “possessor of jmḫ” (as in the second-last example in § 21.9). The concept of jmḫ cannot be rendered easily by a single English word. It denotes a dependency relationship between two individuals in which the one who is jmḫy or nb jmḫ is worthy of the attention and care of the other. The relationship itself is expressed by means of the preposition ḫr “with, by, near.” An official can be jmḫy ḫr “worthy with, honored with” the king or a god; a wife can be jmḫyt ḫr “worthy with” her husband. The possession of this quality entitled a person to be remembered by future generations and to receive the concrete expression of that remembrance in the form of funerary offerings at the tomb. Its acquisition was based on a person’s behavior and accomplishments during life. This is what the autobiographies are meant to establish.

During the Old Kingdom, most such autobiographies were inscribed on the walls of the tomb chapel, where they could be read by visitors; for this reason they are often called “tomb biographies.” This practice continued after the Old Kingdom, but during the First Intermediate Period biographies were often inscribed on stelae instead, and most Middle Kingdom biographical texts are preserved on such monuments. These were erected not just at the tomb itself but in many cases at a private memorial chapel (called a “cenotaph”) near the temple of Osiris in Abydos. Most of the non-royal stelae of the Middle Kingdom now in museums around the world come from these Abydos cenotaphs.

Closely related to the biographies in form and content, though not in intent, is the genre of graffiti. These were inscribed on cliff walls and rocks at various significant locations throughout Egypt. The most important groups of such graffiti are to be found in the ancient alabaster quarries at Hatnub, in Middle Egypt; in the Wadi Hammamat, a valley route through the desert from the Nile to the Red Sea, just north of Thebes; on granite boulders at Aswan, the southern border of ancient Egypt; in several ancient mines and quarries in Nubia, south of Aswan; and in Egypt’s western desert. They record the visits of expeditions to and through these sites, and range from the simple names and titles of expedition members to longer texts describing the purpose of the expedition and extolling the accomplishments of its leaders.

Because they describe notable events in the lives of their authors, biographical texts and graffiti are a primary source for our knowledge of Egyptian history. Often they provide the only record of historical events that are not mentioned in official accounts or recorded elsewhere. Even when they do reflect events known from other sources, they offer a valuable perspective on such events from the viewpoint of people who lived through or participated in them. The graffiti are particularly important in this respect. Those dating to the beginning of the Middle Kingdom tell us about the political and economic situation in Egypt during the period when the Theban Dynasties 11 and 12 were trying to gain control of the entire country after the divisions of the First Intermediate Period—struggles that are barely reflected in the official records of the kings themselves.

The royal inscriptions that mention historical events were written not to record those events but to demonstrate the pharaoh’s role in creating and preserving Maat (see Essay 10). One example of this purpose is the genre of texts describing the restoration of order. Composed during a king’s few months on the throne, these inscriptions contrast the chaotic situation that supposedly existed in the country before the king’s accession with the order established by the new regime. They reflect the Egyptian view of the accession as the equivalent of the creation, when the order of the world was first established after the chaos of the pre-creation universe (see Essays 9 and 11). The most famous example of this genre is the Restoration Stela of Tutankhamun, which describes that king’s efforts to restore the traditional religious institutions of Egypt after the disruption of Akhenaten’s reforms (see Essay 16).

Many royal historical texts deal with the king’s military campaigns. These usually describe wars and battles in the countries surrounding Egypt—Asia Minor to the east, Libya to the west, and Nubia in the south—but in some cases they record struggles within Egypt itself, such as those of the Theban 17th and early 18th dynasties against the Hyksos domination of the north (see Essay 1). Such campaigns often occupied the king’s first few years on the throne, when foreign powers were tempted to test the ability and resolve of the new pharaoh. Although they are often described as the king’s efforts to swsḫ tšw “broaden the borders” of Egypt, these campaigns seem usually to have been motivated not by the desire for conquest but by the need to establish and maintain control over access to Egypt by foreign peoples. Many texts of this type come from the 18th Dynasty, when pharaohs attempted to create a “buffer zone” of control in Asia Minor as a hedge against the kind of uncontrolled immigration that led to the Hyksos rule of northern Egypt during the Second Intermediate Period. For similar reasons, the pharaohs of Dynasty 12 established a series of frontier forts along the river in northern Nubia, an accomplishment that is recorded in several royal stelae from Nubia.

By far the most extensive military records come from the reign of the pharaoh Thutmose III of Dynasty 18. During the course of his 54-year rule (ca. 1479–1425 BC), he conducted sixteen separate military campaigns, mostly in Asia Minor, at one point reaching the banks of the Euphrates River in Mesopotamia, where he set up a stela commemorating the achievement. Officials accompanying the pharaoh on these campaigns kept a kind of daily diary of events. Such records were probably made in one form or another by all pharaohs, but almost none have survived. We know of Thutmose III’s day-book only because he eventually had it transcribed on the walls of the temple of Amun at Karnak (Fig. 15). The text records each campaign in order, describing the pharaoh’s intinerary and battles at various sites and ending with a list of tribute received as a result of each victory. One of its more abbreviated entries reads as follows:

Regnal Year 30, when His Incarnation was in the hill country of Retjenu on the sixth campaign of force of His Incarnation. Arrival at the town of Qadesh, destroying it, cutting down its trees, plundering its grain. Proceeding past Rayatu, arrival at the town of Djamara, arrival at the town of Aratjtu, doing the same to it. List of tribute brought to His Incarnation’s impressiveness by the chiefs of Retjenu … children of the chiefs brought in this year: men, 36; male and female servants, 181; horses, 188; chariots wrought with gold and silver and painted, 40 (Urk. IV, 689–90).

Fig. 15. The Annals of Thutmose III in Karnak (author’s photo)
The scene shows Thutmose III dedicating two flagpoles, two obelisks, and tribute to Amun. The annals are inscribed in columns below the scene.

More often, the battle at each site is described in detail. Here again, however, the purpose of the inscription is not to record history but to demonstrate the pharaoh’s fulfillment of his duty to defend Egypt. In fact, for the Egyptians the important part of the text is not what we would regard as its historical accounts but the list of tribute, which was given to the temple of Amun.

Because such texts were not written as purely historical accounts, scholars need to be careful in using them to reconstruct ancient history. They give us only one side of the story, and even that in a way we would not always regard as accurate. The best example is Ramesses II’s account of the battle at the Syrian town of Qadesh, which took place in his Year 5 (ca. 1285 BC). Camped outside the city in preparation for a siege, the king and his army were surprised and nearly annihilated by an attack of Hittite chariotry. Ramesses managed to survive and eventually fight the Hittites to a stalemate, but the battle is presented in Egyptian records as a great victory. In a sense it was, since it eventually led to a peace treaty between Egypt and the Hittites—one of the first such treaties in recorded history. What was important to the Egyptians was not the historical reality of the battle itself, but the fact that it demonstrated once again the pharaoh’s success in maintaining the order and harmony of Maat.

EXERCISE 21

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (CT V, 49b–c) — hb tw “the one who sent you”

2. (CT II, 214a-b)

3. (Urk. IV, 364, 1–2)

4. (Siut I, 288) — wb: see Essay 5

5. (ShS. 139–40)

6. (Ptahhotep 28–29 L2)

7. (ShS. 146–47)

8. (Westc. 7, 4–5)

9.
(Khety I, 28–29)

10. (Heqanakht I, vo. 9)

11. (Khakh. 6)

12. (Sin. B 70)

13. (Smith 8, 16–17) — jr “as for”: the sentence explains what is meant by jw.f dgmy

14. (Smith 4, 2–3) — jr “as for”: the sentence explains what is meant by r.f mr.(w)

15. (Meir III, pl. 11)

16. (Peas. B1, 109–10)

17. (Moalla, 163) — about the founding of a town; ḫr see § 18.11; w(j) “me”

18. (Sin. R 93) — m swḥt “in the egg” meaning “before he was born”

19. (CT VII, 438c–d) — ḫpr m “he who happens upon”; st see § 5.4; the final f refers to a gate in the netherworld

20. (Sin. B 111)

21. (Neferti 43) — a statement about daytime darkness

22. (CT I, 390c–91a)

23. (Hamm. 113, 10) — the stroke after grt is superfluous; the 1s suffix of prr.(j) is not written

24. (CT II, 221f–22c)

Fig. 16. Sarcophagus of Mentuhotep, head end (author’s photo)
The text in columns is a copy of two Pyramid Texts spells (see Essay 22) in cursive hieroglyphs.

1 English normally avoids noun clauses at the beginning of a sentence, replacing the noun clause by it and moving it after the verb: It is obvious that Jill has talent.

2 This is one of two words in which has the value jw; we will meet the other in the next lesson. Elsewhere is a biliteral with the value nj or an alternative writing of n.

3 hb is a participle, to be discussed in Lesson 23. The letter N stand for the name of the deceased for whom the spell was written.

4 This is an A pw B nominal sentence, used in a question (§ 11.11.2), where A is the noun mt “the truth” and B is the noun phrase p dd jw.k rḫ.tj tz dp ḥsq “the saying you know tying on a severed head.” In the noun phrase, the sentence jw.k rḫ.tj tz dp ḥsq “you know tying on a severed head” is the object of the infinitive p dd “the saying” (see § 14.8).

5 j.k is a spelling of jw.k in early manuscripts. The construction jnk smy.j is used to stress the subject “I”; it will be discussed in a later lesson.

6 The phrase bk jm means literally “the worker there”: see Essay 25.

7 The stative snḫ.t(j) means literally “caused to live”: the verb snḫ is often used as an idiom meaning “to feed” someone; the stative is feminine because its subject, the proper name of a town, is treated as feminine (§ 4.4). The name jw-m-jtrw means “Island in the River”; since it was pronounced as one word, the preposition m and the first consonant of jtrw were often combined in the biliteral sign mj (as in this example). The town was located in southern Egypt, between Luxor and Aswan.

8 The word nḫw “living” is a participle, discussed in Lesson 23.

9 The words mrrw “who love” and msdd(w) “who hate” are participles, discussed in Lesson 23. The infinitive ḫpt “pass on” has the unique determinative of a man lying on his back.

10 For the position of pw, see § 7.9. The spelling of mfkt “turquoise” shows the arm after the initial m as a biliteral mj and the common metathesis of fk > fk in this word. Egyptian is more literal than English in saying that the pendant fell ḥr “onto” the water.

11 ntj ḥr sḫt kt mdt is a marked relative clause, discussed in the next lesson.

12 mrrt.f “what he likes” is a relative form, discussed in the next lesson.

22.RELATIVE CLAUSES

22.1Definitions

A relative clause is a dependent clause that acts like an adjective, but instead of a single word it uses an entire statement to modify a noun. In the sentence Jill won first prize, the adjective first modifies the noun prize. Similarly, in the sentence This is the prize that Jill won, the relative clause that Jill won modifies the noun prize. In English, relative clauses can be marked by the words that, who, whom, which, or whose, but they can also be unmarked: This is the prize Jill won, where the independent statement Jill won is used to modify the noun prize just by the context.

Like adjectives, relative clauses in English normally cannot be used by themselves. When they are used without a noun, English usually requires a word such as one or ones in place of the noun, just as it does for adjectives. Thus, English can say They want a pilot who is experienced or They want one who is experienced but not *They want who is experienced, just as it can say an experienced pilot or an experienced one but not *an experienced. Like adjectives, relative clauses always presume the existence of a noun or noun phrase that they modify, even if the noun or noun phrase is not actually expressed. This noun or noun phrase is called the antecedent of the relative clause: in the English expression a pilot who is experienced, the noun phrase a pilot is the antecedent.

Because they contain a subject and a predicate, relative clauses are more complicated than simple adjectives or adjective phrases. One of the complicating factors is the relationship between the antecedent and the relative clause. In most cases, a relative clause must contain something that refers to the same thing that the antecedent does: grammarians call this element the resumptive or coreferent. It is regularly a pronoun, which has the same gender and number as the antecedent. Often the coreferent is the subject of the relative clause: in the English expression a pilot who is experienced, the coreferent is the relative pronoun who and it refers to the same person that the antecedent a pilot does. In many cases, however, the coreferent is not the subject of the relative clause. For example, in the English expression a pilot whose crew is experienced, the subject of the relative clause is the noun crew and the coreferent is the possessive relative pronoun whose; similarly, in the expression a pilot on whom the crew can rely, the noun crew is the subject of the relative clause and the coreferent, whom, is the object of the preposition on.

A relative clause in which the coreferent is the subject can be called a direct relative clause; one in which the coreferent is not the subject can be called an indirect relative clause. The difference between them is often difficult to see in English because the syntax of English relative clauses is extremely complex. In Egyptian, however, relative clauses have a much simpler syntax.

MARKED RELATIVE CLAUSES

22.2The relative adjective ntj

The English words who, which, and that are relative pronouns. Like other pronouns, they “stand for” a noun or noun phrase (see § 5.1), but they also have the specific function of serving as the coreferent in a relative clause. Like other English pronouns, too, they have different forms, depending on how they are used in the relative clause. The pronoun who has three forms: who, used as the subject of a relative clause (like he, she, or they); whose, used as a possessive (like his, her, or their); and whom, used as the object of a verb or preposition (like him, her, or them). The pronouns which and that also have a possessive form whose but are otherwise invariable.

Middle Egyptian has no relative pronouns. Instead, it has two relative adjectives. Like other adjectives, these have three forms: masculine singular, masculine plural, and feminine (see § 6.2). The most common relative adjective has the following forms:

masculine singular | ntj | [picture]
masculine plural | ntjw | (also without plural strokes)
feminine | ntt | [picture]

The endings of these words are the same as those of the nisbe (§ 6.2). In fact, ntj itself is a nisbe: it is formed from the word nt, which itself is nothing more than the feminine form of the genitival adjective (§ 4.13.2), used as a noun. The feminine form, ntt, is the same word that is used to introduce marked noun clauses (§ 21.4).

Like other adjectives, ntj agrees in gender and (if masculine) number with the word it modifies (in this case, its antecedent). In § 6.2, however, we noted that the feminine and plural forms of adjectives gradually disappeared from Egyptian, leaving only the masculine singular form. This is also true of ntj; occasionally, therefore, you will see the masculine singular form ntj used with plural or feminine antecedents as well.

The primary function of ntj can be stated very simply: it is a relative marker, which allows a sentence to serve as a relative clause. Most such clauses have an adverbial predicate, but examples are also attested with the pseudo-verbal construction, stative, the SUBJECT–sdm.f and SUBJECT–stative constructions, and for negated verbs.

22.3Direct relative clauses with ntj

English uses its relative pronouns as subject in direct relative clauses. Middle Egyptian normally uses ntj in the same way in its direct relative clauses: for example,

hnt(j).f ntj m ḥwt-ntr (Siut I, 290)
his statue, which is in the temple (adverbial predicate)

m.tn zt pw ntt ḥr mn.s (Westc. 10, 4)
Look, it is the wife, who is suffering (pseudo-verbal predicate)¹

t nbt nt zj ntt mr.tj (Ebers 1, 11)
any limb of a man that is ill (stative predicate).

In these examples the relative adjective serves as the subject of the relative clause, just as the relative pronouns which, who, and that do in their English translations.

22.4The relative adjective ntj as a noun

Like other adjectives (see § 6.4), ntj can also be used as a noun. When it is used just by itself, without an antecedent or a following relative clause, ntj is a noun meaning “he/she who is,” “that which is,” or “those who/which are” (depending on its form): for example,

nfr sdm r ntt nbt (Ptahhotep 541)
Hearing is better than anything that is.

More often, ntj used without an antecedent has a clause after it. In that case, the entire ntj clause functions as a noun, and ntj usually has to be translated as “one who,” “he who,” “that which,” and so forth: for instance,

mj ntj m mr.f (Leb. 41–42)
like one who is in his pyramid.

This is a direct relative clause with ntj as its subject; the entire clause serves as object of the preposition mj “like.” When ntj followed by a clause functions as a noun, it can be modified by the adjective nb, like other nouns. The phrase ntj nb (etc.) means “anyone who, whoever, everthing that,” and so forth: for example,

ḥn ntt nbt jm.f (Kahun, pl. 11, 23)
together with everything that is in it.

22.5Prepositional nisbes versus relative clauses with ntj

Although we did not consider it as such, the prepositional nisbe (§§ 8.6–8.7) is also a kind of relative clause, since it offers a way for a clause with adverbial predicate to be used like an adjective. Compare the following two examples:

ntrw nt(j)w m pt (CT VI, 273d) “the gods who are in the sky”
ntrw jmjw pt (CT V, 373b) “the gods who are in the sky.”

In the first example, the relative clause consists of the relative adjective ntjw serving as subject of the adverbial predicate m pt. In the second example, the prepositional part of the predicate has been converted to a nisbe.

Even though prepositional nisbes and relative clauses with ntj can be translated the same way in English, however, they actually say different things. The difference between them is the same as that between adverbial sentences with and without jw (§ 10.3). The prepositional nisbe is an unmarked construction (§ 11.3). In the phrase ntrw jmjw pt the nisbe says nothing about the time or circumstances in which “the gods” are “in the sky”—much like the English construction in which a noun is modified by a prepositional phrase (“the gods in the sky”), which is also not specific about time or circumstances. The prepositional nisbe often has gnomic meaning, just like the unmarked sentence ntrw m pt “The gods are in the sky”: both can imply that the sky is the normal location of the gods. In contrast, the relative clause with ntj is marked. In ntrw nt(j)w m pt the relative clause corresponds to the marked independent clause jw ntrw m pt “The gods are in the sky.” Both suggest a more limited relationship between the subject and predicate: implying, for example, that the gods are in the sky now but might be somewhere else at another time.

The relative adjective ntj can be considered as the relative-clause counterpart of the particle jw: Egyptian often uses ntj in relative clauses for the same reasons that it uses jw in main clauses, and a prepositional nisbe for the same reasons that it uses a main clause without jw. For this reason, relative clauses with ntj do not have nominal predicates in Middle Egyptian, just as such predicates are not normally used with jw in main clauses (§§ 10.3, 11.3).

22.6Indirect relative clauses with ntj

English and Egyptian handle indirect relative clauses differently. In English the coreferent is combined with the relative marker, in the relative pronoun. Egyptian does something similar with ntj only in direct relative clauses. In indirect relative clauses the relative marker (ntj) and the coreferent (a pronoun) are separate: for instance,

wsḫ ntj z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f jm.f (Westc. 8, 5)
the barge that king’s son Hardedef in was (adverbial predicate).

This means literally, “the barge that King’s Son Hardedef was in it.” Here the suffix pronoun of jm.f is the coreferent of the antecedent wsḫ “barge.” The prepositional phrase jm.f is the adverbial predicate of the relative clause, and the subject is the noun phrase z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f.

In the colloquial English translation “the barge that King’s Son Hardedef was in,” the difference between Egyptian and English is fairly simple: in indirect relative clauses, Egyptian syntax normally requires the coreferent to be expressed by a pronoun, and English syntax does not. Occasionally, however, the syntax of the two languages is even closer, because Egyptian can also omit the coreferent in some cases: for example,

bw ntj ntrw jm (CG 20485 b 4)
the place in which the gods are,

or more colloquially “the place that the gods are in,” using the prepositional adverb jm instead of the prepositional phrase jm.f. ²

If you examine the relative clauses in these examples, you will see that they are nothing more than independent statements—z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f jm.f “King’s Son Hardedef was in it” and ntrw jm “the gods are therein”—with the relative marker ntj in front of them. The same thing is true of all indirect relative clauses with ntj. The syntax of such clauses is very simple in Egyptian: ntj (or ntt or ntjw, depending on the gender and number of the antecedent) plus an independent statement. Unfortunately, the syntax of formal English is much more complicated, because it requires the coreferent to be combined with the relative marker in a relative pronoun. To illustrate the difference, here are the steps involved in both languages in producing the relative clause in the first example above:

EGYPTIAN: wsḫ modified by z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f jm.f

Insert a relative marker agreeing with the antecedent (masculine singular ntj): wsḫ ntj z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f jm.f.

FORMAL ENGLISH: the barge modified by King’s Son Hardedef was in it

insert a relative marker (REL): the barge REL King’s Son Hardedef was in it

combine the relative marker and coreferent into a relative pronoun (REL + it = which or that): the barge which King’s Son Hardedef was in

move the preposition in front of the relative pronoun: the barge in which King’s Son Hardedef was (this step can be omitted in colloquial English).

In this example, the coreferent is the object of the preposition m (which has the form jm with a pronominal suffix: § 8.2.3). This is not the only function the coreferent can have. It can also be the possessor of some element in the relative clause. In that case, English requires the possessive relative pronoun whose: for example,

zj ntj mrwt m ht.f (Ebers 13, 20–21)
the man in whose belly are pains

ntr pn ntj ḥr.f m tzm (BD 17)
this god whose face is (that of) a hound.

Here again, Egyptian syntax simply puts the proper form of ntj in front of an independent clause: literally, “the man who pains are in his belly” and “this god who his face is a hound.”

22.7Indirect relative clauses with ntj and pronominal or omitted subject

The examples in the preceding section all have a noun or noun phrase as subject of the relative clause (z-nswt ḥrw-dd.f, ntrw, mrwt, and ḥr.f ). When the subject of an indirect relative clause is a personal pronoun, Egyptian normally uses the suffix forms: for instance,

bw ntj.f jm (CT V, 91c)
the place that he is in.

When the masculine singular form ntj has a pronominal suffix, the two strokes can be omitted. This produces a word that looks like the independent pronouns: for example, nt(j).sn.

There are two exceptions to this rule: the dependent pronouns are used instead of the suffix forms for the first person singular (wj instead of .j) and for the neutral form st “it”:

t tn ntt wj jm.s (CT VII, 96p–q)
this room that I am in

bw ntj st jm (Westc. 9, 3–4)
the place that it was in.

As you may recall, this is the same pattern found after the word ntt introducing a noun clause (§ 21.4). This is because ntt in both cases is actually the feminine relative adjective (§ 22.2). Egyptian ntt is therefore similar to English that, because it can introduce both noun clauses and relative clauses.

Very rarely, the dependent pronouns are used for other persons as well. Of course, for the plural pronouns there is really no way to know whether the suffix or dependent form is being used, since both forms look alike (see § 5.4): for example, could represent either nt(j).sn (suffix pronoun) or nt(j) sn (with the dependent pronoun). This is also true when the third-person feminine singular is spelled with just a uniliteral s: for example, ntj.s or ntj s(j).

In adverbial sentences, the pronominal subject can sometimes be left unexpressed (§ 10.9). This also occurs in indirect relative clauses in the expression ntj n.f, which means literally “one who (there is something) for him.” It is used as a noun meaning “one who has things” (see § 11.9.3), just as English makes a noun out of the verb have in the expression the haves and the have-nots.

22.8Negative marked relative clauses

Because ntj essentially converts a sentence into a relative clause, it can be used with negated predicates as well as affirmative ones. Even in direct relative clauses, a negated predicate has to have its subject expressed:

ntt nn st m hnw.f (ShS. 51–52)
that which was not inside it

ntj nj m.t(w).f (ShS. 73)
one who has not been seen.

Both of these are relative clauses used as a noun, without an antecedent. The first contains the independent sentence nn st m hnw.f “it was not inside it,” with the pronoun st “it” as subject: literally, “that which it (st) was not in its interior (hnw.f ).” The second example has the negated sdm.f with the suffix pronoun f as subject: literally, “one who he has not been seen.”

In addition to this kind of construction, Middle Egyptian also has a second relative adjective, which is used to make negated relative clauses. It has the following three forms:

masculine singular | jwtj | [picture]
masculine plural | jwtjw | [picture]
feminine | jwtt | [picture]

This is actually just a nisbe of the word jwt that marks negated noun clauses in Old and early Middle Egyptian (§ 21.5). Just as jwt is the noun-clause form of the negative particle nj, jwtj is the relative-clause counterpart of nj.

The relative adjective jwtj was originally the negative counterpart of ntj, meaning “who not, which not,” etc. By the time of Middle Egyptian, however, negative relative clauses were usually made by using ntj and a negated sentence, as we saw above. The older form jwtj still appears, however, in a few uses:

with the sdm.f or sdm.n.f. This is a relative counterpart of nj sdm.f and nj sdm.n.f: for example,

jwt(j) sk.n.f (CT I, 31b)
“who cannot perish” (direct relative clause)

jwt(j) rḫ ntrw rn.f (CT I, 340d)
“whose name the gods do not know” (indirect relative clause).

followed by a noun with a suffix pronoun. This is the relative counterpart of the independent construction with nn (§ 11.4): for example,

mdt jwtt zhw.s (Ebers 30, 7)
“a scroll that has no writing” (literally, “a scroll that-not its writing”).

In this use, jwtj can also be translated as “without” (“a scroll without writing”), or as the suffix “–less”: e.g. jwt(j) mjwt.f (Peas. B1, 95) “motherless.”

the expression jwtj-n.f. This is the negative counterpart of ntj n.f (§ 20.15), and means “a have-not”: literally, “one who (there is) not (something) for him.” The expression jwtj-sw is a variant of jwtj-n.f and means the same thing, although its syntax has not been satisfactorily explained.

Like ntj, jwtj can also be used alone, without an antecedent or relative clause, as a noun meaning “he who is not,” “that which is not,” and so forth. The phrase ntt jwtt “that which is and that which is not” is an idiom for “everything imaginable.”

UNMARKED RELATIVE CLAUSES

22.9Features

In English, unmarked relative clauses are generally indirect: for example, we can talk about the girl Jack wants to marry as well as the girl that (or whom) Jack wants to marry. English also uses unmarked direct relative clauses, but only for certain kinds of constructions: for example, we can say the soprano on stage as well as the soprano who is on stage and the soprano singing the aria as well as the soprano who is singing the aria but not *the soprano sang the aria if we mean the soprano who sang the aria.

Egyptian has fewer restrictions on its unmarked relative clauses. It can use such clauses for both direct and indirect relationships; as in ntj-clauses, it generally requires a resumptive pronoun in indirect relative clauses. Unmarked relative clauses, both direct and indirect, are found with non-verbal, pseudo-verbal, and verbal predicates.

22.10Unmarked relative clauses with non-verbal or pseudo-verbal predicate

Unmarked relative clauses can have nominal and adjectival predicates as well as adverbial ones but only if the antecedent is undefined (§ 4.9): for example,

qrft nbw jm.s (Rhind Problem 62)
a sack with gold in it (adverbial predicate)

srt jw.s m ḥ w (Ebers 88, 4)
a thorn that is in the body (adverbial predicate with jw)

nds ddj rn.f (Westc. 6, 26–7, 1)
a commoner whose name is Djedi (A B nominal predicate)

špss pw n.f ḫwt (Neferti 10)
He was a noble who had much property (adjectival predicate)

wsḫt nn ḥmw.s (Sin. R 38)
a barge with no rudder (nn plus a noun: § 11.4).

Although these clauses do not have anything to show that they are subordinate, they do have the features of relative clauses: they follow the noun or noun phrase they modify and they have a coreferential pronoun that agrees in gender and number with the antecedent. In form, however, they are identical to main clauses: nbw jm.s “gold is in it,” jw.s m ḥ w “it is in the body,” ddj rn.f “his name is Djedi,” n.f ḫwt “he had much property” (literally, “things were great for him”), and nn ḥmw.s “its rudder is not.” The only thing that distinguishes them from main clauses is the context they are used in.

Since they are actually adverbial sentences, pseudo-verbal predicates can be used in the same way:

jw.f m nds n rnpt 110 jw.f ḥr wnm t 500 (Westc. 7, 1–2)
He is a gentleman of 110 years, who eats 500 (loaves of) bread (a day)

ḥfw pw jw.f m jjt (ShS. 61–62)
It was a snake, who was coming

ms pw n hn nḫn jw.f r šzp ḥdt (Neferti 59)
He is a child of the South, who is to receive the White Crown.³

Note that the relative clauses here all start with jw, just as if they were independent statements. When the relative clause comes immediately after its antecedent, however, jw and its suffix pronoun can be omitted: for example,

zj ḥr mn r-jb.f (Ebers 40, 5)
a man suffering from his stomach.⁴

As we saw in § 22.5, adverbial predicates can also be made into relative clauses by using a nisbe of the preposition. For the second example in this section, Egyptian could also have said srt jmt ḥ w “a thorn that is in the body.” Because the nisbe form of an adverbial predicate is not specific about time or circumstances, however, it is often gnomic, meaning that it refers to something that is generally true (not a desirable thing for a thorn in the body!). The statement srt jw.s m ḥ w refers to a thorn that happens to be in the body, not one that is there regularly or permanently (see § 10.3).

Theoretically, pseudo-verbal predicates could also have been made into relative clauses by using a nisbe of the preposition: for instance, for the last example above, *zj ḥr(j) mn, literally, “a man who is upon suffering.” But Egyptian does not seem to have done this. The example just cited, therefore, has to be analysed as a relative clause without a subject (like the English translation “a man suffering”). Although they are adverbial predicates, pseudo-verbal predicates are also finite verbal constructions: they denote actions that are in some way limited in their time or aspect. This is apparently why Egyptian did not use the nisbe form of such predicates.

22.11Unmarked relative clauses with the stative

The stative appears as predicate in unmarked relative clauses but only after an undefined antecedent. An example with the SUBJECT–stative construction is:

m sm zj jw.k rḫ.tj ḫw.f (Merikare 5, 4)
Don’t kill a man whose usefulness you know.

This is an indirect relative clause, where the suffix pronoun of jw.k is the subject of the relative clause and the suffix pronoun of ḫw.f “his usefulness” is the coreferent of the undefined antecedent zj “a man.”⁵ Note that Egyptian requires the coreferent; in English it is absorbed into the relative pronoun whose (from “who his”).

The stative is also used by itself as the predicate of unmarked relative clauses, but only of those that are direct (since an indirect relative clause would require a separate subject): for example,

š t jst snwḫ.tj ḥr mrḥt (Ebers 49, 1–2)
an old papyrus scroll, which has been boiled in (literally, “on”) oil.

In most such cases, the stative comes immediately after its antecedent noun or noun phrase (as here). We have already seen the same phenomenon in relative clauses with a pseudo-verbal predicate after an undefined antecedent, at the end of the preceding section (zj ḥr mn r-jb.f “a man suffering from his stomach”).

22.12Unmarked relative clauses with the sdm.n.f

The sdm.n.f expresses completed action in an unmarked relative clause, as it does in main clauses:

bnr š .n.f r(w)d (Hearst med. 4, 13)
a date that has started to harden

mj zj smt.n sw ḫnws (Ebers 102, 1–2)
like a man a mosquito has tormented.

In the first case, the relative clause is direct: the suffix pronoun of š .n.f “it has started” refers back to the antecedent bnr “a date” and is the subject of the relative clause. In the second example, the relative clause is indirect: ḫnws “a mosquito” is subject of the relative clause, and its object sw “him” refers back to the antecedent zj “a man.”

These two examples have an undefined antecedent, like those in the preceding sections. Unlike non-verbal, pseudo-verbal, and stative predicates, however, the sdm.n.f can also be used as the predicate of an unmarked relative clause after a defined antecedent. In that case, the gender and number of the antecedent are copied onto the stem of the sdm.n.f: for example,

masculine singular | z mr.n.f “the son that he wanted”
masculine plural | zw mrw.n.f “the sons that he wanted”
feminine | zt mrt.n.f “the daughter that he wanted”
| zwt mrt.n.f “the daughters that he wanted.”

The pattern is the same as that for other adjectives: masculine singular forms have no ending;⁶ feminine forms end in –t, both singular and plural; and masculine plural forms end in –w.

The sdm.n.f with these endings is traditionally called the relative sdm.n.f (or sdm.n.f relative), although it is not a special form, just the “regular” sdm.n.f with gender/number endings; in fact, the masculine singular forms are indistinguishable: mr.n.f z “he wanted a son” and z mr.n.f “a son that he wanted” (sdm.n.f) or “the son that he wanted” (relative sdm.n.f). For the masculine plural and feminine, the sdm.n.f has gender and number endings only when the antecedent is defined.

22.13Unmarked relative clauses with the sdm.f

The sdm.f is one of the most frequent predicates in unmarked relative clauses. In this use the relative clause can be direct or indirect, and the sdm.f can be affirmative or negated and passive as well as active: for example,

smw snwtt rn.s rd.s ḥr ht.s mj qdwt (Ebers 51, 15–16)
a plant called snwtt, which grows on its belly like creepers

t w nj rḫ sw r(m)t (ShS. 148)
a far-off land that people don’t know

sbj gm zḥw.f (Merikare 5, 3)
a rebel whose plots have been discovered.

The first example has two direct relative clauses after the undefined antecedent smw “a plant”: snwtt rn.s, with a nominal predicate (see § 22.10); and rd.s ḥr ht.s mj qdwt, with the sdm.f. Both clauses could be sentences by themselves—snwtt rn.s “its name is snwtt” and rd.s ḥr ht.s mj qdwt “it grows on its belly like creepers”—but here they are relative clauses by virtue of the context they are used in. The second example has a negated sdm.f in an indirect relative clause: literally, “a far-off land people don’t know it.” The predicate in the third example is the passive sdm.f: literally, “a rebel his plots have been discovered.”

The sdm.f follows the same rule as the sdm.n.f: it can be used not only after an undefined antecedent but also after a defined one, and in that case the gender and number of the antecedent are copied onto the stem of the sdm.f. In the latter case, the verb form is traditionally known as the relative sdm.f (or sdm.f relative).

Its form is a bit more complicated than that of the sdm.n.f: the endings are more varied, and gemination appears not only for verbs with geminated roots but also in verbs of the 3ae-inf., 4ae-inf., and anom. classes. The following are representative forms:

masculine singular | z mr.f “the son that he wants” z mrr.f “the son that he loves”
masculine plural | zw mrw.f “the sons that he wants” zw mrrw.f “the sons that he loves”

feminine
zt mrt.f “the daughter that he wants”
zt mrrt.f “the daughter that he loves”
zwt mrt.f “the daughters that he wants”
zwt mrrt.f “the daughters that he loves.”

The masculine singular can also have an ending –w or –y (like some nouns) and the feminine can have the ending –yt instead of just –t: examples of these are z mry.f “the son that he wants,” z mrrw.f “the son that he loves,” and zt mryt.f “the daughter that he wants.” The feminine ending –t is sometimes written (representing t plus a vowel) instead of for example, ddtj.f (Urk. IV, 1195, 8) “what he might say.”

The endings –y and –yt mostly occur on the relative sdm.f of final-weak verbs (such as mrj), but the masculine singular ending –w can appear with any verb. With some exceptions, –y is an ending of the base stem and -w an ending of the geminated one. Originally both stems could end in –w, but this ending is rarely found with the ungeminated form of the relative sdm.f in Middle Egyptian. The two endings either reflect different ways of writing a final vowel, or they are the result of a sound change: thus, mry.f was originally mrw.f and mrry.f is simply a variant of mrrw.f. A good example of this change is the form ddwy.j (Brunner, Chrestomathie, pl. 11, 17) “which I say,” which shows both the original ending –w and the later ending –y (i.e., ddw.j > ddy.j), much as the writing swrj “drink” reflects both the original radical r and its Middle Kingdom pronunciation j (i.e., swr > swj: see § 2.8.4).

Because the stem endings are “weak” consonants, they are often omitted in writing. Since it is impossible to know whether the omitted ending was –w or –y, Egyptologists normally do not supply it in transcription: thus, a form such as is simply transcribed as mr.f, and geminated is transcribed as mrr.f.

22.14Meaning of the relative forms

When the sdm.n.f and the sdm.f are used in unmarked relative clauses, they have the same meanings as in other uses. The sdm.n.f describes completed action, and normally corresponds to the past or perfect tenses of English: for example:

jdw m.n.f ḫnt (Kemit, pl. 8)
the boy that he saw previously — (past)

m.k m n n kwt jr.n.k (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 19)
Look, those works that you have done have been seen — (perfect).

The relative sdm.n.f of the verb rḫ “learn” describes the completion of the act of “learning,” and therefore usually means “know” (present), like the sdm.n.f of this verb (§ 17.10): for instance:

šm b r bw rḫ.n.f (Merikare 11, 7)
The ba goes to the place that it knows.

The same is true for the verb ḫm “not learn,” the opposite of rḫ: its sdm.n.f and relative sdm.n.f mean “not know, be ignorant of.”

The relative sdm.f simply describes action. The ungeminated form (traditionally called “perfective”) describes action without any indication of tense or aspect, and can therefore be used with reference to any tense: for instance,

jr mj qd m mrt.f (pBerlin 3029, 1, 7)
It has been done completely as that which he wanted — (past)

mry št mnmnt nbt (Helck, Nilhymnus, 68)
one whom the multitude of every herd wants — (present)

wnn nn n ḫwt n z.k w mr.k (Siut I, 272)
These things shall be for the one son of yours that you will want — (future).

The geminated form (or “imperfective”) is also tenseless, but it carries the aspectual connotation of repetitive, continual, or normative action. In most cases it is used to describe customary or habitual action, as in

jr ḥms.k ḥn št msd t mrr.k (Kagemni 1, 3–4)
When you sit down (to eat) with a crowd, hate the bread you love.

In other words, make a good impression by not eating too much of the things mrr.k “you normally like” to eat.

Although they are both essentially tenseless, however, the two stems of the relative sdm.f tend to be associated with some tenses more than others. The base stem is often used to describe future action and the geminated stem normally corresponds to the English present tense: for example,

dd n.j jrt.tn r.s (Himmelskuh, 3)
Tell me what you will do about it

ky jrr ḥjmt r.s (Ebers 98, 14b)
Another (remedy) that a woman does for it.

When the two forms are used with reference to the same tense, however, the base stem denotes a single action and the geminated one describes repeated or ongoing action. A good example of this contrast can be seen in a common set of relative clauses that are used to describe someone as an individual whom people “love” (mrj) or “bless” (ḥzj): for example,

mry nswt mrrw njwt.f ḥzzw ntrw.s nbw (Bersheh I, pl. 15)
one whom the king loves, whom his town loves, and whom all its gods bless.

The base stem is used in the first clause and the geminated one in the next two clauses not because they express a difference in tense but because of the subjects they have. The base form mry is used with the singular subject nswt “the king” because it is thought of as a single instance of “wanting.” With the collective subject njwt.f “his town” and the plural subject ntrw.s nbw “all its (the town’s) gods,” however, the geminated forms mrrw and ḥzzw are used because these subjects refer to more than one actor and therefore more than one instance of “wanting” and “blessing.”

The verb mrj “want” is a good illustration of the basic aspectual difference that exists between the two stems. Both forms of this verb can be used with the same antecedent and the same subject: for example,

ḥjmt.f mrt.f mrrt.f (CG 20133 e)
his wife, whom he wanted and whom he loves.

In this case the base form refers to a single action while the geminated stem expresses the same action as continual: we can paraphrase this as “his wife, whom he fell in love with (mrt.f) and still loves (mrrt.f).” Similarly, a son can be called both z.f mr.f (CG 20162 a 1) and z.f mrr.f (CG 20358 b 1) Both of these mean “his son, whom he loves,” but the first is a general statement while the second emphasizes the continued nature of the “loving.” As a general rule, the base form is unmarked and can refer to one or more instances of an action, while the geminated form is marked for repeated or continual action.

22.15Unmarked relative clauses as nouns

You may have noticed that some of the examples in the preceding section did not have antecedents. Like adjectives, relative clauses can be used both to modify a preceding noun or as nouns by themselves, without an expressed antecedent. This is true not only for marked relative clauses (§ 22.4) but also for unmarked ones. Most often, unmarked relative clauses used as nouns have a form of the relative sdm.f or sdm.n.f: i. e.,

zt mrt.f “the daughter he wants” | mrt.f “the one he wants”
zt mrrt.f “the daughter he loves” | mrrt.f “the one he loves”
zt mrt.n.f “the daughter he wanted” | mrt.n.f “the one he wanted.”

When the relative forms function as nouns by themselves, Egyptian regularly uses the feminine singular not only to refer to an unmentioned feminine antecedent such as ḥjmt “woman” but also for the kind of clause that corresponds to an English relative clause with “that which” or “what”: for example, mrt.f “that which he wants” or mrt.n.f “what he wanted.” This is probably because Egyptian is thinking of an unmentioned feminine ḫt “thing.”

In most cases, unmarked relative clauses used as nouns are defined, but they can also be undefined. An example is the nominal sentence of the pattern jnk sdm.f “I am (or was) one who hears”: for instance,

jnk mr.f nfrt msd.f dwt (BM 159, 11)
I am one who loves what is good and hates what is evil.

Such sentences are common in Middle Kingdom biographies of officials. The suffix subject of mr.f and msd.f is masculine because the speaker is a man: it refers to an unexpressed antecedent such as zj “man”—i.e., jnk (zj) mr.f nfrt “I am (a man) who loves what is good.”

22.16Special uses of unmarked relative clauses with the sdm.f

The sdm.f can appear as an unmarked relative clause after vocatives (§ 15.3) and proper names. Both behave like undefined antecedents: for example,

nb sjz.f grg sḫpr m t (Peas. B1, 271–72)
(Oh, you) lord who makes lying easy, bring about Maat!

The most frequent occurrence of the sdm.f as an unmarked relative clauses after a proper name is on stelae, where the clause dd.f “who says” (rarely also or j.dd.f ) follows the name of the person honored on the stela and precedes that person’s speech: for example,

(j)m(j)-r pr nḫt-sbkw nb jmḫ dd.f
nj zp jry.j ḫt nbt dwj r r(m)t nb (CG 20729 a 1–3)
The steward Nakhtsobek, possessor of worth, who says,
“I never did anything badly against any people.”

A similar use is found in the captions to scenes. We have already examined this use of the sdm.f in § 20.12 for the caption jmnt … sḥtp.s jb dj.s nḫ ws nb. In addition to the two interpretations discussed there—“Amaunet … is contenting the heart and giving all life and dominion” and “(This is) Amaunet … contenting the heart and giving all life and dominion”—it is also possible to translate the sdm.f clauses as unmarked relatives: “Amaunet … who contents the heart and gives all life and dominion.” The same three interpretations are possible for the following example from a ritual text, in which the sdm.f is used as an unmarked relative after the proper name ḥrw “Horus”:

ḥrw pw šd.f jrt.f m sth (Sethe, DT, pl. 6, 72)
It is Horus, taking his eye from Seth—or
It means that (§ 21.12) Horus is taking his eye from Seth—or
It is Horus, who takes his eye from Seth.

In the end, of course, these differences of interpretation only concern the English translation. No matter how the sentence is understood, the words in Egyptian are the same: ḥrw pw followed by a clause with the sdm.f. This points up the need to remember the basic meaning of Egyptian verb forms. The sdm.f is a single verb form, expressing basically action, whether it is used in generalizations or for the imperfect; by itself or in the SUBJECT-sdm.f construction; and in main clauses or subordinate clauses. Different English translations are necessary for these various uses only because of differences between Egyptian and English, not because of differences in Egyptian itself.

22.17Coreferents

As we saw in § 22.1, relative clauses contain some element (known as the coreferent) that refers to the same thing as the antecedent, whether or not the antecedent itself is expressed. In such clauses the antecedent is normally identical with one of four elements in the relative clause.⁷

1)Direct object of the relative form

This is the most common construction in relative clauses with a relative sdm.f or sdm.n.f. In this case the coreferent is not expressed: for example,

zt A ktt jnt.n.j (ShS. 29)
the little daughter A that I got

mj øA mt.n ḥm.j m zhw.f (Helck, HBT, 22)
like thatA which My Incarnation has seen in his writings.

Note that English also does not express the coreferent in this case: we do not say *“the little daughter A I got her C” or *“(a thing A) that My Incarnation has seen it C,” just as Egyptian does not say * zt A ktt jnt.n.j sj C or *mt.n st C ḥm.j. This construction is only possible with transitive verbs, since only transitive verbs can have a direct object.

2)Object of a preposition

The antecedent can also be identical with the object of a preposition in the relative clause. In this case the coreferent is normally expressed: for example,

hnwA ḫpr.n.k jm.f C (Sin. B 188)
the home A you grew up in (or “the home A in whichC you grew up”)

ddw n.f C dḥwtj jwt (Himmelskuh, 28)
oneA to whomC Thoth gives praise.

These are literally, “the home A which you grew up in it C” and “(a person A) who Thoth gives him C praise.” As the translations of these examples show, the coreferent is not expressed in English, though Egyptian normally requires it. When the coreferent is the object of the preposition m, however, it can also be omitted in Egyptian: for instance,

bwA jn.n.f sw jm.øC (Sin. B 164)
the place A he got him from

ḫtA nb nfrt w bt nḫt ntr jm.øC (Brunner, Chrestomathie, pl. 11, 2–3)
every good and pure thing A that a god lives on.

3)A possessive

The antecedent can be identical with a suffix pronoun attached as possessive to a noun in the relative clause. English normally requires the translation of such clauses with the relative word whose or of whom, without an expressed coreferent: for example,

ntr A pf mnḫ wnnw snd.f C ḫt ḫswt mj sḫmt (Sin. B 44–45)
that efficient god A, fear of whomC is throughout countries, like Sekhmet

øA dmd bw jnw r mswt.f C r jrt (n)swt nḥḥ (Urk. IV, 2026, 14)
oneA at whoseC birth the bas of Heliopolis united to make a king of eternity.

These mean literally, “that efficient god A who his C fear is throughout the foreign lands” and “(a king A) who the bas of Heliopolis united at his C birth.” In this case the coreferent is always expressed in Egyptian. In English it is usually subsumed into the relative pronoun whose, which stands for the phrase who his C.

4)Part of a dependent clause governed by the relative form

The relative forms can govern a dependent clause of their own, such as a noun clause or an adverb clause, and the antecedent of the relative clause can be identical with some element in such dependent clauses: for example,

sdr A rdj.n.k rs.f C (Peas. B1, 316)
a sleeper A whomC you have caused to awake

øA kt.n.f jrt st C r.j (Sin. B 144–45)
thatA which he intended to do to me.

In the first example, the coreferent is the subject of a sdm.f used as object of the relative form rdj.n.k: literally, “a sleeperA whom you have caused that heC awake.” In the second example the coreferent is the object of the infinitive jrt, which itself is the object of the relative form kt.n.f: literally, “(the thing A) that he intended to do it C to me.”

These examples show how Egyptian expresses the coreferent where English usually omits it. Like English, however, Egyptian can also omit the coreferent in such constructions: for instance,

d mA dj.n.f jnt øC ḥm.j (Sethe, Lesestücke, 70, 18)
the electrum A he caused My Incarnation to get

ḥ sw m øA št.n.j jrt øC (Helck, HBT, 28)
He is excited about what I have decided to do.

In the first of these examples, the relative form dj.n.f governs a sdm.f, and the unexpressed coreferent is the object of the sdm.f; this could also have been expressed as d mA dj.n.f jnt sw C ḥm.j—literally, “the electrum A that he caused that My Incarnation get it C.” In the second example the relative form št.n.f governs an infinitive and the unexpressed coreferent is the object of the infinitive; Egyptian could also have said št.n.j jrt st C—literally, “(the thing A) that I have decided to do it C.” Unlike the other three constructions with relative forms, in this case there are no hard and fast rules that determine when Egyptian expresses the coreferent and when it omits it.

22.18Word order in relative clauses

Relative clauses obey the normal rules of word order for clauses with a verbal predicate (§§ 14.6, 18.4): for example,

mdww ddw ntrw dwtjw n ntr pn (Amduat III, 4)
the words that the Duat-gods say to this god (VSD)

mdww ddw n.sn ntr pn (Amduat III, 4)
the words that this god says to them (VdS)

nn n zhw rdj.n wj wp(w)tj n ḥm.k ḥr.s (Kemit, pl. 5)
this writing that the messenger of Your Incarnation assigned me to (VoS).⁸

When they are used by themselves, as nouns, the relative sdm.f and sdm.n.f can be modified by the adjective nb “all, each, every, any”: for instance,

ḫnt.(j) nbt jm (JEA 33, 7, 9)
wherever I might land—literally, “any (place) that I might land in”

mrrt nbt k.j (Urk. IV, 618, 11)
all that my ka loves

hbt.n.j n.k nb ḥr.s (Heqanakht I, vo. 9)
all I have written to you about—literally, “all that I have sent to you about it.”

As these examples show, nb tends to come as close to the relative form as possible, though a pronominal dative can come between them.

22.19Translating relative forms

As the examples in the previous sections illustrate, relative clauses with a relative form often require an English translation whose syntax is quite different from that of Egyptian. This is because the syntax of English relative clauses is much more complicated than that of Egyptian—as we have already observed in our discussion of relative clauses with ntj (§ 22.6). All relative clauses can be understood as statements that have been converted to function as relative clauses. The rules for doing this are actually fairly simple in Egyptian. They can be illustrated by the following example:

ḥdt A t ḥ t psdt m nfrw.s C (Erman, Hymnen, 1, 1–2)
the great white oneA, at whoseC beauty the Ennead becomes excited.

In Egyptian and in English this construction is formed from two parts: the antecedent ḥdt t “the great white one” (a crown), and the statement ḥ psdt m nfrw.s “the Ennead becomes excited at her beauty.” In Egyptian the statement has been converted to modify the antecedent by one simple procedure:

add a gender and number ending to agree with the defined antecedent: ḥ t psdt m nfrw.s (this step is omitted for undefined antecedents, and eventually in late Middle Egyptian for defined ones as well).

In contrast, the same conversion requires four procedures in formal English:

insert a relative marker (REL): the great white one REL the Ennead is excited at her beauty

move the coreferent phrase after the relative marker: the great white one REL her beauty the Ennead is excited at

combine the relative marker and coreferent into a relative pronoun (REL + her → whose): the great white one whose beauty the Ennead is excited at

move the preposition in front of the relative pronoun: the great white one at whose beauty the Ennead is excited (this step can be omitted in colloquial English).

As you can see, the syntax of clauses with an Egyptian relative form is much simpler than corresponding relative clauses in English. The difference between the two languages is especially pronounced when the coreferent is part of a dependent clause governed by the relative form: for example,

nbt A ḥtpwt ḥ t jsr ⁹ m.f s(j) C (CT III, 324g–h)
the mistress A of offerings, at whom Osiris is excited when he sees her C

ḥtpw ntrw ḥr ddt.f C (Pyr. 1845b)
he A who because of what he C says the gods are content.

In the first of these examples the coreferent s(j) is the object of m.f, which is the sdm.f in an unmarked adverb clause dependent on the relative form ḥ t jsr—literally, “the mistress A of offerings, who Osiris is excited when he sees her C.” In the second, both ḥtpw and ddt.f are relative forms, and the coreferent is the subject of ddt.f— literally, “he A who the gods are content because of what he C says.” Although both examples are relatively straightforward constructions in Egyptian (as can be seen from their literal translations), they are quite difficult to translate into the convoluted relative constructions that formal English requires. In the first case this is possible only by inserting a preposition (at) that does not exist in the Egyptian; the translation given for the second example is even more contorted.

Because the two languages handle relative clauses so differently, students of Egyptian—and even experienced Egyptologists—usually have more trouble with relative forms than with any other part of Middle Egyptian grammar. The best way to understand such clauses is by keeping in mind the simple and straightforward nature of the Egyptian constructions. When you are confronted with relative forms, don’t try to put them immediately into proper English. Instead, you should first translate them literally, word for word, and only then convert your translation into grammatical English (insofar as possible).

22.20Passive relative forms

In English, the verb form in a relative clause can be passive as well as active: for example, we can say not only the student whose essay the teacher praised but also the student whose essay was praised by the teacher. Egyptian relative forms are normally active. To make a passive relative, Egyptian could use the passive sdm.f (§ 22.13) or the active sdm.f or sdm.n.f with the suffix tw: for example,

šw n sḥw.n qrs.tw wb[w] m jnw.sn (Adm. 3, 7)
cedars for our privileged, with the produce of which the pure are buried.”¹⁰

This is an unmarked relative clause with an undefined antecedent (which is why the sdm.f is qrs.tw and not qrsw.tw): literally, “cedars A … the pure are buried with their C produce.” Such uses are not all that common: Egyptian prefers a different construction, which will be discussed in Lesson 24.

22.21The relative forms of wnn and p

Although the verb wnn “exist, be” does not seem to have had a regular sdm.n.f, it does have a relative sdm.n.f, as well as a relative sdm.f. These forms can be used in relative clauses where wnn serves as a verb in its own right: for example,

swt pw wnn t-ḥd.f (CT VI, 403n)
He is the one whose white-bread exists.¹¹

Such uses are quite rare, however. Normally the relative forms of wnn are used to allow adverbial predicates to function as relatives. An example with the geminated sdm.f has been cited in § 22.17.3 above; another, with the sdm.n.f, is the following:

t wnt.n.j ḥr.s (Urk. IV, 1545, 8)
that which (§ 5.8) I was on.

The verb p “do once,” which we met in § 18.13, can also be used in unmarked relative clauses, with following infinitive. The following example has an undefined antecedent:

nj ḫpr mjtt n bkw p.n nb.sn ḥzt st (Beni Hasan I, pl. 25, 110–13)
The like did not happen to servants whose master had ever blessed them,

literally, “who their master once blessed them.” This could also have been expressed with the sdm.n.f of ḥzj—bkw ḥz.n nb.sn “servants whose master had blessed (them)”— but the use of p here adds the extra connotation of “once, ever.”

22.22The relative forms in questions

Although Egyptian can use an interrogative as the object of a verb (§ 18.16 jry.j mj “What shall I do?”), it seems to prefer a nominal sentence with a relative form as subject: for example,

ptr jrt.n.k (Sin. B 183)
What have you done?

This is an A B nominal sentence, with ptr as the predicate and the relative form jrt.n.k as subject: literally, “That which you have done is what?” (see § 7.13).

22.23Negation of the relative forms

The relative sdm.f and sdm.n.f are negated by means of the verb tm. This verb occurs in the relative form, followed by the negatival complement (or less often, the infinitive) of the verb being negated: i.e.,

mt.f “what he will see” | tmt.f m “what he will not see”
mt.f “what he sees” | tmt.f m “what he does not see”
mt.n.f “what he has seen” | tmt.n.f m “what he has not seen.”

The following is an example in which the relative sdm.n.f is negated:

nn mdt tmt.n.f rq sj (Urk. IV, 1074, 5)
There is no matter that he did not understand.

Note that the coreferent, sj “it” (referring back to mdt “matter”), is expressed here because it is the object of the negatival complement rq and not the object of the relative form tmt.n.f itself.

22.24Some common uses of the relative forms

We have already met the relative sdm.n.f as part of the construction sdm pw jr.n.f “what he did was to hear” (§ 13.14.3).¹² Relative forms with a god’s name as subject are common in proper names, often with the god’s name in honorific transposition: for example, mry-r (PN I, 160, 23) “He whom the Sun desires,” ddt-jmn (PN I, 403, 7) “She whom Amun gives,” ḫw.n-jnpw (Peas. R 1, 1) “He whom Anubis has protected.” The relative stp.n-r “whom the Sun has chosen” is part of many New Kingdom royal names. An example is WSR-M T-R STP.N-R , the throne name of Ramesses II (Dyn. 19, ca. 1290–1223 BC), meaning “Powerful one of the Sun’s Maat, whom the Sun has chosen.” The personal name of this king also contains a relative sdm.f form: R -MS-SW MR-JMN(W), meaning “the Sun is the one who gave him birth, whom Amun desired.” We have the actual pronunciation of both these names thanks to a transcription in cuneiform, where the vowels are written: wasmu arí a satipnarí a and ri amasísa mayamána.¹³

Individuals sometimes added the names of their parents after their own by means of the relative forms jr.n and ms.n: for instance,

zh n ḫnrt wr sbk-ḥtp.(w) m ḫrw nb jmḫ jr.n zh n ḫnrt wr snb-n.j m ḫrw ms.n nbt pr rn.s-rs.(w) m t ḫrw (Brunner, Chrestomathie, pl. 11, 4–5)

Chief prison-scribe Sebekhotep, justified, possessor of worth, begotten of the chief prison-scribe Senebni, justified, born of the house-mistress Renesres, justified.¹⁴

The clauses jr.n X and ms.n Y mean “whom X made” and “whom Y birthed,” but they are normally translated “begotten of ” and “born of ” because the length of the phrases that serve as their subject usually makes a literal translation clumsy in English.

Kings can be described as “beloved” of a particular god by means of the relative form mry with the god’s name as subject (often in honorary transposition): for example,

nswt bjt NBW-KW-R mry-jsjr-ḫnt-jmntjw (BM 574, 1)
Dual King Nubkaure, beloved of Osiris, foremost of Westerners.¹⁵

Here too the expression mry X is translated “beloved of X” rather than “whom X desires” because the length of the god’s name and epithets would often require too much of a separation between “whom” and “desires.” Sometimes the relative mr.n is used in this context: for example,

nswt-bjt DSR-ḪPRW-R STP.N-R mr.n jmn (Urk. IV, 2031, 4)
Dual King Djeserkheperure-setepenre,whom Amun has desired.¹⁶

This does not mean that the god has finished “loving” the king. Instead, mr.n means something like “wanted”—i.e., “whom Amun wanted (for his son and successor as king).”

22.25The ḥtp-dj-nswt formula

One of the most common uses of the relative forms is in a dedicatory formula found on coffins, stelae, and other funerary objects. This is known as the ḥtp-dj-nswt formula, from its opening words. The following is a typical example, from a stela of the late Middle Kingdom,

ḥtp-dj-nswt jsjr ḫnt(j) jmntjw ntr nb bdw wp-wwt nb t dsr

dj.sn prt-ḫrw t ḥnqt kw pdw šsr mnḫt ḫt nbt nfrt w bt ddt pt qm(t) t jnnt ḥ p(j) nḫt ntr jm ḥtpwt dfw tw ndm n nḫ

n k n rḫ-nswt snbj šrj m ḫrw ms.n nbt pr jwwj m t ḫrw (Vienna 168, 8–12)

A royal offering of Osiris, foremost of Westerners, the great god, lord of Abydos, and of Wepwawet, lord of the Sacred Land,

giving an invocation offering of bread and beer, cattle and fowl, linen and clothing—every good and pure thing that the sky gives, the earth creates, the inundation brings, on which a god lives—offerings, food, and the sweet air of life,

for the ka of the king’s acquaintance Senebi Jr., justified, born of the housemistress Iuui, justified.

This formula underwent a number of changes in the course of Egyptian history and it has many different versions, but most examples have the same four elements in common.

1)The dedication

The formula always begins with the expression (sometimes This is a relative clause, ḥtp-dj-nswt: literally, “an offering that the king gives,” with nswt “king” in honorary transposition. It identifies the object on which it is inscribed as a funerary item authorized by the king himself: in effect, a royal funerary gift. Some inscriptions specifically say as much: for example:

jr qrst tn jn nswt [dj] n.j st m [hrj-ntr] m ḥtp-dj-nswt (Licht, 85 fig. 102)

As for this burial, it is the king who gave it to me in the necropolis as a royal offering. ¹⁷

Because of its practical meaning and the way it is normally associated with the rest of the formula, ḥtp-dj-nswt is often better translated as “a royal offering” rather than literally with a relative clause.

2)The agent

The king’s “gift” is normally made not by the king personally but by a local funerary establishment. The god of such establishments, usually Osiris or Anubis, is understood as the agent of the gift. His participation is usually recognized in the formula by the appearance of his name and epithets as a direct genitive after ḥtp-dj-nswt. The example given here, which was erected at Abydos, cites two gods in this way: Osiris, king of the dead (“foremost of Westerners”) and chief god of Abydos; and Wepwawet, guardian of the cemetery at Abydos (the “Sacred Land”).

Sometimes the god’s name is introduced by the indirect genitive or the preposition jn “by”: for example, ḥtp-dj-nswt n jnpw “a royal offering of Anubis,” ḥtp-dj-nswt jn jsjr “a royal offering by Osiris.” Occasionally the name of the god is incorporated directly into the dedication in place of the word nswt, as in ḥtp-dj-jnpw “an offering that Anubis gives.” This alternative can also be combined with the normal dedication: for instance, ḥtp-dj-nswt ḥtp-dj-jnpw “an offering that the king gives and an offering that Anubis gives.”

3)The offerings

The list of gifts included in the ḥtp-dj-nswt can be the most extensive part of the formula. It either follows directly after the agent or is introduced by dj.f (plural dj.sn) “giving,” an adverb clause with the sdm.f, referring to the agent or agents.

There are two basic gifts: burial and offerings. The first is commonly associated with “a royal offering of Anubis” and is usually described as qrst nfrt m z(mj)t jmntt “a good entombment in the western cemetery.” The second, normally “a royal offering of Osiris,” is an “invocation offering,” which the presenter calls the deceased’s spirit to come and partake of: this is described in Egyptian as prt-ḫrw “sending forth the voice.” At its most basic, the offering consists of prt-ḫrw t ḥnqt kw pdw “an invocation offering of bread and beer, cattle and fowl.” Other elements can be added to this, such as the šsr mnḫt “linen and clothing” mentioned in the example cited here. The offerings are often summarized by the phrase ḫt nbt nfrt w bt “every good and pure thing”; this can be further qualified by clauses with relative forms, such as ddt pt qmt t jnnt ḥ pj nḫt ntr jm “that the sky gives, the earth creates, the inundation brings, on which a god lives” in the example above.

4)The beneficiary

The ḥtp-dj-nswt formula ends with the name of the deceased person to whom the “royal offering” is made. This is preceded by the dative n “for” or the fuller expressions n jmḫy “for the worthy,” n k n jmḫy “for the ka of the worthy,” or (as here) n k n “for the ka of.” The deceased’s name is usually followed by the phrase m /mt ḫrw “justified,” sometimes also by the expression nb/nbt jmḫ “possessor of worth.”

The ḥtp-dj-nswt formula is one of the most common of all Middle Egyptian texts, so you should take special care to familiarize yourself with its construction.

ESSAY 22. RELIGIOUS TEXTS

Throughout these lessons, we have seen many forms and constructions of Middle Egyptian grammar qualified with the remarks “found mostly in religious texts” or “limited to religious texts.” Such forms and constructions usually represent holdovers from an earlier stage of the language, which have been replaced by different forms and constructions in other kinds of Middle Egyptian texts. We should not be surprised at this kind of linguistic conservatism in religious texts. The same phenomenon exists in our own culture, which still uses archaic forms such as thou art in hymns and prayers.

Religious texts are a major part of Egyptian literature for a number of reasons, not least because religion itself was an important factor of everyday life (see Essay 4). Secular texts were usually written on papyrus, and most have perished along with the libraries, homes, and offices in which they were stored. Religious texts, however, were often inscribed on more permanent media, such as tomb walls or stone stelae; even those written on papyrus or wood were often deliberately buried, and so have survived in greater numbers than their secular counterparts.

Ancient Egyptian religious texts generally fall into one of two categories: funerary and devotional. The latter includes primarily hymns and prayers, which will be discussed in Essay 23; the former is the subject of the present essay.

Funerary texts are the oldest and most extensively preserved of all ancient Egyptian literary genres. They begin with the Pyramid Texts of the Old Kingdom, a collection of rituals and magical texts first inscribed on the walls of the burial chamber and other rooms and corridors inside royal pyramids of the 5th–6th Dynasties. Egyptologists refer to the individual texts as spells or “utterances” (from the term dd-mdw, with which most of them begin: see § 13.9). Altogether more than eight hundred Pyramid Texts spells are known, ranging in length from a few words to several pages in a modern translation. Despite their great number, they all belong to one of two general categories: rituals and personal texts.

The most important ritual texts are the Offering Ritual and the Resurrection Ritual, always inscribed in the burial chamber. The Offering Ritual began with a series of spells designed to wpt r “open the mouth” of the deceased, so that the spirit could magically recover the senses and physical powers it had during life, before the offerings themselves were presented. After an initial purification by incense and salt water, most of the Offering Ritual consists of texts recited during the presentation of individual offerings. In these the deceased is generally addressed as “Osiris” and the offering itself, which is mentioned at the end of the spell, is referred to as “Horus’s eye.” Such spells are usually quite short, and they often contain a “pun” on the name of the offering itself: for example,

jsjr WNJS m-n.k jrt ḥr nj š .s jr.k | š t 2 (Pyr. 87a)

Osiris Unis, take to you Horus’s eye: it cannot be cut from you. Cut-bread, 2.

The core of the Resurrection Ritual is a series of twelve longer texts, also recited to the deceased by an officiant. Beginning with the words “You have not gone away dead, you have gone away alive,” they were intended to release the ba from its attachment to the mummy so that it could begin its daily cycle of rebirth in the world of the living (see Essay 8).

The remaining spells of the Pyramid Texts line the walls of the other rooms and corridors of the royal tomb. These were mostly meant to be spoken by the deceased’s ba as it made its way through the night toward its rebirth at dawn, and they gave it the magical words and instructions it needed to pass safely through the dangers along its way. Originally composed in the first person, these “personal” spells were usually edited into the third person for each tomb, substituting the name of the deceased for the original first-person pronouns.

Although the Pyramid Texts were inscribed only in royal tombs during the Old Kingdom, the texts themselves were probably used for non-royal burials as well. Scenes from the tombs of officials often show the same kinds of rituals being performed that are reflected in the Pyramid Texts. In place of the Offering Ritual, such tombs regularly have an “offering list,” in which the names of the individual offerings and their amounts are laid out in a series of rectangles. Although the offering spells are not included, these charts show the same offerings mentioned in the Offering Ritual of the Pyramid Texts, and usually in the same order.

During the First Intermediate Period, officials began to have the Resurrection Ritual and some of the personal spells from the Pyramid Texts inscribed on the walls of their own burial chambers and coffins. These older spells are often accompanied by new personal spells of the same type. Because they are most often inscribed on coffins, these newer funerary texts are known as Coffin Texts. There are nearly twelve hundred individual Coffin Texts spells. Most of them are personal spells, in the first person. Like those of the Pyramid Texts, they were meant to give the deceased’s ba the means to pass safely from the tomb to its new life as a spirit. Most of the Coffin Texts are written in an early form of Middle Egyptian, and they give us a good understanding of the beginnings of this stage of the Egyptian language.

The Coffin Texts also contain a new type of funerary text, known as the “Netherworld Guides.” These provide a description of various places in the Duat (see Essay 2), along with the words that the ba needs to pass safely through them. The most elaborate of these guides is known as the Book of Two Ways; it is usually illustrated by a map of the regions described.

During the Second Intermediate Period, the funerary texts began to be separated into several distinct compositions. The most important of these is known as the Book of the Dead. This is a modern name: the ancient Egyptians themselves called it rw nw prt m hrw “Spells of coming forth in the daytime.” Most copies of the Book of the Dead contain a hundred or so spells of the personal type, including some descended from spells of the Pyramid Texts and Coffin Texts. The Book of the Dead was generally written in cursive hieroglyphs (§ 1.9) on papyrus, accompanied by illustrations (called “vignettes”).

The two most important texts of the Book of the Dead were the spells now given the numbers 17 and 125. Spell 17 was entitled prt m hrw “Coming forth in the daytime,” the name it gave to the Book of the Dead as a whole. A descendant of Spell 335 of the Coffin Texts, it deals with the sun-god, Re, and his nightly reunion with Osiris, the principle of new life. This spell was so important that in most copies its clauses and sentences are interspersed with explanatory texts (known as “glosses”) describing what the text means: for example,

I am the great god who evolved by himself.
Who is he? He is Nun, the father of the gods. Another explanation: he is the Sun.

Spell 125 deals with the final judgment, in which the heart of the deceased is weighed against a feather, symbol of Maat (see Essay 8). Judging the weighing are forty-two gods seated on either side of a hall. The central text of the spell is the “Negative Confession,” in which the deceased addresses each of the judges in turn with a specific denial of wrongdoing during life: for example,

Oh, Shadow-Swallower who comes from Qernet: I have not killed people.

The end of the judgment (which is always successful) is a vignette showing the deceased being formally transferred by Horus, king of the living, to the jurisdiction of Osiris, king of the dead.

The Coffin Texts’ Book of Two Ways gave rise to several similar Netherworld Guides, most of which are inscribed in the royal tombs of the New Kingdom and Ramesside Period. These include the composition Egyptologists call the Amduat (from the Egyptian jmj dwt “he who is in the Duat”) and several texts dividing the netherworld into twelve separate sections (for the hours of the night), such as the Book of Gates and the Book of Caverns. Although these first appear in the New Kingdom, they are written in Middle Egyptian.

From the earlier ritual texts is descended the New Kingdom composition known as the Mouth-Opening Ritual. Inscribed mostly in private and royal tombs of the New Kingdom, it contains seventy-five separate “scenes” or “acts,” in which priests “open the mouth” of a statue of the deceased and provide it with various offerings. A number of the texts of this ritual are direct descendants of spells that first appear in the Pyramid Texts.

Besides their tendency to use older grammatical forms, the funerary texts have a number of other features in common. The original Pyramid Texts, some Coffin Texts, and most of the New Kingdom texts other than the Book of the Dead are written in hieroglyphs, either carved or (in the New Kingdom) painted on tomb walls. The Coffin Texts and Book of the Dead were mostly written in cursive hieroglyphs, or sometimes hieratic, on papyrus or wood coffins. All of the funerary texts tend to be written in vertical columns of text rather than in horizontal lines. In some cases these texts are arranged retrograde, meaning that the signs face the end of the text rather than its beginning (see § 1.6).

In some copies of the Pyramid Texts and Coffin Texts, signs of dangerous beings such as snakes were occasionally mutilated to prevent them from harming the occupant of the tomb: for example, the snake is sometimes cut in two During a short time from the end of the 12th Dynasty and into the Second Intermediate Period, this practice was extended to all signs of living beings in copies of the Coffin Texts. Such signs, known as “mutilated hieroglyphs,” show only a part of the whole, usually just the upper portion of the body. The following is an example of such an inscription:

j dbn jmj swḥt.f sd.k wj mj sdt.k tw ds.k (CT VI, 323g)

Oh, Encircled One who is in his egg! May you cause me to cross like your causing you yourself to cross.

Although this practice was short-lived, New Kingdom funerary texts still occasionally “kill” dangerous signs by means of a stroke or a knife (e.g., ).

EXERCISE 22

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (Sin. B 173–74)

2. (Sin. B 145)

3. (Helck, HBT, 23)

4. (Peas. B2, 131–32)

5. (ShS. 156)

6. (Adm. 9, 3–4) —jdr “herd”

7. (Peas. B1, 160)

8. (Helck, HBT, 94) — ḥ n “wait for, expect,” ḥr “in,” t “this (part of)”

9. (CG 20537, 4–5)

10. (Peas. B1, 347)

11. (Westc. 9, 9–10) — shbw a city near Heliopolis

12. (Ebers 102, 2–3)

13. (Petrie, Dendereh 1898, pl. 8C/25B)

14. (Louvre C15, 3) — the first person suffix pronoun of the relative form is unwritten

15. (CT IV, 182n)

16. (Adm. 3, 13)

17. (pBerlin 3029, 1, 5–6) — jrr “one who does”

18. (Peas. R 10, 6)

19. (Peas. R 13, 6)

20. (Peas. B1, 227–28)

21. (Peas. B1, 318) — ḫm “ignorant”

22. (Helck, Djedefhor, 29)

23. (Kagemni 2, 2) — ḫprt “what might happen”

24. (Helck, HBT, 94)

25. (Merikare 11, 8)

26. (Helck, HBT, 22) — ḫprt “what happens”

27. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 71, 1)

28. (ShS. 45–46)

29. (ShS. 124) — sdd “one who relates”; zn passive sdm.f

30. (Westc. 11, 9–10)

31. (Sin. B 261) — n.j dative

32. (Amenemhat 1, 7) — past

33.

(CG 20720, 1–6) — wnn-nfr.(w) “Wenennefer,” an epithet of Osiris meaning “He who exists perfect” (active participle plus stative); the proper names are sbkwnḫt.(w) Sebeknakht (“Sobek is victorious”), mt Mat (“New,” feminine), jnj Ini (meaning uncertain, feminine), and zt-sty(t) Sitsatet (“Daughter of Satis,” feminine); the determinative of the primary beneficiary’s name is written after the phrase identifying his mother.

1 ḥjmt “woman” is also used as the word for “wife,” like German Frau and French femme. The infinitive mn.s means literally, “suffering her(self)”: the verb mn “suffer” is transitive and is normally used with an object denoting the thing causing the suffering or, as in this case, with a reflexive pronominal object.

2 Colloquial English can also omit the relative pronoun in some cases: for example, the place the gods are in or the place the gods are. Egyptian can also do this, as we will see later in this lesson.

3 hn-nḫn “interior of Hierakonpolis” refers to the area of Egypt between Aswan and Thebes.

4 For mn “suffer,” see p. 351 n. 1; r-jb “stomach” means literally “mouth of the heart.”

5 It is also possible to translate the jw.k clause as an unmarked adverb clause: “Don’t kill a man when you know his usefulness.” There is actually no difference between the two in Egyptian, since both would be expressed the same way. In this case, the translation as a relative clause or an adverb clause is a matter of personal interpretation.

6 In New Kingdom texts the ending is sometimes added to the masculine singular, even where no such ending is normally present: for example, mnw pn nfr jrw.n.k (Urk. IV, 202, 8) “this beautiful monument that you have made.” In such writings the –w probably indicates a vowel rather than a formal ending (see Essay 17).

7 In the following discussion, the antecedent is marked by a superscript A and the coreferent by a superscript C, and ø is used for an unexpressed antecedent or coreferent.

8 Literally, “which the messenger of Your Incarnation put me on it,” meaning “assigned me to do.”

9 jsr is a spelling of jsjr “Osiris” peculiar to the Coffin Texts.

10 Better wood coffins were made of cedar planks (the “produce” of cedars) imported from Lebanon.

11 I.e., who has white-bread. For swt see § 5.5; for the sentence construction see § 7.12.4.

12 The relative jr.n.f is masculine because its antecedent is the infinitive (see § 13.8).

13 wsr and ms are participles, discussed in the next lesson. The pronounced form shows the loss of the final r of wsr and the feminine t of m t, and the r of mr has changed to a y (see § 2.8.4).

14 The adjective wr “chief” is written two different ways. The names mean “Sobek is content” (stative), “Become healthy for me!” (imperative), and “Her name is awake” (stative). For m ḫrw “justified” see Essay 8; for nb jmḫ “possessor of worth” see Essay 21.

15 Nubkaure (“Golden one of the sun’s life force”) is the throne name of Amenemhat II (Dyn. 12, ca. 1929–1892 BC); nbw “gold” is transcribed as “Nub” in proper names to distinguish it from nb “lord.”

16 This is the throne name of Haremhab (Dyn. 18, ca. 1316–1302 BC). It means “Sacred one of Re’s evolutions, whom Re has chosen”; dsr is a participle, discussed in the next lesson.

17 The construction jn nswt dj n.j st is discussed in the next lesson.

23.THE ACTIVE PARTICIPLE

23.1Definitions

In the last lesson, we learned how the sdm.f and sdm.n.f can serve as adjectives in an unmarked indirect relative clause, the way some verb forms can do in English. We also learned how the gender and number ending of a defined antecedent is copied onto the sdm.f and sdm.n.f in such clauses, producing what are called the relative sdm.f and sdm.n.f. Most modern languages, including English, do not have such verb forms, which is one reason why they can be somewhat difficult to understand.

The last Middle Egyptian verb forms we have to learn about are the participles. Like the relative forms, these are specifically marked for use as adjectives. Unlike the relative forms, however, their subject is always identical with the antecedent, so the relative clauses they are used in are always direct. Also unlike the relative forms, they have counterparts in English.

There are two English participles, usually known as the present participle (e.g., burning, melting, freezing) and the past participle (e.g., burnt, melted, frozen). Like other adjectives, both of these can be used to modify nouns, as in a burning log and burnt toast. They also can be used to make relative clauses (in which case they usually come after the noun): for example, a log burning in the fireplace, and toast burnt by the cook. Despite their names, the English present and past participles actually express aspects rather than specific tenses: the present participle denotes ongoing action and the past participle refers to completed action. Because they do not express a specific tense, they can be used with reference to any tense: for example, in the sentence Jack extinguished the log burning in the fireplace, the present participle burning refers to an action that was ongoing in the past; similarly, the past participle burnt denotes a completed action that lies in the future in the sentence I’m afraid that the toast the cook will serve will be burnt.

The two English participles also express different voices. The present participle is active, describing an action performed by the noun it modifies: thus, in the phrase a burning log, the noun log is doing the burning. The past participle of intransitive verbs is also active: in a phrase such as a grown boy, the noun boy has done the growing. The past participle of transitive verbs is passive. It describes an action done to the noun it modifies: for example, in the phrase burnt toast, the participle burnt denotes something that has been done to the noun toast.

Middle Egyptian also has two participles, one active and one passive. Like the other verb forms, they are tenseless, and can express past, present, or future action, depending on their context. In this lesson, we will learn about the active participle.

23.2Gender and number

The active participle can be used to modify a preceding noun. Since it is an adjective, it normally agrees with the noun it modifies. Like other Middle Egyptian adjectives, the active participle has three basic forms (§ 6.2), which are marked by means of the usual gender and number endings: for example,

masculine singular | [picture] | z mr “loving son”
masculine plural | [picture] | zw mrw “loving sons”
feminine | [picture] | zt mrt “loving daughter”
| [picture] | zwt mrt “loving daughters.”

Like other adjectives, the participle used with a plural noun can be written with plural strokes, but it is just as often found without them: thus, in addition to the plural forms shown above, we also find writings such as zw mrw “loving sons” and zwt mrt “loving daughters.” Like other adjectives, too, the participle eventually lost all but the masculine singular form, so we can also find writings such as zw mr “loving sons” and zwt mr “loving daughters.”

23.3Basic translations

When the active participle modifies a noun, it can sometimes be translated by an English participle, as in the example zt mrt “loving daughter” from the preceding section, where the Egyptian participle mrt is translated by the English participle “loving.” Because of the differences between Egyptian and English grammar, however, such direct, one-to-one translations are often impossible. In the similar phrase wp(w)tj ḫdd (Sin. B 4) “the messenger who used to go north” for example, the participle ḫdd has to be translated with a relative clause because English does not allow a construction such as *“the used to go north messenger.” Translations with a relative clause are possible because participles are simply concise ways of expressing such clauses in a single word. In fact, many Egyptian participles are best translated as a relative clause.

Like most other Egyptian adjectives, the active participle can also be used by itself as a noun, without modifying a preceding noun (see § 6.4). In this function it usually has to be translated by a relative clause, since English does not normally allow its participles to serve as nouns: for example, mr “the one who loves,” ḫdd “the one who used to go north.” Sometimes an Egyptian participle used as a noun can be translated with a kind of word that grammarians call the “noun of agent.” This is a noun that refers to someone or something that performs an action: for instance, mr “lover.” Egyptian also has nouns of agent: for example, sdmw “hearer.” Such nouns sometimes look like participles that are used as nouns: thus, the word used by itself could either be the participle sdm “one who hears” or the noun of agent sdm(w) “hearer.” In the course of this lesson we will learn ways to distinguish the active participle from other words that are not participles.

Depending on how it is used, therefore, the Egyptian active participle can be translated in three different ways:

by an English participle: z mr “the loving son”

by a relative clause: z mr “the son who loves,” mr “the one who loves”

by a noun of agent: for example, mr “lover.”

In some cases, more than one of these translations is possible: for example, z mr “the loving son” or “the son who loves.” Often, however, the way in which a participle is used allows for only one of the three translations in English, as we will see in the course of this lesson.

23.4Forms

The active participle uses both the base stem and the geminated stem, and the latter is visible in the same classes as for the relative sdm.f (see § 22.13): for example, z mr and z mrr, both of which mean “loving son.” Like the relative sdm.f, participles that display gemination are traditionally called “imperfective,” and those that have the ungeminated stem, “perfective.”

The active participle usually doesn’t have any special endings apart from those that mark gender and number: –t, for the feminine; –w, for the masculine plural; and no ending, for the masculine singular. Sometimes, however, an additional ending can appear:

–j | ms/mpl | with the geminated stem, active or passive: ḫddj (Urk. IV, 85, 14) “that goes north”
–y | ms/mpl | with the geminated stem: msddyw (Leiden V 38 b 3) “who hate”; presumably also, therefore, for verbs that don’t show gemination: sqyw (Ebers 1, 6) “those who introduce” (for *sqqyw).

In general, what this distribution probably indicates is that the active participle had the following basic forms in Middle Egyptian (using the verb jrj “make, do” as a model).¹

| BASE | GEMINATED
ms | jr | jrrj/jrry
mpl | jrw | jrrjw/jrryw
f | jrt | jrrt

All of these stem endings are “weak” consonants (§ 2.8.2). As a result, they are often omitted in writing. When a participle is written without a stem ending it is often impossible to know for certain which form it is: thus, could represent dd, dd(j), or dd(y). For this reason, Egyptologists normally do not supply the missing endings, and transcribe a form such as simply as dd.

Even when they are written, it is important to remember which stem endings are used with which participles. Egyptian nouns of agent can also have the endings –w or –y. In the expression sdyt qs (MuK. 1, 4) “bone-breaker,” for example, the word sdyt (from 2-lit. sd “break”) must be a noun of agent rather than an active participle, since the feminine active participles do not have the stem ending –y.

Sound changes can also affect the way a participle is written, particularly in texts written after the Middle Kingdom. New Kingdom scribes sometimes added the ending (rarely ) to masculine singular participles, probably to indicate that they ended in a vowel (see Essay 17): for example, rdjw (Urk. IV, 506, 3) “who put” (for rdj). In some 3ae-inf. verbs the middle radical became y in pronunciation, and later spellings of such verbs can reflect this sound change: for instance, hyt (Ebers 42, 15) “what has descended” (for ht > hyt). Taken by themselves, these three words could also be verbal nouns, but the constructions they are used in indicate that they are participles, despite their unusual endings.

23.5Forms of the active participle

The following table shows typical examples of the active participle for the various verb classes as they appear in Middle Egyptian texts:

2-lit. | dd (Neferti 24) “who speaks,” rḫyw (Himmelskuh, 20) “who know”; rarely prefixed: j.ḫm (BM 101 c 7) “who does not know”
2ae-gem. | mw (Leb. 79) “who saw”; m (Peas. B1, 247) “who sees”
3-lit. | dr (Peas. B2, 93) “that seeks,” ḥy (Merikare 6, 2) “that fights”
3ae-inf. | prt (Neferti 4) “that emerged”; prrt (Peas. B1, 350) “that emerges,” ḫddj (Urk. IV, 85, 14) “that goes north”
4-lit. | wstn (CT IV, 330b) “broadening,” snsn (CT IV, 183a) “who fraternizes”
4ae-inf. | msd (CT IV, 383e T3Be) “who hates,” ḥmsyw (Himmelskuh, 29) “who sit”; msddw (Beni Hasan I, pl. 8, 4), msddyw (Leiden V 38 b 3) “who hate”
caus. 2-lit. | smn (Himmelskuh, 26) “who fixed,” sqyw (Ebers 1, 6) “those who introduce”
caus. 2ae-gem. | sgnn (Sin. R 79) “who softens”
caus. 3-lit. | sḫpr (Helck, Nilhymnus, 13) “who brings about”
caus. 3ae-inf. | sqd (CT I, 383a M23C) “who sailed”; sqdd (CT I, 382– 383a) “who sails,” (CG 20539 I b 10) sjddy “who quells”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sbq (CT VII, 377c) “who brightened”
anom. | rdj (Peas. B1, 115), (Leiden V 4, 7), dj (Urk. IV, 1094, 17) “who gave, who put”; (Siut I, 310), (Peas. R 18, 6), dd (Peas. B1, 117) “who gives, who used to give”; jj, jy (Helck, Nilhymnus, 4) “who comes”; jwy (CT VI, 370t) “who comes.”

23.6Syntax of the active participle

The active participle can be used like other adjectives, as a single word that either modifies a noun or stands by itself as a noun: i.e.,

zt nfrt “the good daughter” | nfrt “the good one”
zt mrrt “the loving daughter” | mrrt “the loving one.”

Most Egyptian adjectives themselves, in fact, are nothing more than active participles of adjective-verbs: nfr “good, the one who is good,” for example, is the active participle of the verb nfr “become good, be good,” just as the participle mr “wanting, the one who wants” is an active participle of the verb mrj “want.” By this time you are well acquainted with adjectives, so you already know a good deal about how participles work.

Participles, however, are more than simple one-word adjectives. They are also verb forms, and like other verb forms they can be used as the predicate in a clause of their own, with the same kinds of objects and adjuncts that accompany other verb forms. Unlike other kinds of clauses with a verbal predicate, however, participial clauses do not have a separate subject. This is because the participle contains in itself both the verb and its subject. To see how this is so, look at the following two pairs of clauses:

MAIN CLAUSE, ACTIVE | wbn r m pt | “The sun rises in the sky”
PARTICIPLE, ACTIVE | wbnm pt | “he who rises in the sky.”

As these examples illustrate, the only difference between the main clause and the participial clause are the form of the verb and the presence or absence of a separate subject.

The rules of word order that govern other verbal clauses (§§ 13.6, 17.4, 24.6) also govern participial clauses: for example,

dd n.f st (Peas. R 18, 6)

the one who gives it to him (Vdo)

dd n.f jw (Posener, Loyaliste, 83)

the one who gives him praise (VdO)

dd tn ḥr ḥt (Heqanakht I, 9)

the one who puts you on land (VoA)

dd sn.f m t (Adm. 2, 13)

the one who puts his brother in the ground (VOA).

Like other verb forms, participles can also govern dependent clauses of their own, such as noun clauses and adverb clauses: for instance,

dd jr.s bw bjn (Heqanakht I, vo. 14)

the one who makes her do bad

jt(j)w mjwwt wnnyw ḥn.j jst wj m nw (Himmelskuh, 2)

the fathers and mothers who existed with me when I was in the Primeval Waters.

In the first of these two examples, the participle dd governs a noun clause with the sdm.f (§ 21.8): literally, “the one who gives that she do bad.” In the second example, the participial phrase wnnyw ḥn.j “who existed with me” is followed by a marked adverb clause with jst, describing when the action of the participle took place (§ 20.3).

Apart from the fact that they do not have a separate subject, participial clauses can also differ from other kinds of verbal clauses in one other respect: like the relative forms (§ 22.18), when participles are used by themselves, as a noun, they can be modified by the adjective nb “all, each, every, any.” When the participial clause has other elements, such as a dative, object, or prepositional phrase, nb tends to come as close to the participle as possible: for instance,

ḥn jrr nb r.s (L to D, pl. 6, 3–4)

with anyone who acts against her.

This example, with the geminated participle, means literally, “any one-who-acts against her.”

23.7Meaning of the active participle

The active participle merely describes action, without any inherent tense. This means that it can be used to refer to past or perfect, present or gnomic, or future actions: for example,

msw.s … mw ḥr n ḫntj n nḫt.sn (Leb. 78–80)

her children … who saw the face of Khenti before they had lived — (past)

mt mt šdt ḫwt m kkw (CT V, 389g–h)

the lioness who sees and takes things in the dark — (gnomic)

nn yt ḥr n m ḥr.k (Sin. B 278)

The face of the one who will see your face should not blanch — (future).

Because the participles in these examples are translated with a relative clause, English requires us to choose a specific tense. The participles themselves, however, are tenseless, like the English present participle. You can appreciate this by using a different translation, with the English participle instead of a relative clause: “her children … seeing the face of the Butcher before they lived,” “the lioness seeing and taking things in the dark,” “the face of the one seeing your face.”

Although it is essentially tenseless, however, the active participle does tend to be associated with some tenses more than others. The ungeminated form is normally used either for gnomic actions (those that are normally or always true) or for single, onetime past actions: for example,

jr jtj sḫpr btj (Helck, Nilhymnus, 13)

who makes barley, who brings about emmer — (active, gnomic)

jr pt smn [st] (Himmelskuh, 26)

who made the sky, who set it (in place) — (active, past).

The use of the ungeminated form to express single, one-time past actions is the reason why it has been called a “perfective” participle.

The geminated participle can also be used for past, present, or future actions: for example,

jn ḥm.f jrr ḥnwt (Westc. 1, 21)

His Incarnation was the one who used to do the service — (past)

jr n jrr n.k (Peas. B2 108)

Do for the one who does for you — (gnomic)

ms.n.f wj m jrr jrt.n.f (pBerlin 3029 1, 5–6)

He gave me birth as one who would do what he has done — (future).

The geminated stem adds a connotation of repetitive, continual, or normative action that does not exist in the base form (§§ 12.4.2, 18.9), which is why the geminated form is called “imperfective.” Most often, the geminated participle is used with reference to normative action, usually gnomic but also past. In this case, it is regularly translated with the English present tense (e.g., “who does”—not the imperfect “who is doing”), as in the second of the last three examples; or, when referring to past actions, by the English used to construction, as in the first of the last three examples. Sometimes, however, the notion of repetitive action seems to be more important, as in the following example:

nḫt pw grt jr m ḫpš.f …

wf b pw sgnn drwt (Sin. R 76–79)

He is also a forceful one who acts with his forearm …

he is a horn-deflecter who softens (his enemies’) hands.

In this passage, from a hymn in praise of the king, both the ungeminated active participle jr “who acts” and the geminated active participle sgnn “who weakens” refer to customary action. The only difference between them seems to be the fact that the ungeminated form is used with a singular adjunct (m ḫpš.f “with his strong arm”) while the geminated one has a plural object (drwt “hands”). In this case Egyptian apparently thinks of the action of “softening” as being performed on each of the plural objects “hands,” and therefore as repeated. This kind of relationship between the geminated forms and the plural is quite common; a similar relationship exists in the relative sdm.f, as we learned in the last lesson (§ 22.14).

As you can see from these examples, there is a good deal of overlap in meaning between the base and geminated forms, except in reference to past actions. Unless the participle comes from a class that distinguishes the two forms in writing, it is therefore often impossible to know whether a particular form has the base or the geminated stem on the basis of its meaning alone. In some cases, however, the stem can be identified on the basis of a parallel form. Thus, we can be fairly certain that the active participles sḫpr and smn in examples on the preceding page probably have the base stem, since they are parallel to the ungeminated form jr.

As the second-last example in this section demonstrates, however, parallel constructions are not always a reliable guide to identifying the form of a particular participle. Fortunately, whether a participle is geminated or not usually does not make a great deal of difference in translation, since English does not distinguish between these two aspects in the same way that Egyptian does. It is far more important for you to be able to recognize a form as an active participle than to know whether it is has the base or the geminated stem.

23.8The active participle as an adjectival predicate

We have already seen how the active participle can be used as adjectives to modify a preceding noun. Besides this use, it can also serve as an adjectival predicate, like other adjectives (§§ 7.2–3). Only the ungeminated participle appear in this function and, like other adjectives, in the masculine singular form: for instance,

ḥ st jm.f r ntr.sn (Sin. B 66–67)

It is more excited about him than (about) their god — (active).²

Like other adjectives, the active participle can be used in the masculine dual form as an exclamatory adjectival predicate (§ 7.2): for example,

swdw(j) sw r ḥp(j) (CG 20538 II c 12–13)

How much more freshening he is than a high inundation!³

The most common example of this use is the expression (etc.) jjwj “welcome!”—literally, “doubly come” (for an example, see the last sentence in Exercise 18, no. 1).

23.9The active participle as a noun

As we have already seen, the active participle, like other Egyptian adjectives, can be used by itself, as a noun. In this use it is usually translated by an English relative clause: for example,

[picture] | mt “the one who saw, she who saw”
[picture] | m “the one who sees, he who sees.”

As a noun the participle can have a determinative, as in mt “she who sees.” As with the relative forms (§ 22.15), the feminine participle used as a noun is often equivalent to an English neuter. In this use the participle is often written with plural strokes: for instance, “that which might happen, what might happen” (see sentence 23 in the last Exercise).

The participial noun has the same functions as other nouns. It can serve, for instance, as the second noun of an indirect genitive, as the object of a preposition, and as the subject of a verb (examples in § 23.8). It can also be used as the object of a verb: for example,

nj rḫ.n ḫprt ḫt t (Adm. 2, 3)

We don’t know what has happened throughout the land.

Since participles themselves can have objects, participial nouns can even be used as the object of another participle: for example,

qd qd sw ms ms sw (Urk. IV, 2026, 13)

who built the one who built him, who birthed the one who birthed him.

Here the participial phrases qd sw “the one who built him” and ms sw “the one who birthed him” are used as objects of the participles qd “who built” and ms “who birthed.”⁴

Like other nouns, the active participle can also be used as the predicate in a nominal sentence: for example,

swsḫ tšw pw (Sin. B 71)

He is one who broadens (Egypt’s) borders

hsrw dwt pw sr(j)w (Peas. B2, 48–49)

Officials are dispellers of evil

jnk dd nfrt wḥm mrrt (BM 558, 4)

I am one who says what is good and repeats what is loved.

In the first of these examples, the participial phrase swsḫ tšw is the predicate of an A pw nominal sentence; in the second, the participial phrase ḫsrw dwt is the first part of an A pw B sentence. In the third example, the participial phrases dd nfrt and wḥm mrrt are the predicate of an A B sentence.⁵

23.10The participial statement

The active participle is also used as a noun in a special kind of nominal sentence that is known as the “participial statement” (although it is not used just for participles). This has the pattern A B, with the following elements:

Aan independent pronoun (§ 5.5), or

the particle (§ 15.6.2) plus a noun (or noun phrase), or

the particle plus the interrogative pronoun mj (§ 5.11)

Ba masculine singular active participle, or

the sdm.f.

In the participial statement the A part of the sentence is always emphasized. When A is an independent pronoun or jn plus a noun (or noun phrase), this emphasis is usually reflected in English by translations such as “A is the one” or “It is A.” The participle in the B part of the sentence is normally active; always masculine singular, regardless of the gender or number of the element in A; and is normally translated by a relative clause. The following examples show how this works:

jnk jr tn (CT II, 1g)

I am the one who made you (or “It is I who made you”)

jn ntr jrr jqr (Ptahhotep 184 L₂)

The god is the one who makes accomplishment

jn mj r.f jn.f n.j sj (Westc. 9, 6–7)

So, who is the one who will get it for me?

As these examples illustrate, the ungeminated participle is regularly past in this construction, the geminated one is regularly present, and the sdm.f is regularly future. The geminated participle, however, can also be past:

ntf dd n.f st (Peas. B1, 116–17)

He was the one who would give it to him.

The participle is always masculine singular, but the pronominal subject of the sdm.f agrees in gender and number with the A part of the construction:

jn n n wḥw bw šd.sn mr pn tnw rnpt (Urk. IV, 815, 1–2)

The fishermen of Elephantine are the ones who shall dredge this canal every year.

Like other nominal sentences, the participial statement can be negated by means of the negation nj … js (or nn … js: see § 11.5). The two particles bracket the first word in the sentence, which is either an independent pronoun or the particle jn: for example,

m.k nn jnk js jnn n.k st (Westc. 9, 6)

Look, I am not the one who can get it for you

nj jn js r pr m ḥtrw (CT VII, 241k)

The Sun is not the one who escaped from the yoke.

Note that the negation applies to the sentence as a whole (see § 11.7), not to the participial clause. The examples just cited do not mean “I am the one who cannot get it for you” or “The Sun is the one who did not escape from the yoke.” Later in this lesson we will see how Egyptian negates the participial clause itself.

23.11The participial statement versus other kinds of nominal sentences

It is easy to recognize the participial statement when the A part consists of jn plus a noun or jn mj, since no other kind of nominal sentence has this pattern. When A is an independent pronoun, however, the participial statement looks like the regular A B nominal sentence (compare the last example in § 25.10). A sentence such as the following can therefore be understood with two different meanings:

jnk jr pt (Himmelskuh, 26)

I am the one who made the sky.

If it is a participial statement, then it answers the question Who made the sky? and can also be translated as “It is I who made the sky.” But it could also be a regular nominal sentence, answering a question such as Who are you? We have already met this kind of ambivalence in A B sentences where B is a noun rather than a participle (see § 7.12). In both cases, the difference in meaning corresponds to a difference in the predicate of the sentence. In the participial statement, the independent pronoun in A is always the predicate; in the other kind of nominal sentence, B is the predicate. In the written English sentence I am the one who made the sky, there is nothing to indicate which of the two possible meanings is intended. In pronunciation, however, we always mark the predicate with the greatest stress: I am the one who made the sky versus I am the one who made the sky. In the written Egyptian sentence jnk jr pt there is also nothing to show whether it is a participial statement or a regular nominal sentence. In pronunciation, however, Egyptian did the same thing we do: jnk jr pt versus jnk jr pt.⁶

We can’t see the pronunciation, of course, but there are two features that can help us to distinguish the two kinds of A B sentence. In the third person, the participial statement always uses the independent pronoun, as it does in the first and second person: for instance,

ntf djr ḫswt (Sin. R 74)

He is the one who repels foreign countries.

The nominal sentence that is not a participial statement uses the A pw construction, as in the following example, cited in § 23.11, above,

swsḫ tšw pw (Sin. B 71)

He is one who widens the borders (of Egypt).

In the first of these examples, ntf is the predicate (the sentence answers the hypothetical question Who is the one who repels the foreign lands?); in the second, the participial phrase is the predicate (answering the hypothetical question Who is he?). This same distinction between ntf B and A pw is made in nominal sentences where B and A are nouns (§ 7.12).

In the participial statement there is agreement in gender and number between the pronoun in A and any pronouns in B that refer back to it: for example,

jnk jr wj (CT VI, 344c)

I am the one who made me (cited in Essay 13).

Here the dependent pronoun wj “me” refers back to jnk. In the other kind of nominal sentence, however, such pronouns in B are always in the third person: for instance,

jnk jr sw (CT VII, 18u)

I am one who made himself.

In this case, the dependent pronoun sw “himself ” is in the third person. English has a similar rule of agreement, as can be seen in the two translations. Egyptian sentences like the first of these two examples are fairly rare, but the second kind, with thirdperson pronouns, is very common. This feature is a good way of telling when a nominal sentence is not a participial statement.

Egyptian also has another kind of nominal sentence that is similar to the participial statement in meaning. This construction has the pattern A pw B, where A is an independent pronoun and B is an active participle (or participial clause): for example,

jnk pw mdwy n.k (Peas. R 11, 1)

The one who speaks to you is I.

Since it uses pw between A and B, this is not strictly a participial statement; but it has the same effect as the participial statement, by making the independent pronoun the predicate (see § 7.12, under the paragraph numbered 4). The difference between this kind of sentence and the participial statement is the same as that between the two English translations:

jnk mdwy n.k | “I am the one who speaks to you” (participial statement)
jnk pw mdwy n.k | “The one who speaks to you is I.”

The English sentence The one who speaks to you is I is perfectly grammatical and understandable, but this kind of sentence is not very common in English. The same is true of the sentence jnk pw mdwy n.k in Egyptian.

23.12The participles of wnn and p

The verb wnn “exist, be” has an active participle, and it can be used like other active participles (for an example, see § 23.7). It can also be used to allow other verbal constructions to function like participles: for example,

tw fnḫw wnw w.(w) r tkk tšw.j (Urk. IV, 758, 6–7)

the lands of the Fenekhu, who had started to violate my borders.

Here the participle wnw is used as the subject of the stative w.(w), allowing the SUBJECT-stative construction to function as a participle. This expresses a past perfect action “had started,”⁷ in contrast to the normal past meaning of the simple active participle ww “who started.”

The verb p “do in the past,” which we met in Lesson 18, can also be used as an active participle with a following infinitive (see § 18.13): for instance,

sj.n wj mjtn jm p wnn ḥr kmt (Sin. R 50)

The pathfinder there, who had once been in Egypt, recognized me.⁸

In this case, the past perfect could have been expressed by the participial phrase wn ḥr kmt “who had been in Egypt,” with the active participle of wnn as in the previous example, but the use of p adds the extra connotation expressed by the English adverb once in the translation.

23.13The sdmtj.fj

Middle Egyptian has a verb form, called the sdmtj.fj, that acts in many ways like an active participle, though it actually isn’t one. It has three parts: the verb stem, the stem ending –tj, and a set of suffix pronouns that are used to mark gender and number agreement. The stem ending –tj is normally spelled or , less often in plural forms it sometimes appears as where the plural strokes are simply a determinative. In Old Egyptian the stem ending was –wtj rather than –tj for final-weak verbs, verbs with more than three radicals, and causatives; this older ending is still occasionally found in Middle Egyptian.

Like a participle (or adjective), the sdmtj.fj also agrees with the noun it modifies, but it uses a different way of marking that agreement, by means of suffix pronouns rather than the normal gender and number endings:

masculine singular | .f or .fj — written
feminine singular | .s or .sj — written
plural | .sn — written

These are nothing more than the regular third-person suffix pronouns (§ 5.3). The extra ending –j in the singular forms is the same as that which is occasionally added to these pronouns when they are used with dual nouns (§ 5.7). It appears in the sdmtj.fj because this form always has the ending –tj added to the verb stem (which makes it look like a feminine dual); we will see examples below.

The following table shows typical examples of the sdmtj.fj for the various verb classes in Middle Egyptian:

2-lit. | qt(j).sn (Siut I, 225) “who shall enter”
2ae-gem. | mt(j).sn (Siut I, 226) “who shall see,” wnntj.sj (Sin. B 75) “which will be”
3-lit. | sdmtj.sn (Ptahhotep 602) “those who will hear”
3ae-inf. | mkt(j).sn (Siut I, 226) “who shall protect,” hwt(j).f (Siut I, 296) “who shall go down”
4ae-inf. | swt(j).sn (Louvre C5, 3) “who shall pass”
caus. 2-lit. | sḫt(j).fj (Khakh. 6) “one who shall remember”
anom. | (Siut I, 282), rdjt(j).f (Heqanakht III, 8) “who will give”; jwt(j).sn (Sinai 90, 3) “who will come.”

The verb stem is generally the same as that which is used for the sdmt.f (§ 19.13), and these two verb forms are probably related, since the basic meaning of the sdmtj.fj, like the sdmt.f, is that of a relative future (§ 19.16). In fact, the sdmtj.fj is most likely nothing more than a nisbe of the sdmt.f, which is possible because the sdmt.f itself is probably a verbal noun. As a nisbe, the sdmtj.fj is simply an adjectival form of the sdmt.f.

This analysis explains why the sdmtj.fj uses suffix pronouns instead of endings. Even though they are suffixes rather than endings, the pronouns that are used to mark the gender and number of the sdmtj.fj are a normal part of this form. Sometimes, however, the participle appears without a suffix pronoun, just as the verb forms of the suffix conjugation can occasionally be used without an expressed subject. In such cases the stem ending is normally spelled out, as Such forms usually occur when the participle is used by itself, as a noun referring to a general state of affairs rather than to a specific person or thing: for example, ḫprtj (Neferti 18) “what would happen,” ddtj (Neferti 20) “what should be spoken.”

Like the sdmt.f, the sdmtj.fj is associated with action that is yet to happen. This means that the sdmtj.fj is translated in most cases by the future tense in English:

ršy gmḥtj.f wnntj.f ḥr šms nswt (Neferti 69–70)

He who will observe and who will be following the king will rejoice.

Note that wnntj.f is used as the subject of the pseudo-verbal predicate ḥr šms, allowing it to serve as a participle. This construction has the normal imperfect meaning of the pseudo-verbal construction (“will be following”), where šmstj.f would mean simply “who will follow,” like gmḥtj.f “he who will observe.”

Like the sdmt.f, however, the sdmtj.fj is not specifically future. It can also be used to refer to action that has already occurred but had yet to happen at some point in the past: for example,

jw.f mḥj.f ḥr ḫprtj m t (Neferti 17–18)

He cared about what would happen in the land.⁹

Because this sentence comes from a narrative of past events (“he cared”), English requires us to translate ḫprtj (§ 23.7 end) as “what would happen” rather than “what will happen.” In another context this same sentence could be translated “He cares about what will happen in the land.”

23.14The negation of the active participle and the sdmtj.fj

The active participle and the sdmtj.fj are negated by means of the corresponding form of the 2-lit. negative verb tm followed by the negatival complement or, less often, the infinitive: i.e.,

m “who saw” | tm m “who did not see”
m “who sees” | tm m “who does not see”
mtj.f “who will see” | tmtj.f m “who will not see.”

The following sentences show how these constructions work in Middle Egyptian:

tm gm sk m nb mnmn (Adm. 9, 4)

He who could not find a plow-team is (now) the owner of a herd

jr grt fḫt(j).fj sw tmt(j).f ḥ ḥr.f nj z.j js (Sethe, Lesestücke, 84, 15–16)

But as for him who shall lose it, who shall not fight for it, he is not my son.¹⁰

In the first of these examples, tm is an active participle (negative counterpart of gm sk “he who could find a plow-team”). The second sentence shows both affirmative and negative examples of the sdmtj.fj.

23.15A final word about the participles

Participles are the most versatile and widely used of all Egyptian verb forms. Being able to recognize participles is only half the battle: it is also necessary to understand the various ways in which Egyptian uses them. These are often quite different from the ways English uses its participles. Only occasionally can an Egyptian participle be translated directly by one of the two English participles. As you have seen from the examples above, Egyptian often uses a participle where English requires a more complicated relative clause.

At the beginning of this lesson, you learned that participles are concise ways of expressing direct relative clauses in a single word. In fact, participles are the normal way that Middle Egyptian uses to express a direct relative clause that has a verbal predicate. This is one of the major differences between Egyptian and English. Marked relative clauses with ntj plus a verb form—which correspond more closely to the relative clauses of English—are actually fairly uncommon, used only for particular kinds of constructions, and unmarked relative clauses with a verb form are mostly indirect, while participles can be used to modify any kind of antecedent.

Even though an Egyptian participle can sometimes be translated by an English one, you need to be aware that the reverse is often not true. Just as an Egyptian participle often cannot be translated by an English participle, so too English uses its participles in some ways that Egyptian cannot.

Both languages are similar in using their participles as adjectives that modify nouns: for example, wp(w)tj ḫdd “the messenger going north,” where the Egyptian participle ḫdd is translated by the English participle going (which does not, however, express the repetitive connotation of the geminated form). In other cases, though, the English participles correspond to a different kind of verb form in Egyptian. The English present participle is part of the imperfect tenses (He is reading, She was talking), while the past participle is used to make passive verb forms (The ball was thrown). The Egyptian counterparts to these constructions—such as the pseudo-verbal construction and the passive sdm.f—do not involve participles at all. English also uses its participles as the predicate in adverb clauses, while Egyptian uses other verb forms for this purpose: for instance,

gm.n.j sn jr.sn ḥ()bw.sn (CT V, 99b–c)

I found them celebrating their festivals (§ 21.10)

gm.n.f p nḫw wḥ.(w) ḥr pqyt (Westc. 6, 9–10)

He found that fish-pendant set on a sherd (§ 21.7).

In the first of these two sentences, the English present participle celebrating is used to translate the sdm.f jr.sn and in the second, the English past participle set corresponds to the Egyptian stative wḥ.(w). Egyptian could never use its participles this way.

It is important to be aware of these differences between Egyptian and English when you are using existing translations to help you understand the grammar of an Egyptian text (as Egyptologists themselves often do). One way to tell if an English form in a translation corresponds to an Egyptian participle is to replace it by a relative clause: if the replacement makes sense without changing the meaning of the sentence, the Egyptian form is probably a participle; if it does not, it is probably some other form.

ESSAY 23. HYMNS AND POETRY

Besides funerary texts, which were discussed in Essay 22, Middle Egyptian religious literature also consists of devotional texts. Very few of these are prayers. Although the Egyptians certainly prayed to their gods, most of the prayers that have been preserved to us date from the Ramesside Period and later, some composed in Late Egyptian. For Middle Egyptian, the great majority of devotional texts fall into the category that Egyptologists call “hymns.”

The key concepts in this literary genre are the words dw “worship” and jjw “praise,” which often appear in the titles of hymns: for example, dw jsjr (Sethe, Lesestücke, 63, 12) “Worshipping Osiris” and djt jjw n jsjr (Sethe, Lesestücke, 63, 4) “Giving Praise to Osiris.” Although hymns, like prayers, can be addressed directly to a god, unlike prayers they are almost exclusively devoted to praising him (or her); only occasionally do they also beseech the deity for intercession, favors, or blessings.

Hymns are among the most carefully composed of all Egyptian literary forms. They normally consist of short lines arranged conceptually into “thought couplets” (see Essay 18), or sometimes tercets (three lines). The lines themselves are often phrases describing the god being “worshipped” or “praised.” A typical example is the following, from the beginning of the “Hymn to the Inundation,” ascribed to the Middle Kingdom author Khety (the second line of each couplet is indented):

Worshipping the Inundation.

Hail to you, Inundation,

who emerges from the ground and comes to make Blackland live;

hidden of conduct, dark in the daytime,

to whom his followers sing;

who waters the fields that the Sun creates,

in order to make all the flocks live;

who sates the hills that are far from water,

whose dew is what comes from the sky;

whom Geb desires, who manages Nepri,

who makes green the craft of Ptah (Helck, Nilhymnus, 3–8).¹¹

This passage also illustrates another feature of the hymns. Most such compositions are not random collections of eulogies but carefully arranged expositions of Egyptian thought about the nature and significance of the god being “praised.” The authors of such texts usually tried to incorporate into them as many of the different aspects of the god as possible. These aspects are sometimes expounded by means of a play on words that associates a particular characteristic of the god with one of the forms under which he was worshipped. An example is the following, from a hymn to the god Amun:

who made the whole (tmw) land, the creator (sḫpr) who made all that exists,

in this your identity of Atum-Khepri (jtmw-ḫprj) (pCairo 58038 10, 7–11, 1).

Hymns, in fact, are the prime vehicle through which the theologians of ancient Egypt preserved and transmitted their thinking about the nature of the gods and their activity in the world. As such, they are the ancient Egyptian equivalent of the philosophical writings of the Greeks and the theological treatises of medieval scholars. Much of what we know about ancient Egyptian religion and philosophy comes from such texts.

Hymns were also written to honor the king. There is even a papyrus of the Hyksos Period that preserves a set of hymns to the royal crowns and headgear. One of the more important works of Middle Kingdom literature is a series of six short hymns in honor of the pharaoh Senwosret III. This collection begins with the pharaoh’s titulary followed by the words “as he takes possession of the Two Lands in justification,” indicating that the hymns were composed as part of a celebration in honor of the king’s accession.

There is not a great deal of information about how the hymns were actually used. Those composed in honor of a god were presumably recited, or perhaps sung, during temple rituals. The word dw “worship” is possibly related to the noun dww “morning.” If so, hymns with this word in their title may have been recited at dawn, the beginning of the Egyptian day; some sun-hymns, in fact, have specific titles such as dw r ḫft wbn.f m ḫt jbtt nt pt (BD 15A 1 La) “Worshipping the Sun at his rising from the eastern Akhet of the sky.” The titles of other hymns tell us they were meant to be recited at midday or sundown, and there are also some collections with hymns for each hour of the day and night.

The verse structure of Egyptian hymns, with its short lines and couplets, is similar to that of modern poetry. Some hymns even have specific refrains and “choruses,” suggesting that they were recited or sung by alternating performers. Although they qualify as poetry, however, the Egyptian hymns are not poetry of the type found in most English hymns and songs. As far as we can tell, they did not use end-rhymes, and they were usually written down in continuous lines like other texts. A few of the six hymns in honor of Senwosret III, mentioned above, are rare exceptions: their individual lines each occupy a single horizontal line of text, much like the arrangement of modern poems.

Hymns represent just about all we have of Middle Egyptian poetry. The famous Egyptian love poems were composed in the Ramesside Period, and are written in Late Egyptian. A few non-religious Middle Egyptian songs have survived, however, including snatches of workmen’s songs recorded in tomb reliefs. The most famous Middle Egyptian composition of this genre is known as the Harper’s Song. It is preserved in two New Kingdom copies, where it is entitled “The song that is in the mortuary temple of (King) Intef, justified, in front of the singer on the harp”—indicating that the original (now lost) was inscribed on a wall in a royal tomb-complex of the 11th or 17th Dynasty (both of which had kings named Intef), before the picture of a harper. The song itself consists of two verses and a refrain: the first verse describes the ravages of time on monuments and memory, and the second advises listeners to enjoy life while they can; the refrain, with which the song ends, repeats both themes:

Make holiday—don’t weary of it!
Look, there is no one allowed to take his things with him,
and there is no one who goes away who comes back again (pHarris 500 7, 2–3).

Similar, much shorter, songs are found on a few Middle Kingdom stelae, accompanied by the picture of a blind harper (see Fig. 17). These, and the description of the original in the tomb of King Intef, show that the composition was certainly sung to the accompaniment of a harp, but we have no information about the context or occasion in which it was performed.

Fig. 17. Blind harper and singers

(Tomb of Meryre I at Amarna; author’s photo)

EXERCISE 23

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (Merikare 11, 6)

2. (Helck, HBT, 28)

3. (Adm. 9, 4–5) — two clauses, contrasting past and present; ignore the plural strokes after jwtj

4. (Adm. 7, 13–14)

5. (CG 20538 II c 12) — from a hymn in praise of the king

6. (CG 20538 II c 15–16) — from a hymn in praise of the king

7. (Helck, HBT, 93) — not a complete sentence

8. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 13–14)

9. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 70, 24–71, 1) — ḥr ḫw.k “except you”

10. (Peas. B1, 114–15)

11.

(Peas. B1, 246–48) — wšdw “he who is addressed”

12. (Ebers 103, 2–3)

13. (CT I, 312e–f)

14. (ShS. 83– 86) — read (j)n mj: § 7.13.1

15. (Ebers 58, 10–11)

16. (Sin. B 35–36)

17. (Sin. B 62–63) — past

18. (Hatnub 49, 10–11) — fj is an act of homage

1 A slash (e.g., jrrj/jrry) indicates an alternative spelling of the same form.

2 st refers to a town: the plural suffix of ntr.sn “their” refers to the town’s inhabitants.

3 The first bookroll is a determinative of swdwj. It is placed after sw either because of a scribal error or because the phrase swdwj sw was considered as a single word.

4 These phrases refer to a king who made statues of a god. The verbs qd “build” and msj “give birth” are used here with reference to both the king’s birth and the creation of the statues. The god is the king’s father, who “built him” and “birthed him” (qd sw, ms sw), while the king is the one who “built” and “birthed” (qd, ms) the statues.

5 mrrt is a passive participle, discussed in the next lesson. We saw a similar sentence in § 22.15, with the sdm.f instead of a participle. That was a virtual relative clause. In the example here, the participles are actually more like nouns: “I am a sayer of what is good and a repeater of what is loved.”

6 We know this because of Coptic, where the vowels are written. In Egyptian, the two sentences would have been pronounced something like *inák ari-pu’a and *inak ári-pu’a.

7 Not “were starting,” which would be expressed by wnw ḥr wt; wj means literally, “go off” (i.e., “who had gone off”).

8 ḥr kmt means literally “on the blackland” (see Essay 2).

9 The spelling of mḥj “think” is influenced by the nouns mḥ “cubit” (§ 9.7.1) and mḥj “flax.”

10 nj z.j js “he is not my son” is a negated A pw sentence without pw: see § 11.5.

11 The inundation is “hidden” because it is unpredictable; the silt that the inundation carries makes it “dark.” “Dew” reflects the increased humidity that the inundation brings. Geb is the earth, Nepri is the god of grain, and Ptah is the god of minerals and stone: the image behind the final couplet is that of the inundation producing green crops from sandy soil.

24.THE PASSIVE PARTICIPLE

24.1Definition

The passive participle is the passive counterpart of the active participle: e.g., “wanting, he who wants” (active) and “wanted, he who is wanted” (passive). Like the active participle, it can use the geminated stem, in the same classes and for the same reasons: e.g., mrr “beloved, he who is loved” (normally or multiple times). It has the same gender and number endings as the active participle (and other adjectives): for example,

masculine singular | [picture] | z mr “beloved son”
masculine plural | [picture] | zw mrw “beloved sons”
feminine | [picture] | zt mrt “beloved daughter”
| [picture] | zwt mrt “beloved daughters.”

Like the active, too, the passive participle sometimes has an additional ending:

[picture] | ms/mpl | with the geminated stem: dddj (Ptahhotep 557) “said.”
[picture] | all | with the base stem: jryt (Neferti 22) “what has been made,” hby (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 6) “sent.”
[picture] | ms | with both stems: jtw (Sin. B 254) “taken,” jrrw (Peas. R 10, 5) “done.”

In general, what this distribution probably indicates is that the passive participle had the following basic forms in Middle Egyptian (using the verb jrj “make, do” as a model).¹

| BASE | GEMINATED
ms | jrw > jry | jrrw
mpl | jrww > jryw | jrrww > jrrw
f | jrwt > jryt | jrrt

All of these stem endings are “weak” consonants (§ 2.8.2). As a result, they are often omitted in writing. When a participle is written without a stem ending it is often impossible to know for certain which form it is: thus, could represent dd or dd(w). For this reason, Egyptologists normally do not supply the missing endings, and transcribe a form such as simply as dd.

24.2Forms

The following table shows typical examples of the passive participle for the various verb classes as they appear in Middle Egyptian texts:

2-lit. | ddw (Kahun, pl. 13, 24) “said”; dddj (Ptahhotep 557) “said”
2ae-gem. | m (CT II, 381e) “seen”; m (Leb. 103) “seen,” mw (CG 20538 II c 12) “seen”
3-lit. | hb (Hamm. 114, 16) “sent,” njsw (Westc. 8, 11) “the one who has been called,” hby (Sethe, Lesestücke, 79, 6) “sent”
3ae-inf. | ms (Sin. B 276) “born,” jtw (Sin. B 254) “taken,” jry (Sin. R 43) “made”; jrr (Leiden V 4, 12) “that are done,” jrrw (Peas. R 10, 5) “done”
4ae-inf. | w (Sin. B 97) “he who was robbed”; msddt (Ebers 67, 5) “the one who is hated”
caus. 2-lit. | swdt (Sethe, Lesestücke, 82–83) “bequeathed”
caus. 3-lit. | sštw (CT IV, 95a) “secreted”
caus. 4ae-inf. | sḫnty (Siut I, 339) “promoted”
anom. | rdy (Hamm. 43, 6), rdj (Siut I, 233), dy (CG 20089 d 5), dj (Helck, HBT, 82) “given,” dy (Urk. IV, 7, 6) “put”; ddw (Siut I, 302) “put,” ddt (Ebers 56, 18) “what is put.”

The geminated 2-lit. passive participle is a holdover from Old Egyptian and is less common than the ungeminated form. Only a few 4ae-inf. verbs use the geminated stem in the passive participle.

Except for the geminated 2-lit. forms, the active and passive participles very often look alike, and they use the same pattern of base and geminated stems. The stem endings can therefore be an important clue as to whether a particular participle is active or passive. Since the endings themselves are frequently omitted in writing, however, we often have to depend on the context to distinguish passive from active forms.

24.3Syntax of the passive participle

The passive participle can be used like other adjectives, as a single word that either modifies a noun or stands by itself as a noun: i.e.,

zt mryt “the desired daughter” | mryt ”the desired one”
zt mryt “the beloved daughter” | mryt ”the beloved one”

Like the active, the passive participle can be used as the predicate in a clause of its own, with the same kinds of objects and adjuncts that accompany other passive verb forms— for example, the agent marked by jn (§ 8.2.2):

jnyt ḥr s jn nswt (Urk. IV, 664, 17)
what was gotten afterwards by the king.²

It does not have a separate subject, because the participle contains in itself both the verb and its subject. To see how this is so, look at the following two pairs of clauses:

MAIN CLAUSE, PASSIVE | m r m pt | “The sun was seen in the sky”
PARTICIPLE, PASSIVE | m m pt | ”he who was seen in the sky.”

As these examples illustrate, the only difference between the main clause and the participial clause are the form of the verb and the presence or absence of a separate subject.

Like the active, the passive participle can also govern a dependent clause of its own: for instance,

ddw h.f (Smith 8, 16)
which is made to descend,

with the passive participle ddw governing the sdm.f (§ 21.3): literally, “which is given that it descend.” It can also be modified by the adjective nb when used by itself, as a noun: for example, jrrt nbt (Merikare 11, 3) “all that is done”—literally, “every (thing) done.”

24.4Meaning of the passive participle

Like the active, the passive participle merely describes action, without any inherent tense, and can therefore be used for past/perfect, present/gnomic, or future actions:

nswtyw s.t(j) m jrt n.sn (Adm. 9, 1–2)
Royal tenants are satisfied with what is done for them — (gnomic)³

dj.n.f ḥw ḥr jryt dr bḥ (Urk. IV, 2028, 13)
He has given more than what was done previously — (past)

jr ḫsft r ḫsfw n.f (Peas. B1 178)
Do punishment to the one who should be punished — (future).⁴

The geminated participles can also be used for past, present, or future actions: for example,

nfrt nbt jnnt n ḥm n nb.j (TPPI, § 20, 5)
every good thing that was gotten for the incarnation of my lord — (past)

mj jrrt n ntr (ShS. 147)
like that which is done for a god — (gnomic)

rḫ jrrt n ḥbsyt nt zj (Heqanakht II, 42)
What should be done for a man’s wife is known — (future).

Here again, translation with an English participle shows the tenseless nature of these forms: “every good thing gotten for the incarnation of my lord,” “like that done for a god,” “that done for the wife of a man is known.”

The relationship between the geminated stem and the plural that was noted for the active participle in § 23.7 also exists for the passive participle, as well as the relative sdm.f, as can be seen in the following example:

mry n (j)t(j).f ḥzy n mjwt.f mrrw snw.f snwt.f (Urk. I, 197, 6)
beloved of his father, blessed of his mother, whom his brothers and sisters love.

The verb forms mry and ḥzy are passive participles with a following indirect genitive, because the relative sdm.n.f does not have a masculine singular ending y; in the third clause, mrrw is the relative sdm.f.

24.5The passive participle as an adjectival predicate

Like the active, the passive participle can also serve as an adjectival predicate, in the ungeminated and masculine singular form: for instance,

rq sw r ḫnt (ShS. 65)

He was bent forward.

24.6Special uses of the passive participle

Other uses of the passive participle are comparable to those of its active counterpart, with the exception that it is rarely attested in the participial statement. It does, however, have one unique function.

Normally, the passive participle describes action done to someone or something, in Egyptian as in English. This is true both when it is used to modify a preceding noun and when it is used as a nouns by itself: for example,

dwt jryt r.f jn sn.f sth (Ebers 2, 12–13)
the evil done to him by his brother Seth

ḥw ḥr jryt dr bḥ (Urk. IV, 2028, 13)
more than that done previously.

In both of these examples the passive participle jryt refers to an act of “doing” that has been performed on something: on dwt “the evil,” in the first example, and on an unexpressed antecedent, in the second. The English past participle works the same way: in the translations of these examples, the past participle done describes an action that has been performed on each of the antecedents it modifies: “the evil” and “that.”

English also uses the past participle of some verbs in a slightly different way, where the action of the participle is not performed on the antecedent. Compare, for example, the use of the participle given in the following two sentences:

Encouragement given to students helps them learn.

Students given encouragement learn quickly.

In the first sentence, the participle is used in the normal way, to describe an action performed on its antecedent (encouragement). In the second sentence, however, the action of the participle is not performed on the noun it modifies (Students) but on the noun that follows, encouragement. Although it has the same structure as the first example, this sentence is actually a concise way of saying Students to whom encouragement is given learn quickly.

Middle Egyptian can use its passive participle in the same way, and it can do so for all verbs, not just a few as in English. Egyptian also differs from English in requiring a pronoun in the participial clause that refers back to the noun being modified: for instance,

sn jrr ḥn.f ḫpr.(w) m ḫft(j) (Leb. 114–15)
The brother once acted with has become an enemy.

This means, “The brother with whom one used to do things has become an enemy”: literally, “the brother done with him has evolved (3ms stative) as an enemy.” The suffix pronoun of ḥn.f refers back to the noun sn “brother,” which the passive participle jrr modifies.

In this example, the thing on which the action of the participle is performed is not actually mentioned, either in Egyptian or in English. A few English verbs such as give, however, do allow the object of the participle’s action to be expressed: for example, Students taught grammar learn best and The student found fault with soon loses interest, where the nouns grammar and fault express the thing on which the action of the past participles taught and found is performed. These are actually more concise ways of saying Students to whom grammar is taught learn best and The student with whom fault is found soon loses interest, with relative clauses in which the nouns grammar and fault are the subjects of passive verbs.

Middle Egyptian also uses its passive participles in this way. In Egyptian, however, this construction can be used for all transitive verbs, not just a few. Here again, Egyptian requires a pronoun in the participial clause that refers back to the noun being modified: for example,

nj šmsw nb n nb.j nḫ-wd-snb ddw n.f swd jb (Kahun, pl. 35, 28)
like any follower of my lord, lph, to whom communication is given⁵

r(m)t jry nn r gs.sn (Kahun, pl. 13, 1)
the people beside who this was done.

These mean literally, “any follower … given to him a communication” and “the people done this beside them.” The first of these examples could be translated with the past participle in English (“any follower … given a communication”), but the second cannot, even though both are the same construction in Egyptian.

A frequent example of this kind of construction is the expression ddw n.f, feminine ddt n.s, which is used between two proper names to introduce a person’s nickname:

jn-(j)t(j).f ddw n.f jw-snb.(w) (Kahun, pl. 11, 18)
Intef, called Iuseneb

šftw ddt n.s ttj (Kahun, pl. 12, 8)
Sheftu, called Teti.

The literal meaning of the expression A ddw n.f B is “A, said to him B”: thus here, “Intef, said to him Iuseneb” and “Sheftu, said to her Teti.”

Note that each of the four preceding examples has a pronoun in the participial clause that refers back to the noun being modified. Such a pronoun is required even when the participle does not have an expressed antecedent. In this case, the pronoun’s gender and number agree with those of the participle (which, of course, reflects the gender and number of the unexpressed antecedent): for example,

ddw n.f mdt ḥpt (CG 20538 I c 10)
one to who a concealed matter is said

rdyt ntjw r šnj.sn (MuK. 3, 5–6)
those (women) on whose hair myrrh has been put.

These mean literally, “one said to him a concealed matter” (n.f referring to masculine singular ddw) and “those given myrrh to their hair” (r šnj.sn referring to feminine rdyt).

There are only a few exceptions to the rule requiring the participial clause to have a pronoun that refers back to the antecedent. When the pronoun would be the object of the preposition m, it is usually omitted: for instance,

gmḥwt 3 stt tk jm (Siut I, 296)
three wicks with which a lamp is lit,

literally, “three wicks lit a lamp therewith,” with the preposition adverb jm instead of the prepositional phrase jm.s (§ 9.4). Another common exception occurs in phrases such as dj nḫ “given life” and dj nḫ dd ws “given life, stability, and authority,” which are frequently used after the name of the king: for example,

nswt-bjt DSR-K-R dj nḫ dt (Urk. IV, 78, 8)
Dual King Djeserkare, given life forever.⁶

The phrase dj nḫ “given life” was such a common expression that it came to be used as a noun, in the phrase jr.f dj nḫ “so that he (the pharaoh) might achieve ‘given life’,” and so forth. An example is the following caption, which accompanies a scene of the pharaoh presenting myrrh to a god:

(Urk. IV, 92, 9–11)
jr.n.f m mnw.f n jt(j).f jmn-r ḥr(j) dp twj jrt n.f jwnt špst sḥbt twj m nfrw.s jr.f dj nḫ dt

He made as his monument for his father Amun-Re, chief of the Two Lands, the making for him of a special sanctuary that makes the Two Lands festive with its perfection, so that he might achieve given life forever.”⁷

The expression dj nḫ is probably a short form of dj n.f nḫ “to whom life has been given,” with the dative n.f omitted. Note that English “given life” has exactly the same structure.

Passive participial clauses with a following noun look just like clauses with the passive sdm.f, except that the verb form is a passive participle. In fact, it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between the two kinds of clauses: for example,

zt-ḥjmt dd grg r.s (Leb. 98–99)
a woman about whom a lie has been told.

Here the verb form dd is actually the passive sdm.f, used in an unmarked relative clause after an undefined antecedent (§ 22.13). The only thing that distinguishes it from a passive participle is the fact that it does not have the feminine ending –t to agree with the noun it modifies.

You can even think of passive participial clauses such as those in the above examples as main clauses that have been converted to serve as adjectives by changing a passive verb form to the passive participle. Like clauses with the passive sdm.f, they obey the normal rules of word order. The only exception is when the participle is used with a following personal pronoun instead of a noun. In this case the dependent form of the pronoun is normally used: for example,

nj gm.n.s bw jrrw st jm (Westc. 12, 3)
She could not find the place it was done in,

literally, “the place done it therein,” with the dependent pronoun st. The similarity between the two kinds of clauses is so strong, however, that there are sometimes exceptions to the exception, where the passive participle has a suffix pronoun, like a verb form in a main clause: for instance,

m bw pn jny.k jm (BD 52 Nu)
in this place you have been fetched to,

literally, “this place fetched you therein,” where jny.k is used instead of jny tw.

24.7The passive participle of intransitive verbs

The English construction discussed in the preceding section can also occur with the past participle of an intransitive verb, which is not otherwise passive: for example, Decisions arrived at in haste are often regretted. Middle Egyptian has a similar construction, in which intransitive verbs appear in a passive participle, even though such verbs cannot otherwise be made passive: for example,

ntr w nḫw hr sšm.f (Rifeh IV, 56–57)
sole god, under whose guidance one lives

nḫ.f m m(w)tt hr.s (Ptahhotep 581)
He lives on that which one dies from.

These mean literally, “sole god, lived under his guidance” and “He lives on that died under it.” As in the construction with the passive participle of transitive verbs, such participial clauses require a pronoun that refers back to the antecedent, whether the antecedent is expressed, as in the first example, or unexpressed, as in the second. Unlike the transitive construction, such clauses never have a noun (or dependent or suffix pronoun) following the passive participle. As the two examples cited here illustrate, they usually have to be translated by a relative clause with the impersonal pronoun “one” as the subject of the intransitive verb.

Transitive verbs are sometimes used in the same way as intransitive verbs in this construction: for instance,

r pw mw m stwt.f (CG 20538 II c 12)
He is the Sun, by whose rays one sees.

This sentence could also be translated as “He is the sun, seen in his rays.” The context in which it occurs, however (a wisdom text in praise of the king), shows that the verb m “see” is used here intransitively rather than referring to the antecedent r “sun.”

24.8The negation of the passive participle

The passive participle is negated by means of the passive participle of the 2-lit. negative verb tm followed by the negatival complement, or less often, the infinitive: i.e.,

mw “who was seen” | tmw m “who was not seen” (passive)
mw “who is seen” | tmm m or tmw m ”who is not seen” (passive).

The following sentence shows how this works in Middle Egyptian:

jw.j rḫ.kj psdt jnw tmmt bs wr-mw ḥr.s (CT II, 272a)

I know the Ennead of Heliopolis, to which (even) the Greatest of Seers is not introduced. ⁸

In this example, tmmt is a geminated passive participle. Since tm is an intransitive verb, this is the negative counterpart of the intransitive construction discussed in the preceding section.

ESSAY 24. NON-LITERARY TEXTS

Besides the various genres of Egyptian literature that we have discussed in the past five essays, there is also a large body of Middle Egyptian texts that fall outside the realm of pure literature. Where literary texts were composed with an eye to style as well as content, these non-literary documents are generally concerned with content alone. As such, they are often closer to the contemporary spoken language than most literary compositions. Almost all were written on papyri. Some were meant to be preserved as archival or reference documents, but many were undoubtedly written to be temporary records and have survived only through sheer chance.

The largest group of non-literary documents are what we might call “scientific” texts. These are mostly mathematical and medical. Middle Egyptian mathematical texts are represented by four papyri and two wood tablets. Of these, the most important is the Rhind Mathematical Papyrus (Fig. 18), which contains a table of the division of 2 by odd numbers from 3 to 101 and a series of eighty-four problems in arithmetic and plane and solid geometry. The title tells us that the papyrus was copied during the reign of the Hyksos pharaoh Apophis (ca. 1560 BC) “in conformance with a writing of old made in the time of the Dual King Nimaatre” (Amenemhat III of Dyn. 12, ca. 1844–1797 BC). Its contents are typical of those found in the other mathematical texts.

Fig. 18. Problems in geometry from the Rhind Mathematical Papyrus

(Chace, The Rhind Papyrus, Photograph XX)

There are thirteen major Middle Egyptian papyri that deal with medicine. Five of these were written during the Middle Kingdom but are only partially preserved, and the remainder were copied during the New Kingdom and Ramesside Period. The two most important are the Edwin Smith Papyrus and the Ebers Papyrus. The Ebers Papyrus is one of the longest papyri we have from ancient Egypt, with 110 sheets of text over 66 ft. (20 m) long. Its scribe claims that it was copied “as what was found in writing under the feet of Anubis in a shrine and brought to” a king of the First Dynasty. Despite this attribution, the earliest preserved medical texts are all written in Middle Egyptian and were undoubtedly composed after the end of the Old Kingdom.

The medical papyri are mostly concerned with the practical treatment of ailments. Ebers and two others deal with general medicine, and the rest cover specific areas, including trauma, ophthalmology, gynecology, obstetrics, and veterinary medicine. They give instructions for the treatment of specific conditions, along with pharmacological prescriptions. Despite their practical nature, the medical papyri also include magic spells that the physician was to recite as part of the treatment. The Egyptians thought that non-traumatic illnesses were caused by malevolent spirits and needed to be cured not only by practical means but also by driving off the inimical agents. Balancing this approach, however, several of the papyri also contain extended treatises on anatomy and physiology, including a rudimentary description of the circulatory system.

Middle Egyptian “scientific” documents also include astronomical texts. The Egyptians placed great importance on the calculation of astronomical events related to monthly festivals and the beginning of the annual inundation, but only a few of their writings in this area have survived. These are preserved for the most part not on papyri but on the lids of Middle Kingdom coffins and the ceilings of later tombs and mortuary monuments. They record the position, names, and movement of stars and planets, and include many of the constellations that we recognize today.

Other non-literary texts are represented primarily by administrative documents, legal texts, and letters. The last will be discussed in Essay 25. The category of administrative documents covers a wide variety of texts, including accounts. Some of the more interesting are a series of 12th-Dynasty records from the fortresses in northern Nubia, unfortunately preserved only in fragments, which detail the daily movement of traffic and trade; and the Reisner Papyri, a group of four early Middle Kingdom papyri from the site of Nag ed-Deir, north of Thebes, containing records of personnel and labor connected with a building project and dockyard.

Legal documents are the least well represented of all genres of Middle Egyptian texts. From the Middle Kingdom we have a few private wills, written on papyrus. There is also a unique legal text, known as the Karnak Juridical Stela, that was inscribed during the reign of the pharaoh Nebirierau of Dynasty 17 (ca. 1600 BC). This describes a lawsuit over the right of succession to the mayoralty of the town of el-Kab, south of Thebes, and was erected in the temple of Karnak to publicize and preserve the decision in the case. There are many such legal texts from later periods of Egyptian history, including a series of papyri recording the investigation and trial of tomb robberies, but these are written in Late Egyptian and Demotic. The Karnak Juridical Stela is one of the few such records to survive from earlier eras of Egyptian history.

EXERCISE 24

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (Sin. B 16–17) — jnbw ḥq “The Ruler’s Walls,” name of a fortress in the northern Sinai

2. (Sin. B 304) — not a complete sentence; r “in”

3. (Ptahhotep 58)

4. (Ptahhotep 187) — instruction to a messenger

5. (Ptahhotep 282)

6. (Ptahhotep 310) — a metaphor for greed

7. (Ptahhotep 353) — advice about avoiding gossip

8. (Ptahhotep 554) — this sentence has two active participles and one passive participle

9. (Ptahhotep 557)

10. (Heqanakht II, 28) — nj for nn; p “such”

11. (Amduat III, 15)

12. (Leiden V 88, 10–11) — first-person subjects

13. (Sin. B 309)

14. (Westc. 8, 11)

15. (Sethe, Lesestücke, 76, 23) — past

16. (TPPI § 20, 5) — not a complete sentence

17. (Neferti 22) — statement made as a prophecy (future)

18. (Khakh. 2) — said by a man looking for something new to say; see §§ 10.4.4, 10.7, and 15.6.12

19. (Khakh. 3) — past

20. (Urk. IV, 1091, 3) — advice to an official; the sentence makes best sense if you supply “only” in the translation; see §§ 8.2.10 end, 18.8, and 24.7

1 The symbol > indicates the evolution (usually, historical) of one form from another: thus, jrw > jry means that jrw has become jry. The 2-lit. geminated passive participle (e.g., dddj) is the only passive form with the ending –j.

2 The t of jnyt is “tucked” between the two reed-leaves; ḥr s is a adverbial use of the prepositional phrase “upon the back.”

3 nswtyw is a plural nisbe from the noun nswt “king,” and refers to the tenant farmers of royal lands. The 3fs stative s.t(j) shows that it is understood here as a collective.

4 Literally, “the one punished to him.”

5 The expression swd jb “communication” means literally “making sound the heart”: see Essay 25.

6 Djeserkare is the throne name of the pharaoh Amenhotep I of Dyn. 18 (ca. 1525–1504 BC).

7 ḥrj-dp “chief” is literally “he who is over the head” (nisbe); sḥbt is an active participle. For jr.f “so that he might achieve” (literally, “make”), see § 20.13.

8 For rḫ.kj see § 16.2, and for psdt “Ennead,” Essay 12. wr-mw “Greatest of Seers” was the title of the high priest of Heliopolis. The verb bs “introduce” uses the preposition ḥr “upon” rather than “to” as in English.

25EMPHATIC SENTENCES

25.1Definitions

The last sentence in Exercise 24 is an example of a special kind of sentence that Egyptologists call “emphatic.” Like a regular sentence, it has a subject (.k “you”) and predicate (d “should get angry”) as well as a prepositional adjunct (ḥr dt ḥr.s “about something to get angry about”). But the purpose of the sentence is to tell the official not that he should get angry but what he should get angry about—in other words, the important thing in the sentence is not the predicate but the prepositional adjunct. This is why the extra word “only” makes sense in the translation: it emphasizes what is important.

Normally, the subject of a sentence (or clause) is what is being talked about, and the predicate is what is said about the subject. Everything else in the sentence or clause is secondary to these two main pieces of information; grammarians group such “extra” elements under the general heading of “adjuncts.” In the English sentence Jill likes to sing in the shower, for example, the noun Jill is the subject (the thing being talked about), the verb phrase likes to sing is the predicate (that which is said about Jill), and the prepositional phrase in the shower is an adverbial adjunct (telling where Jill likes to sing).

These definitions of subject and predicate are normally true, but they are not necessarily true for every sentence. Normally, English uses a sentence such as Jill likes to sing in the shower to tell what Jill does. But the same sentence can also be used in a different way, to tell where Jill likes to sing. Even though the written sentence remains the same, we recognize these two different meanings by two different patterns of intonation in the spoken language. When the sentence is used in the normal way, to tell what Jill does, the three main elements—subject, predicate, and adverbial adjunct—each receive approximately equal emphasis: JILL likes to SING in the SHOWER. When the sentence is used to tell where Jill likes to sing, however, the adverbial adjunct receives much greater emphasis than the other parts: Jill likes to sing IN THE SHOWER.

This difference in spoken emphasis corresponds to a difference in the information conveyed by the sentence. In the normal pattern, the sentence tells us something about Jill. In the other pattern, however, the sentence tells us something about the statement Jill likes to sing. The two patterns also correspond to different kinds of questions. The normal speech pattern answers a question such as “What does Jill like to do?”; the other pattern answers the question “Where does Jill like to sing?” Although we can’t hear the speech pattern of the Egyptian sentence in Exercise 24, its information structure is the same: it answers the hypothetical question “What should I get angry about?” and not “What should I do?”

25.2Theme and rheme

In terms of the information it conveys, a sentence or clause has two main parts, which can be called the theme and the rheme. The theme is what is being talked about, and the rheme is what is said about the theme. These terms also correspond to the notions of given and new information: the theme is always given information, something that has already been mentioned or that is taken as given; the rheme is always new information, something additional that is said about the theme. In the normal meaning of our English example, Jill is the theme and the rest of the sentence is the rheme. In the second meaning, however, Jill likes to sing is the theme and the adverbial adjunct in the shower is the rheme: that Jill likes to sing is a given; the new information the sentence tells us is where she likes to sing.

The reason that a sentence such as Jill likes to sing in the shower can have two different meanings (that is, can answer two different questions) is that the theme and rheme of a sentence are not necessarily the same as its subject and predicate. In a normal sentence, the two sets of terms do coincide: thus, in the normal meaning of our English example, Jill is both the theme and the subject, and the rheme likes to sing in the shower contains both the predicate and an adverbial adjunct. But this relationship is not true for every sentence. In the second meaning of our example, the theme is the statement Jill likes to sing, which contains both the subject and the predicate of the sentence, and the rheme is the adverbial adjunct in the shower. So also for our Egyptian example: d.k “you should get angry,” which contains both the subject and predicate, is the theme, and the adverbial adjunct ḥr dt ḥr.s “about something to get angry about” is the rheme.

It is essential to keep this difference in mind. The terms “subject,” “predicate,” and “adjunct” refer to syntactic functions—to the way in which a clause or sentence is put together. These remain the same no matter what kind of information the clause or sentence is meant to convey. The terms “theme” and “rheme” refer to the sentence information. They can be different parts of a clause or sentence, depending on its meaning. An emphatic sentence is one in which the rheme is not the predicate. Middle Egyptian has several kinds of such sentences.

25.3Cleft sentences

Although the two possible meanings of Jill likes to sing in the shower are distinguished in speech by two different patterns of intonation, in writing both sentences look the same—only the context in which they occur tells us which meaning is intended. English does have a special construction for the second meaning, called the “cleft sentence.” This is an emphatic sentence in which the rheme is separated from the rest of the sentence and put in front by various means, such as Where Jill likes to sing is in the shower or It is in the shower that Jill likes to sing.

Middle Egyptian also has cleft sentences, but their use is very restricted. The most common kind is the “participial statement” we learned about in Lesson 23 (§ 23.10). This is used only when the subject is the rheme: jn ntr jrr jqr “The god is the one who makes accomplaishment,” and ntf dd n.f st “He was the one who would give it to him,” where the subjects ntr and ntf are the rheme and the predicates jrr jqr and dd n.f st are the theme. As we saw, the same construction is used to mark the rhematic subject of a sdm.f: jn n n wḥw bw šd.sn mr pn “The fishermen of Elephantine are the ones who shall dredge this canal,” where the subject n n wḥw bw is the rheme and the predicate šd.sn mr pn is the theme (with coreferential suffix pronoun). In each of these sentences, the predicate is given information and the subject is the new information: the sentences are about who performs the action rather than about the action itself.

Middle Egyptian does not normally use this “cleft” construction for other empharic sentences; instead, it relies on context to distinguish them from their non-emphatic counterparts. There is a good example of this in the stories of Papyrus Westcar (Essay 20), where the same sentence, m.k wj jj.kw “look, I have come,” appears twice:

njs r.j
m.k wj jj.kw (Westc. 8, 12)
I have been summoned:¹
look, I have come.

jmj sspd.tw t šzpt ntt m p šj
m.k wj jj.kw r ḥmst jm.s (Westc. 3, 6–8)
Have the pavilion that is in the garden made ready:
look, I have come to sit in it.

In the first example, the sentence is a normal one, in which the predicate jj.kw “I have come” is the rheme: it tells what the subject has done. In the second, however, the speaker is clearly not just telling the listener that “I have come” but why: the important part of the sentence is the adverbial adjunct r ḥmst jm.s “to sit in it.” In this case, the subject and predicate jj.kw together are the theme, the given in the sentence. The new information, the rheme, is the adverbial adjunct. Although this is syntactically a normal sentence, the context identifies it as emphatic.

25.4Kinds of emphatic sentences

There are five kinds of emphatic sentences (or clauses) with a verbal predicate in Middle Egyptian, which we will discuss in the five following sections. In each of these the initial predicate is either the sdm.f or the sdm.n.f, and the important part of the sentence—the emphasized element, or rheme—is something other than this predicate. For that reason, they can all be understood as different kinds of emphatic sentences.

Apart from context, there are a number of clues that can help you recognize emphatic sentences. These will be summarized at the end of this lesson. One of the most important, however, can be mentioned now: they can use the geminated form of the sdm.f that also appears in unmarked noun clauses and the relative sdm.f (§§ 21.6, 22.13).

25.5Adjunct questions

In any adjunct question (§ 17.12), the interrogative word is always the rheme. This is because such words always ask for new information; everything else in the sentence is a given, part of the theme. In the English sentence Where did Jack go?, for example, the fact that Jack went somewhere is taken as given: what the speaker or writer wants to know is where he went. The theme in this sentence is did Jack go, which contains both the subject (Jack) and the predicate (did go); the rheme is the adverbial interrogative where.

Sentences with an adverbial interrogative are the easiest of all emphatic sentences to recognize: for example,

jr.tw nn mj mj (Sin. B 202)
How was this done?

dd.tn n.f ḥr mj (Adm. 5, 9)
Why do you give to him?

ḥ.n wšd.n.j n n mdyw r dd

j.n.tn tn(j) (JEA 31, pl. 3A, 13–14)

Then I questioned those Medjay, saying,
“Where have you come (from)?”²

The first of these examples has a sdm.f as predicate, with the interrogative prepositional phrase mj mj “how” (literally, “like what?”) (see §§ 5.11, 8.13). In the second, the geminated sdm.f dd.tn is used with the interrogative prepositional phrase ḥr mj “why?” (literally, “on account of what?”). The third example has a sdm.n.f with the interrogative adverb tnj “where (from)?” (§ 8.13). In each case, the interrogative is the rheme of the sentence and the subject and predicate together are the theme.

25.6Sentences with rhematic prepositional phrases or adverbs

Just like the interrogative words in questions, other kinds of prepositional phrases and adverbs can be the rheme in a declarative sentence: for example,

ntk ḥmw n t r dr.f
sqdd t ḫft wd.k (Peas. B1, 298–99)
You are the rudder of the entire land:
the land sails according as you command — or
it is according as you command that the land sails.

In the second clause (or sentence) of this example, the rheme is the prepositional phrase ḫft wd.k “according as you command” (§ 25.3.1). That “the land sails”³ is a given here: what is important is that it does so “as you command.” Such emphatic sentences can sometimes be recognized by the form of the verb: in this example, for instance, the geminated form sqdd is a good clue, since the sdm.f of 4ae-inf. verbs such as sqdj “sail” does not normally show the geminated stem.

Context can sometimes be a good indication that the predicate is not the rheme. The question in the last example of § 25.5 is followed by an answer:

ḥ.n dd.n.sn j.n.n ḥr hnmt jbhyt (JEA 31, pl. 3A, 14)

Then they said, “We have come from the well of Ibhyt” — or

Then they said,“It is from the well of Ibhyt that we have come.”⁴

As in the corresponding question, the fact that “we have come” is a given: what is important in the sentences is where “we have come” from. Often, however, only the sentence itself is a clue: for example,

ḥtp n.j nswt n kmt nḫ.j m ḥtpwt.f (Sin. B 165)

May the king of Egypt be gracious to me, for I live by his grace — or

May the king of Egypt be gracious to me, for it is by his grace that I live.

In this case, the important part of the second clause is the prepositional phrase m ḥtpwt.f “by his grace,” which reflects the verb ḥtp “be gracious” of the first clause: the sentence is not just a statement that nḫ.j “I live,” but one describing how “I live.”

25.7Sentences with rhematic adverb clauses

Since entire clauses can have adverbial function in a sentence, they can also be the rheme of a sentence: for example,

jw dj.n tw ḥm.j r smr jw.k m ḥwn n rnpt 26
jr.n ḥm.j nw m.n.j tw m jqr sḫr (Sethe, Lesestücke, 70, 22–23)

My Incarnation has given you to (be) a courtier, though you are a lad of 26 years.

My Incarnation has done this because I have seen you as one excellent of advice.

This passage illustrates the difference in meaning between regular and emphatic sentences. The syntax of both of its sentences is similar, consisting of a main clause followed by an adverb clause (for the adverb clauses, see §§ 20.7 and 20.10). The first sentence tells what the king did: the new information is given by the predicate of the main clause (dj.n), which is therefore the rheme. In the second sentence, however, the main clause does not report new information: the fact that the king “has done this” is a given, since it has already been reported by the preceding sentence. Here the sentence rheme, the new information, is the adverb clause, which tells why the king acted. Even though their syntax is similar, therefore, the two sentences have quite different meanings.

The second sentence in this example can also be translated with an English cleft sentence: “It is because I have seen you as one who is excellent of advice that My Incarnation has done this.” You can often use this English construction to test whether an Egyptian sentence is emphatic or not, because it only makes sense when the adverb clause (or adverbial adjunct) is the rheme—as you can see by trying it with the first sentence of the example (*“It is though/while/as you are a youth of 26 years that My Incarnation has given you to (be) a courtier”).

In the second sentence of this example, the main clause jr.n ḥm.j nw “My Incarnation has done this” does not add any new information. Sometimes, however, both the main clause and the adverb clause of an emphatic sentence convey new information: for example,

dd.tn p qw n r(m)t.j jw.sn ḥr jrt kt (Heqanakht II, 29–30)

You should give that salary to my people (only) when they are doing work — or

It is (only) when they are doing work that you should give that salary to my people.

In this case the speaker is instructing his listeners both to “give that salary to my people” and to do this “(only) when they are doing work” (§ 20.7). The emphatic construction here serves as a way to prioritize the information in the sentence, indicating that the adverb clause is more important than the predicate of the main clause. This is the reverse of a normal sentence, where the main clause is more important.

25.8Sentences with initial subordinate clauses

Emphatic sentences such as those discussed in the last section contain two clauses: a main clause with the sdm.f or sdm.n.f, and an adverb clause that is really the rheme of the sentence. Syntactically, the main clause comes first and the dependent clause second, which is the normal order in an Egyptian sentence. Because the main clause is less important than the dependent clause that follows it, we can reflect this order in our English translation by making the main clause a dependent one and the subordinate clause that is the rheme, the main clause. There are three cases where this makes for a good translation.

1)Initial concessions or conditions

Middle Egyptian normally uses the construction with initial jr plus the sdm.f to express the first clause (the protasis) of a conditional sentence (§ 18.12). The emphatic sentence can also express a condition but is more often used for an initial concession:

jw r jwd.f [sw r] r(m)t
wbn.f wn wnwt nn rḫ.tw ḫpr mtrt (Neferti 51–52)

The Sun will separate himself from people:

although he rises when it is time, no one will know that noon happens.⁵

These two sentences are part of Neferti’s prediction of disastrous times (see Essay 19). Here wbn.f wn wnwt cannot be a simple statement that the sun rises, since that would hardly qualify as a disaster. What is important is the fact that no one will be able to tell that this has happened (because “the Sun is separating himself from people”).

This is an emphatic sentence in which the first two clauses, wbn.f wn wnwt, serve as the theme and the third clause, nn rḫ.tw ḫpr mtrt, as the rheme. Besides the translation with “although,” we can express the relationship by inserting “but” before the last clause: “he rises when it is time, but no one will know when noon happens.” These are requirements of English; Egyptian just expresses the three actions (“he rises,” “the time is,” and “one does not know noon happens”) and relies on the context for the relationship between them. English can sometimes do the same: “You do that, you’ll be sorry.”

Initial concessions in English are also expressed by “As.” This translation makes better sense than “If ” or “Although” for some emphatic sentences:

mrr.k mn.j snb.kw sjhm.k sw (Peas. R 17, 6–7)

As you love to see me healthy, you should delay him here.

Here the clause sjhm.k sw “you should delay him here” is the rheme, even though it is syntactically dependent. The sense of the sentence itself indicates that the first clause is not a separate statement (“you love to see me healthy”) but rather is understood as given: in other words, “(given that) you wish to see me healthy, (then) you should delay him here.” This is what is going on in the sentence discussed in § 18.12, with an initial sdm.f:

mr.tn nḫ msd.tn ḫpt jw.tn r drp n.j (CG 20003 a 1–3)
As you want to live and you hate to pass on, you are to offer to me.

Note that the first example has the geminated sdm.f and the second, the ungeminated one. If the second one is truly ungeminated (i.e., representing *miriátun and not *mirriátun), the difference is between a single act of wanting (mr.tn)—as well as hating (msd.tn)—and an extended one (mrr.k), or just between unmarked forms and marked ones (see § 22.14). In the next example, however, both forms are used together:

mr.tn nḫ msdd.t(n) m(wt) …
dd.tn t ḥnqt kw pdw ḥtpw dfw n nb b() pn (Sethe, Lesestücke, 80, 4–7)

As you love to live and hate to die …

you should say, “Bread, beer, cattle, fowl, and offerings of food for this offeringstone’s owner!”

Since mr.tn nḫ and msdd.t(n) m(wt) are synonymous, it is unlikely that the first refers only to a single act and the second, to an extended one. Instead, here either is unmarked or it represents the geminated form mrr.tn.

2)Oaths

In Egyptian, oaths are a special kind of sentence with an initial concession. In this construction, the initial clause consists of the sdm.f of wḥ “endure” or nḫ “live,” with the name of a god or the king as its subject, translated as “As X endures” or “As X lives,” followed by a second clause: for example,

wḥ jmn qn nn wḥ.j tw (Helck, HBT, 92)

As Amun the brave endures, I will not let you be!⁶

nḫ n.j Z(J)-N-WSRT dd.j m mt (Hatnub 49, 5)

As Senwosret lives for me, I speak in truth.⁷

In such sentences the statement of the main clause is always a given: it is obvious, for example, that “Amun the brave endures” and that “Senwosret lives for me.” The clause that follows this initial statement is the important one. In the first example, it contains a negated sdm.f (§ 18.14). In the second example, the second clause is itself an emphatic construction, since its important part is the prepositional phrase m mt and not the predicate dd.j: “it is in truth that I speak”—i.e., “I am telling the truth.”

3)Initial adverb clause

In Egyptian, unmarked adverb clauses always follow the main clause (§ 20.6). The emphatic construction, however, can be used as a way of expressing an unmarked adverb clause at the beginning of a sentence: for example,

zpp zj m ḫt mjnt rdjw zpw.f r gs.f m ḥw (Merikare 5, 9–10)

When a man survives after mooring (dying), his deeds are put beside him in heaps.

We have already met this sentence in Lesson 19 (§ 19.6). Its second clause, with the passive rdjw, describes what happens to a man after death. The initial clause is not meant to state that a man survives after death (which was obvious to the Egyptians) but to indicate when the second clause is true. It is therefore adverbial in meaning, even though syntactically it is the main clause. We can also express this relationship, though less accurately, by a translation that better reflects what is going on in Egyptian: “A man survives after dying and his deeds are put beside him in heaps.”

This kind of initial clause is especially common with the expression ḥd t “the land becomes bright,” which is an Egyptian idiom for “at dawn”: for instance,

ḥd.n t pḥ.n.j ptn (Sin. B 20)

At dawn I reached Peten.

This means literally, “The land became bright and I reached Peten,” but the sentence is intended to inform the reader what happened at dawn, not that dawn happened. In effect, therefore, the initial clause is adverbial.

When the sdm.f and sdm.n.f are used to express an initial adverb clause they have the same meaning that they have in unmarked adverb clauses: the sdm.f expresses concomitant action (§ 20.11) and the sdm.n.f denotes prior circumstance (§ 20.10). Thus, in the two examples just cited, the action of zpp zj “a man survives” is concomitant with that of the main clause rdjw zpw.f “his deeds are placed,” and ḥd.n t “the land became bright” expresses an action that happened before that of the main clause pḥ.n.j ptn “I reached Peten.”

25.9Balanced sentences

The emphatic sentences in the preceding section all have an initial main clause followed by a dependent clause. Middle Egyptian also has emphatic sentences consisting of two main clauses. Egyptologists call these balanced sentences. Syntactically they look like balanced A B nominal sentences (§ 7.7.2), but with two clauses instead of two nouns: for example,

prr.tn r pt m nrwt prr.j ḥr dpt dnḥw.tn (CT III, 21f–g)

You go up to the sky as vultures and I go up on the top of your wings.

In this example both clauses have the geminated form prr as predicate, with two different subjects and adjuncts.

In the sentences discussed in § 25.8, the initial clause is subordinate in meaning to the second clause. In the balanced sentence, however, the two clauses are mutually dependent. In the example just cited, the two clauses together make up a sentence in which the action of the first clause is dependent on that of the second, and vice versa. We can express this interdependence in English not only by a neutral translation such as that given above but also by making one or the other of the two clauses a dependent clause: for example, “Whenever you go up to the sky as vultures, I go up on the top of your wings” or “You go up to the sky as vultures only when I go up on the top of your wings.”

The example just cited has two geminated sdm.f forms. Balanced sentences can also use the ungeminated form:

pr.f r pt pr.j ds.j ḥn.f r pt (CT VI, 338c–d)

He goes to the sky and I myself go with him to the sky.

This example simply expresses the interrelationship of the two clauses; in the previous one, the geminated stem denotes multiple actions (“whenever”).

In balanced sentences the verb form in both clauses must be the same, though not necessarily of the same verb: for example,

ḫdd.k dd.tw n.k z t (Naville, DB IV, pl. 114)

You go downstream and homage is given to you — or

Whenever you go downstream, homage is given to you.⁸

Each clause here has the geminated sdm.f of a different verb. This is not the same as in the first example of § 25.8.3: there the predicate rdjw in the second clause is the passive sdm.f rather than a geminated nominal form like zpp in the first clause, so that is not a balanced sentence. The verb form must also be the rheme in each clause of a balanced sentence. For this reason, the last example in § 25.8.2 is not a balanced sentence, since the sdm.f in the second clause is not the rheme.

Balanced sentences are not limited to the sdm.f. They can also be made with the sdm.n.f: for example,

pr.n.sn r pt m bjkw pr.n.j ḥr dnḥwj.sn (CT III, 115g–h)

They have gone up to the sky as falcons and I have gone up on their wings.

When the two clauses have the sdm.n.f of different verbs, there is no difference between the balanced sentence and the one discussed in § 25.8.3:

hm.n.f wj st.n.j sw (Sin. B 137–38)

He charged me and I shot him (balanced sentence) — or

When he charged me, I shot him (emphatic sentence).

In terms of translation, of course, either analysis of this example makes sense. That’s because the difference exists only in English. In Egyptian, both the balanced sentence and the emphatic one simply consist of two clauses with the sdm.n.f.

25.10The subordination of emphatic sentences

Like most other kinds of Egyptian sentences, emphatic sentences can be used not only as independent statements but also as noun clauses or adverb clauses. Unlike other kinds of sentences, however, the emphatic constructions do not seem to occur as relative clauses, either marked or unmarked.

An emphatic sentence can be subordinated as an unmarked noun clause, just by virtue of the context in which it is used: for example,

wn.jn sḫtj pn snd.(w)
jb.f jrr.t(w) r ḫsf n.f ḥr mdt tn ddt.n.f (Peas. B2, 117–18)

So, this peasant was afraid,

thinking it was done in order to punish him for this speech he had said.⁹

At first glance, jrr.t(w) “it was done” (referring to an action mentioned in a previous sentence) might appear to be the object of jb.f (§ 21.7) in this example. In the noun clause, however, the rheme is the prepositional phrase r ḫsf n.f “in order to punish him” and not the verb jrr.t(w): the farmer was not afraid because he thought “it was done” but because he thought “it was done in order to punish him.” The object of jb.f is therefore an emphatic sentence serving as an unmarked noun clause.

This kind of unmarked subordination of an emphatic sentence is not common. Such sentences usually require a word of some sort to show that they are being used as a dependent clause. Emphatic sentences can be subordinated in marked noun clauses by means of ntt or wnt “that,” which are used to subordinate other kinds of sentences in a noun clause (§ 21.4):

dd.(j) rḫ.k r ntt ḫpr prt spdt m 4 prt 16 (Sethe, Lesestücke, 96, 23–97, 1)

I speak so that you may learn that Sothis’s emergence will occur on 4 Growing 16.

In the noun clause introduced here by r ntt (literally, “with respect to the fact that”), the rheme is clearly the prepositional phrase reporting when the Sothic rising (see Essay 9) will take place and not the fact that the rising will occur (which is a given). The clause after r ntt is therefore an emphatic sentence used in a marked noun clause.

Most often, emphatic sentences are subordinated by means of the enclitic particle js (§ 16.7.3), placed after the verb form. Emphatic sentences marked by js can serve both as noun clauses and as adverb clauses (see §§ 21.3 and 20.5): for instance,

dd.sn n r dsr r(m)n m jbt pr.n.k js m ntr (CT I, 278d–f)

They say to the Sun, who lifts his arm in the east, that you have emerged as a god

nd jdr.f jr.n.f js hrw r nw st (Adm. 12, 1)

His herd is small, but he has spent the day to gather it.

In the first of these examples, js subordinates an emphatic sentence as the object of dd.sn “they say.” The important part of the clause is not the statement that the listener has emerged but the prepositional phrase describing how he has done so: m ntr is the rheme. In the second example, js subordinates an emphatic sentence in an adverb clause. The important part of the adverb clause is not the fact that “he has spent the day” but that he has done so in order to gather his herd; the prepositional phrase r nw st is the rheme.

Occasionally Middle Egyptian uses wnt or ntt plus js to subordinate an emphatic sentence in a noun clause: for example,

nj sḫm rd.k jm.j n ntt j.n.j js mjn m tnw (CT VI, 332p–q)

Your foot will not have control over me, because I have come here from This.¹⁰

Here the emphatic sentence is used in a noun clause after n ntt, “for (the fact) that.” The important part of the noun clause is not the statement “I have come here” but the prepositional phrase m tnw “from This,” since it is this origin that gives the speaker the immunity described in the first clause.

Middle Egyptian thus has four ways of subordinating an emphatic sentence: by context alone (as an unmarked noun clause), by ntt or wnt (in a marked noun clause), by js (in a marked noun or adverb clause), and by ntt or wnt plus js (in a marked noun clause). Of these four constructions, the two with js are sure signs that the subordinated clause is an emphatic sentence. The other two are also used with subordinated clauses that are not emphatic (§ 21.4), so only the context indicates whether the subordinated clause is emphatic.

25.11The negation of emphatic sentences

In a regular sentence, negating the verb form also negates the rheme, because the verb expresses the rheme. In the English sentence Jill does not like to sing in the shower, for example, the negated verb form tells us something negative about Jill. In emphatic sentences, however, negation of the verb form does not negate the rheme, because the rheme is something other than the verb form. This means that emphatic sentences can have two negations:

1)negation of the verb form. This produces an affirmative sentence with a negated verb: for example, Jill does not like to sing IN THE SHOWER or It is in the shower that Jill does not like to sing. This sentence answers the question Where does Jill not like to sing? and says something about the negative statement Jill does not like to sing.

2)negation of the rheme. This produces a negative sentence with an affirmative verb: for example, It is not in the shower that Jill likes to sing. This is one way of answering the question Where does Jill like to sing?, by telling us that of all the places Jill may like to sing, the shower is not one of them. Note that the verb form is affirmative (Jill likes to sing), even though the rheme is negated: the sentence tells us that Jill does in fact like to sing, but not in the shower.

Middle Egyptian uses two different negations for the emphatic sentence, depending on whether the predicate or the rheme is being negated.¹¹

The verb form in emphatic sentences is negated by means of the negative verb tm plus the negatival complement, as in in other uses (§§ 20.16, 21.14): for example,

tm.k tr sdm ḥr mj (Peas. B1, 211)

Why do you not listen?

tm.f ḫr jm [r] ḥr rḫ.f rn.f (CT VII, 11o)

It is because he knows his name that he doesn’t fall on the face there

tm.k jw r.j tm.j dd r.k (CT V, 326h)

You don’t come against me and I won’t speak against you.

These examples illustrate how tm negates the verb in sentences with a rhematic interrogative (§ 25.5) and adverb clause (§ 25.7), and in a balanced sentence (§ 25.9).

The rheme in emphatic sentences is negated by means of the negative particle nj before the verb plus the enclitic particle js after the verb: for instance,

šm.n.k nḫ.t(j) nj šm.n.k js m(w)t.(tj) (CT I, 187e)

You have gone away alive: you have not gone away dead.

This example is from a spell of the Coffin Texts spoken to the deceased. In each of its two sentences, the rheme is the adverb clause, not the predicate šm.n.k. The fact that the deceased has “gone away” is a given: what is important is how he has “gone away.” Note that in the second sentence the negation does not apply to the predicate šm.n.k (since the deceased has in fact gone away), but to the rheme: i.e., “it is not dead that you have gone away (but alive).”

The use of js shows that the negative nj does not apply to the verb that follows it but to the whole sentence: without js the sentence would mean “you do not go away, being dead.” The particle js is therefore an important clue to the meaning of a sentence. The construction nj VERB js is almost always the sign of an emphatic sentence; without js, the sentence is a normal construction with a negated predicate. This use of js with the negative particle nj is similar to that which we have seen in nominal sentences (§ 11.5). In both constructions js serves as a signal to the reader or listener that the negation is not meant to apply just to the word that follows nj.

25.12The verb wnn in emphatic sentences

The sdm.f of wnn “exist” can be used to allow a clause with adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate to serve as the theme in an emphatic sentence:

wnn.k ḥr rdjt dj.tw n.f qw nn rdjt rḫ.f ntt ntk rdj n.f st (Peas. B1, 114–15)

You shall be having rations given to him without letting him know that you are the one who gives them to him.¹²

Here the adverb clause nn rdjt rḫ.f ntt ntk rdj n.f st is the rheme of the sentence. As in the sentence discussed at the end of § 25.7, above, this statement both orders someone to give rations and stresses the situation in which that should be done.

The sdm.f of wnn can also be used as a verb in its own right. Common examples of this use are balanced sentences such as the following:

wnn pt wnn.t ḫr.j (Urk. IV, 348, 9)

As long as the sky exists, you will exist with me.

25.13Identifying emphatic sentences

With the exception of balanced sentences and the subordinate and negative constructions discussed in §§ 25.10–11, the sentences in this lesson look mostly like those we have already encountered in previous lessons. So, how can we identify emphatic sentences, and more importantly, why should we bother to do so?

First of all, it should be stressed that the identification of emphatic sentences is primarily a matter of translation, just as is true for the unmarked subordinate clauses discussed in Lessons 20 – 22. For the most part, Middle Egyptian uses the same kinds of verb forms and constructions in simple statements, unmarked subordinate clauses, and emphatic sentences. The better you understand how the language works, however, the more sense your translations will make.

A good example is the sentence wbn.f wn wnwt nn rḫ.tw ḫpr mtrt that was discussed in § 25.8.1. This consists of four sdm.f clauses that mean literally “he rises, the time is, one will not know, noon happens.” To translate them like that, however, hardly makes sense and does not capture what the sentence actually means. Instead, we have to go beyond the grammar and think about the relationship between these four statements. For the last two, this is fairly easy, because their relationship is captured pretty well by the literal English translation “one will not know noon happens,” though you might want to make it even clearer by putting “that” between the two: “one will not know that noon happens.” For the first two, it is obvious that “he rises, the time is” makes litle sense, but if you remember that Egyptian likes unmarked adverb clauses, you can get a better idea of what is meant by supply an adverbial conjunction—“he rises when the time is”—and then change the translation to better English: “he rises when it is time.” Finally, you have to think about the relationship between the two larger clauses. “He rises when it is time and one will not know that noon happens” makes a fair amount of sense, but if you think about what is actually being said, you will realize that the first clause is less important than the second, and this is a good clue that the sentence is an emphatic one. To capture this relationship, you can make the first clause subordinate or the second one: “Although he rises when it is time, one will not know that noon happens” or “He rises when it is time, but one will not know that noon happens.”

In this case, there is really nothing to identify these four clauses as an emphatic sentence other than the fact that they do not make much sense otherwise. Fortunately, for many sentences there are two clues that can help you identify when the sentence is an emphatic one.

1)Its construction

Certain kinds of constructions are characteristic of emphatic sentences. As noted in § 25.5, interrogative words or phrases are always the rheme, so the sentence they are used in is always emphatic. For the purposes of translation, however, this is not something that you have to keep in mind, because the same is true in English. A sentence such as jr.tw nn mj mj does not have to be translated as “It is like what that this was done?” in order to capture its meaning: the simple translation “How was this done?” does so just as well (and more fluently). Other emphatic constructions that are easy to recognize are balanced sentences (§ 25.9), those in which the sdm.f or sdm.n.f is subor dinated by js or wnt/ntt … js (§ 25.10), and those in which the verb form is negated by nj … js (§ 25.11).

2)The nature of its verb

The geminated form of 3ae-inf., 4ae-inf., caus. 3ae-inf. verbs, and anom. rdj can be a clue that the sentence is emphatic (§ 25.4). Although these are also found in noun clauses and in the relative sdm.f, if both of those functions can be ruled out, a sentence that uses these forms will almost certainly be an emphatic one.

In Lesson 17 we learned that Middle Egyptian normally uses the sdm.n.f to express completed action only with transitive verbs, while the stative is regularly used for the same purpose with intransitive verbs (§ 17.3). This preference has an important corollary: the sdm.n.f of intransitive verbs is usually a clue that the sentence or clause is emphatic. The only major exception to this rule is when an intransitive sdm.n.f is used after the negative particle nj (§ 17.11)—unless, of course, the verb form is also followed by js (§ 25.11).

Since the stative is normally used to express completed action for intransitive verbs, use of the sdm.n.f of such a verb instead of the stative is usually a good indication that the clause or sentence in which it occurs is emphatic. The reason for this is that the stative is used when the interest is on the action itself (meaning that the verb is the rheme) and the sdm.n.f when it lies elsewhere in the sentence. The difference can be seen in the following example, where both verb forms are used in a single inscription:

ḥ.n.(j) pr.kw m gbtjw …
pr.n.(j) m mš n zj 3000 (Hamm. 114, 10–12)

Then I went out from Coptos …

I went out in an expedition of 3000 men.

The first sentence of this example reports what the speaker did: the predicate is the rheme, expressed by the stative pr.kw. The second sentence repeats the predicate of the first statement, but here the predicate is no longer the rheme: it is now a given, and the important part of the sentence is the prepositional phrase telling how “I went out.” In this case, therefore, the sdm.n.f is used instead of the stative.

Of course, the sdm.n.f of transitive verbs can also be used as the predicate in an emphatic sentence (for an example, see § 25.7, above). In this case, only the construction or the context can indicate whether the sentence is emphatic or not. As a rule, the initial words jw, ḥ.n, and wn.jn typically introduce non-emphatic sentences. The particle m.k, however, can introduce not only the regular sentences (§ 17.7) but also emphatic ones: for example,

m.tn rdj.n.j jš.tw n.tn r rdjt dr.tn n.j z.tn m s (Neferti 6)

Look, I have had you summoned in order to have you seek out for me a son of yours who is (literally, “as one who is”) wise.

Here the point is not that “I have had you summoned,” which the listeners presumably know, but the reason for this action: the adjunct introduced by the preposition r is the rheme.

There are apparently no clear examples of emphatic sentences in which the sdm.n.f is introduced by jw, but the particles jn jw can introduce an emphatic question: for example,

jn jw jj.n.t r jtt.f
nn dj.j jt.t sw m .j (MuK. 2, 3)

Have you come to take him?

I will not let you take him from me.

Here the purpose of the question is not to ask “Have you come?” but “Have you come to take him?”: the rheme, which is what is questioned, is the prepositional phrase r jtt.f. This is an adjunct question; compare the use of jn jw to introduce the transitive sdm.n.f in a predicate question in the first example of § 17.12.

The following chart summarizes how the sdm.n.f is used in emphatic and non-emphatic sentences:

| TRANSITIVE VERBS | INTRANSITIVE VERBS
initial | both | emphatic, rarely non-emphatic
after jw, ḥ.n, wn.jn | non-emphatic | rare, except after jn jw
after m.k | both | both
negated by nj (or nn) | non-emphatic | non-emphatic
negated by nj ... js | emphatic | emphatic.

As you can see from this chart, both the kind of construction in which it is used and the nature of the verb itself are important clues to whether a sdm.n.f is the predicate of an emphatic sentence or not. In general there is little ambiguity except in the case of the sdm.n.f of a transitive verb used after m.k or without an introductory word.

ESSAY 25. LETTERS

Of all the kinds of Egyptian texts that have survived, letters bring us closest to the ancient Egyptians as real people. They also give us the best example of Egyptian as a spoken language. Like the non-literary texts discussed in Essay 24, they were concerned with content rather than form. Egyptian letters were composed, like our own, as a substitute for spoken communication. As such they reflect the everyday language of their writers much more closely than literary texts. Even the letters of high officials, such as the vizier, use colloquialisms, such as the definite article p (§ 5.10.3).

Letters have survived from almost all periods of ancient Egyptian history, and from all but the very lowest levels of Egyptian society. We have copies of letters written by Egyptian kings to officials, and real letters from Egyptians to their superiors (including the king), their subordinates, and their own friends and families.

The earliest preserved letters are copies of messages sent by King Isesi of Dynasty 5 (ca. 2350 BC) to his officials and reproduced in their tomb biographies. A century later the young king Pepi II of Dynasty 6 sent a letter to one of his officials, named Harkhuf, which Harkhuf later had carved into the façade of his tomb at Aswan. In it, the king responds to a letter that Harkhuf had sent with news of an expedition he had led to Nubia for the king:

You have said in this letter of yours that you are bringing a pygmy of the god’s dances from the land of the horizon dwellers … Come downstream to the capital at once! Cast off and bring this pygmy with you …. When he boards the boat with you, assign able people who will be around him on both sides of the boat and who will keep him from falling in the water. Also, assign able people who will sleep around him in his cabin. Inspect ten times a night. My Incarnation wants to see this pygmy more than the products of Sinai or Punt! (Urk. I, 128, 14 – 130, 15)

The letter is dated to Pepi II’s Regnal Year 2, when the king was about eight years old.

Most letters were written on ostraca or on sheets of papyrus cut to about the height of a modern sheet of paper (Fig. 19). Very few were dated. Many were dictated to scribes, but quite a few preserved letters were actually written by their senders. As such, they are a good indication of the level of literacy among educated Egyptians, including some women. Once a letter on papyrus was completed, it was rolled up from left to right, then folded in half or thirds. Official letters on papyrus were regularly tied with a strip of linen and sealed (Fig. 19), but other kinds seem to have been posted without sealing. The address was written on the outside of the folded letter. The address in Fig. 20, for example, reads:

Fig. 19. A letter of Heqanakht in hieratic on papyrus (Allen, Heqanakht, pl. 12)

Fig. 20. The letter in Fig. 19 as found, folded, addressed, and sealed (Allen, Heqanakht, pl. 6)

There was no mail service in ancient Egypt, so letters were entrusted to travelers for delivery.

The content of Egyptian letters is as varied as those of our own society. Most deal with business or administrative matters, but others were written just to keep in touch. An example of the latter is the following, written by a woman in Thebes to her mother in the Thinite nome, near Abydos, in the early 12th Dynasty:

A thousand phrases of greeting you, in lph! (§ 20.9.2) [May] you be [well], with your heart sweet. May Hathor sweeten your heart for me. Don’t worry about me. Look, I am healthy … And greetings to Gereg in lph. Look, I have had Si[hathor] (the letter carrier) come to check on you. Don’t let Gereg forget about [what I told] him. And greet the whole house for me in lph! (Heqanakht IV).

The purpose of such correspondence is reflected in a common Egyptian idiom for “communication,” swd jb “making sound the heart,” which refers to the notion that letters can relieve the recipient’s worry about the sender. This expression is often used as an infinitival phrase in letters, referring to the letter itself: for instance,

swd jb pw n nb.j nḫ-wd-snb r ntt hw nb n nb.j nḫ-wd-snb d.(w) wd.(w) (Kahun, pl. 29, 2–4)

This is a communication to my lord, lph, to the effect that all the affairs of my lord, lph, are safe and sound.

Egyptian letters often use stock phrases in the same way that our own use expressions such as “Dear Sir,” “Sincerely,” and “Yours truly.” Many of these occur in letters from individuals to their superiors. As a term of respect, the letter writer often refers to himself as bk jm “your humble servant” or “yours truly” (literally, “the worker there”). In the same way, the superior to whom the letter is directed can be addressed as nb.j nḫ-wd-snb “my lord, lph,” as in the passage just cited, or indirectly as zh.k “your scribe”—presumably indicating that the letter would be dealt with by the recipient’s secretary.

Besides the odd individual letter, a number of important archives have also been found. For Middle Egyptian the most important are the Heqanakht Papyri (Figs. 19–20) containing four letters and several accounts beloinging to a funerary priest of the early 12th Dynasty in Thebes; the Semna Dispatches, copies of administrative letters found in a Nubian fortress; and the Illahun Papyri, a series of several dozen business and administrative letters discovered in a Middle Kingdom settlement near the Fayum. Although most letters exist in only one copy, some model letters were used to train scribes in the New Kingdom and later. Among such letters is a Middle Kingdom composition that was known as kmyt “Kemit”—literally, “Compendium.”

The Egyptians wrote letters not only to the living but also to the dead. From the early Middle Kingdom and later we possess a number of such Letters to the Dead, written on objects that were deposited in the tomb and intended to seek the intercession of the deceased. A typical example is the following, written on a bowl used to present an offering of water in the tomb:

What Dedi sends to the priest Intef, born of Iunakht. What about that maidservant Imiu, who is ill? Won’t you fight for her day and night with anyone, male or female, who acts against her? Why do you want your house to be stripped bare? Take heed about her today like new. If her household is established, water will be poured for you. If there is nothing from you, then your house is diminished. Is it that you do not know that that maidservant is the one who makes your house among people? Take heed about her. Be watchful about her. Save her from all who act against her. Then your house and your children will be established. May your hearing (of it) be good. (L to D, pl. 6)

Such letters are a poignant reminder of how vividly the ancient Egyptians felt their deceased relatives to be a part of their own daily lives.

EXERCISE 25

Transcribe and translate the following sentences.

1. (CT V, 323h–i)

2. (Himmelskuh, 2) — a command

3. (CT VI, 401n–o)

4. (Heqanakht I, vo. 7)

5. (Heqanakht I, vo. 11–12)

6. (Heqanakht II, 3–4)

7. (Helck, HBT, 90)

8. (Khakh. 6)

9. (Leb. 116–18)

10. (MuK. 1, 7)

11. (Neferti 24–26)

12. (Sin. B 11–13) — ngw “Cattle-town” (a village)

13. (Sin. B 72–73)

14. (Sin. B 199–200)

15. (Sin. B 202)

16. (Westc. 6, 4–5)

17. (Westc. 7, 20–21)

18. (Westc. 11, 21–22)

19. (Westc. 12, 14–15)

20. (CT V, 113b)

21. (CT III, 81a–b/d)

22. (CT V, 250k–n) — wn “sanctuary”

23.

(Merikare 11, 10–12, 8) — ḥn “(well) provided,” prw “who come”

1 This sentence has a passive sdm.f with unexpressed subject (§ 19.3): literally, “(It) has been called to me” (or “I have been called to”).

2 The mdyw “Medjay” were a nomadic people of Nubia. For r dd “saying” see § 13.11.3.

3 Metaphorically, of course: compare the English metaphor of the “ship of state.”

4 Egyptian often uses ḥr “on” rather than m “in, from” when describing the place of origin: § 8.2.10.

5 In other words, the sun’s light is too weak to notice. For wn wnwt, see § 20.17.

6 wḥ is the same verb in both clauses. The verb has a number of basic meanings, including intransitive “stay put” and transitive “let stay put.”

7 The “speaking-man” determinative of nḫ here reflects the word nḫ “oath,” which is derived from the use of the verb nḫ in such sentences.

8 The term z t “homage” literally means “protection of the earth.” The expression apparently reflects the image of someone prostrate on the ground, “protecting” it with his body.

9 jb.f is a sdm.f used in an unmarked adverb clause; ḫsf “punish” is used with the dative: literally, “to punish to him.”

10 This sentence comes from an early Middle Egyptian text: nj sḫm is future instead of past (see § 18.13 end). tnw “This” was the capital of the nome of Abydos.

11 It is also possible to negate both the verb form and the rheme, producing a negative sentence with a negated verb: for instance, It is not in the shower that Jill doesn’t like to sing (but in public). This kind of doubly-negated sentence is not very common in English or Egyptian.

12 For rdjt dj.tw see § 21.8. The construction ntk rdj n.f st is a participial statement (§ 23.10).

26.MIDDLE EGYPTIAN GRAMMAR

26.1Rules and exceptions

In order to read and understand texts in any foreign language you need two basic tools, a dictionary and a grammar. A dictionary tells you what the words of a language mean and something about how they are used, and a grammar shows you how the words are put together into actual sentences. The purpose of this book has been to give you a solid grounding in the grammar of Middle Egyptian.

Human languages defy neat and orderly classification. Although all languages obey fundamental rules for the formation of words and sentences, they are also notoriously fluid about how those rules are applied. To appreciate this in English, you have only to look at the works of Lewis Carroll, James Joyce, or Dr. Seuss. Middle Egyptian is no different in this respect than any other language. Although we can approach its grammar in an orderly fashion—as the content and arrangement of the lessons in this book have tried to do—we are often puzzled and even frustrated by the continual appearance of what seem to be exceptions to the rules. Middle Egyptian can be especially difficult in this regard, as you have seen throughout the course of these lessons. There are a number of reasons why this is so.

Like any language, Middle Egyptian had its own unique way of understanding the phenomena of the world and the relationships between them. Every language is different in this respect from every other language, but some are more different than others. It is relatively easy for speakers of English to learn modern languages such as Spanish or German because to a great extent these languages share with English a common civilization and a common experience of the world. Ancient Egypt, however, is separated from us by a much greater gulf of time and culture. The people who spoke and wrote Middle Egyptian understood the world in many ways much differently than we do, and they organized their experience of it differently as well. Even though we may understand the individual words and grammar of an Egyptian sentence, therefore, there are times when the meaning of the sentence as a whole can still elude us.

Of course, we can come up against similar problems with modern languages, but when we do we have the advantage of being able to ask a native speaker for explanation. This luxury is not available for Middle Egyptian. As a result, we cannot always be certain whether the problem lies in our own understanding or in the ancient text itself. Individual languages also vary from region to region and even from speaker to speaker. What is acceptable usage to one group of speakers may not be so to another. Our knowledge of modern languages usually allows us to appreciate the difference between such dialectal variation and a genuinely ungrammatical usage. Here again, we have no such luxury for Middle Egyptian. It is not always possible, therefore, to know whether an unusual construction represents a real exception or simply a scribal error. Because languages are capable of great flexibility, however, we have to give the texts the benefit of the doubt: as a rule Egyptologists are (or should be) wary of labeling something an error rather than an exception.

Languages also change over the course of time. When we learn a modern language, we normally study only one stage of its historical evolution, and the knowledge we acquire of that stage ultimately allows us to recognize a different historical usage when we encounter it. Students who learn modern English as a foreign language, for example, soon come to realize that constructions such as thou art belong to an earlier stage of the language and are used today only in very limited and narrowly defined contexts, such as prayers or archaic dialects. As you have learned in the course of these lessons, Middle Egyptian was a spoken language for several hundreds of years and was written for many centuries more. Our understanding of the language has improved slowly to the point where we are often able to recognize an archaic usage as such, but it is still evolving and much work remains to be done in this area of Middle Egyptian grammar. Here again, the imperfect state of our knowledge does not always allow us to know when an unusual construction is a deliberate archaism or simply a less common contemporary usage.

All of these factors mean that our appreciation of what actually constitutes Middle Egyptian is less precise than we might like—and correspondingly, the language is more difficult to teach and learn. Nonetheless, it is possible to identify and organize the basic core of Middle Egyptian grammar, and that fundamental core is what we have been studying in the lessons of this book. To make it easier for you to appreciate and remember these basics, the following sections present a summary and overview of Middle Egyptian grammar.

26.2Categories of words

Middle Egyptian words are normally classified into seven basic categories: nouns, pronouns, adjectives, prepositions, adverbs, particles, and verb forms. Each word in a Middle Egyptian sentence belongs to one of these seven categories.

It is important to remember that these are lexical (dictionary) categories, not syntactic ones. As we have seen throughout these lessons, it is possible for a word of one category to be used in actual sentences like that of another: for example, nouns of time can be used as adverbs (§ 8.14) and prepositional phrases can be used as adjectives (§ 6.7) or nouns (Exercise 15 no. 20), and verb forms can be used like nouns (§ 21.6). Despite this flexibility in use, however, the words themselves are still nouns, prepositions, verbs, and so forth.

26.3Nouns (Lesson 4)

All Egyptian nouns consist of a root and an ending. The root carries the noun’s basic meaning: for example, sn “sibling.” The ending identifies the noun as belonging to one of two genders, masculine or feminine, and tells whether it is singular, dual, or plural in number. Masculine singular nouns can have no ending, but the other endings consist of one or more consonants.

When they are used in a sentence, nouns are usually defined or undefined. These features are not marked in the form of the noun but by what the noun refers to. Nouns can also be used together in noun phrases of apposition, conjunction (“and”), disjunction (“or”), or possession. These relationships can be expressed simply by putting two nouns together, or by linking them with a separate word such as a preposition or the genitival adjective.

26.4Pronouns (Lesson 5 and §§ 10.5, 14.5)

There are three kinds of pronouns in Middle Egyptian: interrogative, demonstrative, and personal. Interrogative pronouns have only one form and are used exclusively in questions. Demonstrative pronouns have different forms to distinguish gender and number. They can be used either by themselves or to modify a noun or noun phrase. Personal pronouns distinguish person as well as gender and number, and have five forms: independent, dependent, suffix, stative, and subject.

Independent pronouns are used as the subject or predicate in nominal sentences (§ 7.6), as part of the predicate in nominal sentences of adherence (§ 7.8), to express the agent of the infinitive (§ 13.4.1), and as emphasized subject (§ 25.3). The subject pronouns are another kind of independent pronoun, used as the subject of an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate (§§ 10.5, 14.4).

The dependent pronouns always follow some other word. They are used as the subject in adjectival sentences (§ 7.3), as part of the subject in nominal sentences of adherence (§ 7.8), and in adverbial sentences after certain introductory words (§ 10.4), as the expressed subject of the imperative (§ 15.3), and as the object of verb forms.

The suffix pronouns are always attached as part of a word. There are two sets of such pronouns. One is used exclusively with the stative (§ 16.2). The other set has a wider range of use: as the possessor of a noun (§ 5.7), the object of a preposition (§ 8.4), the subject in adverbial sentences after certain introductory words (§ 10.3), the subject or object of the infinitive (§§ 13.4–5), and the subject of verb forms; and for the gender and number markings of the sdmtj.fj (§ 23.13).

The impersonal pronoun tw (§ 14.5) is used like both a dependent pronoun and a suffix pronoun, as the subject of an adverbial or verbal predicate. As a suffix it is also used to make the passive of some verb forms.

26.5Adjectives (Lesson 6)

The category of adjectives is primarily a functional one. There is only one Egyptian word that can only be used as an adjective: nb “all, each, every.” All other Middle Egyptian adjectives are words of other categories that are used as adjectives. These include demonstrative pronouns, the nisbes of nouns and prepositions (§§ 6.1, 8.6), ordinal numbers (§ 9.3), the relative clause markers ntj and jwtj (§§ 22.2–8), and the attributive forms of the verb (relative forms, participles, sdmtj.fj). Except for the demonstrative pronouns, these are actually nouns, used as appositives or in a genitival relationship. Adjectives such as nfr “good, perfect” are participles of adjective verbs (§ 23.6).

Except for nb, adjectives can be used either to modify a preceding noun or noun phrase or as nouns in their own right, without an expressed antecedent. In either case, they are marked for the gender and number of their antecedent, with the same endings used for nouns. Participial adjectives, and some nisbes, can also be used as adjectival predicates (Lesson 7 and §§ 23.8, 24.5). The participial adjective wr can also be used as an interrogative meaning “how much?” (§§ 6.6, 7.13 end).

26.6Prepositions and Adverbs (Lesson 8)

Middle Egyptian has seventeen basic prepositions and a large number of compound prepositions formed from the basic prepositions plus a noun, infinitive, or adverb. The category of adverbs includes three primary adverbs, one interrogative, several adverbs formed from adjectives, and prepositional adverbs. Words of other categories, such as nouns and verb forms, can also be used as adverbs.

26.7Particles (Lesson 16)

The category of particles includes words that do not fit readily into one of the other categories of Egyptian words. Particles are classified as proclitic or enclitic, depending on whether they can occur at the head of a clause or only after another word. Some particles are interjections.

26.8Verb forms (Lessons 12 – 24)

Middle Egyptian verbs belong to one of fifteen root classes and are basically either transitive or intransitive (Lesson 12). When a verb is used in a clause or sentence it must appear in a particular form. Middle Egyptian uses sixteen such forms, which can be divided into five formal categories.

1)Suffix conjugation—seven forms, divided into three subcategories:

a)two sdm.f forms, active (Lesson 18) and passive (Lesson 19)

b)four biliteral-suffixed forms: the sdm.n.f (Lesson 17), and the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f (Lesson 19)

c)the sdmt.f (Lesson 19)—probably an infinitival form.

2)Stative—a single form, with obligatory pronominal suffixes indicating person, gender, and number (Lesson 16).

3)Imperative—a single form (Lesson 15). The spoken language seems to have distinguished between masculine or feminine and singular or plural imperatives, at least for some verbs, but written forms show at most a difference between singular and plural.

4)Attributives—three forms: active and passive participles, and the sdmtj.fj, which acts like a participle (Lessons 23 – 24). Each form is marked for the gender and number of its antecedent by an ending or, in the sdmtj.fj, by a pronominal suffix. The relative sdm.f and sdm.n.f (Lesson 22) are the same as the sdm.f and sdm.n.f of the suffix conjugation with the addition of gender and number endings.

5)Infinitivals—four forms, three of which are used as the infinitive, negatival complement, and complementary infinitive (Lesson 13).

26.9Verb forms: formal features

Each of the sixteen verb forms of Middle Egyptian is composed of one to four formal elements (§ 12.8).

1)The verb stem appears in every verb form. There are two such stems in Middle Egyptian, base and geminated, the latter only visible for particular root classes in particular forms (causative stems are considered a separate root). The verb rdj has two different base forms.

2)Endings are added to the verb stem in some forms. There are two kinds of endings: formal (which distinguish particular forms) and gender/number. The latter are used in the imperative (plural) and the attributive forms (participles and relative forms); they are the same as the gender and number endings of nouns and adjectives, except in the imperative (§ 15.1) and the sdmtj.fj (§ 23.13).

Formal endings are less consistent. The only ones that are used for all verbs of all classes are the endings –t of the sdmt.f and the complementary infinitive (§§ 19.13, 13.20) and –tj of the sdmtj.fj (§ 23.13). Other formal endings are used for some verbs or classes in the sdm.f (§§ 18.2, 19.2), the sdmt.f (–yt in some 3ae-inf. forms: § 19.13), the participles (§§ 23.4, 24.1), the sdmtj.fj (–wtj in some 3ae-inf. forms: § 23.13), the relative sdm.f (§ 22.13), and the infinitive and negatival complement (§§ 13.3, 13.17).

Some verb forms can use both kinds of endings together: for example, in the masculine plural active participle msddyw “those who hate,” y is a formal ending (of the geminated form) and w is an attributive ending (marking the masculine plural). Only a few verb forms have no ending in any class: these include the sdm.n.f (non-relative); the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f; and the stative.

3)Suffixes are added after any endings to distinguish some verb forms. There are five of these in Middle Egyptian: n, used in the sdm.n.f (§ 17.2); the biliteral suffixes jn, ḫr, and k, used in the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f (§ 19.9); and the suffix tw, which is used to make the passive of some verb forms (see § 26.12 below). The passive suffix is added after the other four suffixes.

4)The prefix j can be added before the verb stem in some forms. This is a fairly unusual feature in Middle Egyptian, and may be dialectal in origin. It is used only for some verbs or verb classes, usually as an option, in the imperative (§ 15.2.1), the sdm.f (§ 18.2), and the active participle (§ 23.5).

26.10Verb forms: action vs. state

The normal meaning of most Middle Egyptian verb forms is that of action. The stative, however, normally expresses a state of being, either as an existing condition or as the result of completed action (Lesson 16). The formal distinction between action and state is not part of the English verbal system. As a result, the stative often has to be translated by an English verb form or construction implying action rather than state, even though the stative itself does not normally have this connotation.

26.11Verb forms: mood

The Middle Egyptian verbal system has two moods, indicative and subjunctive (§ 12.9.3). The indicative is the normal or unmarked mood, denoting action or state as a statement of fact; the subjunctive is a marked mood, indicating that the action or state is viewed as contingent, possible, or desirable. The only verb form marked for mood is the imperative (Lesson 15). The other verb forms are unmarked for mood. As such, some of them can occasionally be used with subjunctive as well as indicative meaning: for example, the stative or the sdm.f expressing a wish or command (§§ 16.6, 18.8).

26.12Verb forms: voice

The Middle Egyptian verbal system has two voices, active and passive (§ 12.9.4). Some verb forms are neutral with regard to voice, and can be used with passive as well as the normal active meaning: these include the stative, the sdmt.f, the sdmtj.fj, and the infinitival forms. Only two verb forms are specifically passive: the passive sdm.f and the passive participle. All the other verb forms are active. The imperative and the active participles can only be used with active meaning. The other active forms can be made passive by means of the suffix tw.

26.13Verb forms: tense

Middle Egyptian verb forms can express both absolute and relative tense: that is, action that is past, present, or future with respect to either the moment of speaking or another action (§ 12.9.1). No forms are marked for absolute tense. A few verb forms, however, are normally associated with a specific relative tense: these include the sdmt.f and sdmtj.fj, denoting action yet to occur with respect to some other action; and the sdm.jn.f and sdm.k.f, which denote subsequent or consequent action.

26.14Verb forms: aspect

Aspect in Middle Egyptian is both a lexical feature and a syntactic one. This means that some aspectual features come from the dictionary and others, from verb forms or constructions. Lexical aspect is signaled by the geminated stem (repetitive or normative action) and by the 4-lit. and 5-lit. reduplicated stems (multiple or intensive action). The only verb form marked for aspect is the sdm.n.f, which denotes completed action; the stative often expresses completed action, which was its original meaning. Incomplete action (corresponding to the English progressive forms) is expressed by mean of the pseudo-verbal SUBJECT–ḥr-sdm construction and in older texts by the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction.

26.15Predicates

Middle Egyptian clauses and sentences are classified into four different types, based on the nature of their predicate.

1)Nominal (Lessons 7 and 11)

Clauses or sentences with nominal predicates basically express the identity of their subject. The predicate can be a noun or noun equivalent (noun phrase, pronoun, or noun clause). Because the same elements are used as the subjects of Egyptian sentences, the predicate can be identified only by the composition of the sentence or its context. There are three basic nominal-sentence patterns: A pw, A B, and A pw B. The predicate in A pw is always A. In the A B and A pw B patterns it can be either A or B.

2)Adjectival (Lessons 7 and 11)

Clauses or sentences with adjectival predicates basically express a quality of their subject. The predicate can be a participial adjective or a nisbe. The predicate always precedes its subject and is always masculine singular (or dual: §§ 7.2, 23.8. 24.5), regardless of the gender and number of the subject.

3)Adverbial (Lessons 10 – 11 and 14)

Clauses or sentences with adverbial predicates basically express the location of their subject. The predicate can be an adverb or adverb equivalent, including prepositional phrases and the pseudo-verbal construction, and usually follows the subject.

4)Verbal (Lessons 13 – 25)

Clauses or sentences with verbal predicates express an action or state of their subject. The predicate can be any verb form that can have a subject of its own, expressed or unexpressed; this includes all forms except the negatival complement and complementary infinitive. Verbal predicates always precede their subject. Certain verbal constructions— notably, SUBJECT-stative and SUBJECT-sdm.f—require the subject to be expressed before the verb form, but in such cases it is also repeated after the verb in the form of a pronominal suffix. The various elements of a verbal clause follow a specific word order, summarized as VsdoSOA (§ 13.6): verb (V), pronominal suffix subject (s), pronominal dative (d), pronominal object (o), nominal subject (S), nominal object (O), and adjuncts (A) such as adverbs and prepositional phrases (including nominal datives).

26.16Clauses

Middle Egyptian sentences have four kinds of clauses: main clauses, noun clauses, adverb clauses, and relative clauses. Main clauses are those that can stand by themselves as independent sentences; all sentences must have a main clause. The others are subordinate and cannot finction as a complete sentence by themselves (Lessons 20 – 22). Noun clauses serve as nouns: for example, as the object of a preposition or verb or as the subject of another predicate. Adverb clauses have the same function as prepositional phrases and adverbs, describing when, where, why, or how something happens or is true. Relative clauses are those with attributive function, modifying an antecedent (expressed or unexpressed). Main clauses are also known as independent clauses and the others, as dependent.

All four kinds of clauses can be unmarked or marked. Unmarked clauses usually have nothing but the context in which they are used to indicate their function. Marked clauses have a word of some kind, such as particles (Lesson 15), to show how they are being used. The major indicators of this sort are the following:

main clauses: the introductory words ḥ.n, wn.jn, and wn.ḫr; the proclitic particles jn, jsw, m.k, nḥmn, ḥ, and smwn

adverb clauses: the proclitic particles jst and tj, and the enclitic particle js

noun clauses: the proclitic particles wnt and ntt, and the enclitic particle js

relative clauses: the relative adjectives ntj and jwtj.

The function of clauses with a verbal predicate can also be indicated by the form of the verb. Four verb forms are used exclusively in main clauses: the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, sdm.k.f, and the imperative. The participles are the most common means that Middle Egyptian uses to make relative clauses with a verbal predicate (Lessons 23 – 24). Noun clauses with a verbal predicate can be expressed with the infinitive; the sdm.f, sdm.n.f, and sdmt.f; and the SUBJECT–stative construction. There are no verb forms specifically marked for use in noun or adverb clauses, although the complementary infinitive serves as complement to another form of the same verb (§ 13.19). Note that the enclitic particle js marks both adverbial and nominal subordination.

26.17Adverb clauses

Middle Egyptian adverb clauses can have all four types of predicate. The following table summarizes their normal distribution in unmarked and marked adverb clauses:

PREDICATE | UNMARKED | WITH js | WITH jst/tj
nominal | [picture] | [picture] | (jst)
adjectival | [picture] |  | (jst)
adverbial | [picture] |  | [picture]

verbal
sdm.f, sdm.n.f,
stative,
SUBJECT-stative,
SUBJECT-sdm.f
sdm.f, sdm.n.f
(emphatic
clauses)
sdm.f, sdm.n.f,
stative,
SUBJECT-stative,
SUBJECT-sdm.f

Adverb clauses can also be expressed by means of a prepositional phrase consisting of a preposition and a marked or unmarked noun clause (§§ 21.4, 21.9).

Adverb clauses normally follow the clause on which they are dependent. Those with a preposition and an unmarked noun clause, however, can precede their governing clause (§ 21.9). The protasis of a conditional sentence always precedes the main clause, or apodosis (§ 18.12). The particle ḫr (§ 15.6.13) can also be used to allow an adverb clause to stand at the head of its sentence.

Syntactically, all adverb clauses are adverbial modifiers of a main or governing clause. Adverb clauses, however, can express a number of different meanings, often depending on the nature of their predicate. These are summarized in the following sections.

26.18Adverb clauses of circumstance

Circumstantial clauses describe a circumstance or situation under which the governing clause happens or is true. Such clauses express three kinds of circumstance.

1)Prior circumstance—action that happened, or a state or situation that existed, before that of the governing clause. Prior circumstance is expressed by:

a verb form—the sdm.n.f and passive sdm.f (§§ 20.10, 20.14)

a preposition plus a noun clause—m ḫt and r s “after” plus the infinitive ( m ḫt jt (Urk. IV, 916, 3) “after returning”), the sdm.f ( r s jr.f jrt.f (Siut I, 298) “after he does what he should do”), or SUBJECT-stative ( m ḫt tnj gm.twnj (CT II, 350a) “after the two of you have been found”); dr “since” plus the infinitive or the sdm.f ( dr prt m ht (Urk. IV, 1198, 16) “since emerging from the womb,” dr wn ḥm.j m jnp (Urk. IV, 157, 7) “since (the time) My Incarnation was a child”).

2)Concomitant circumstance—action that happens, or a state or situation that exists, at the same time as that of the governing clause. Concomitant circumstance is expressed by:

an adverbial or pseudo-verbal predicate (§ 20.7)

a verb form or construction—the stative or SUBJECT-stative construction (§ 20.8), the sdm.f or SUBJECT-sdm.f construction (§ 20.11)

a preposition plus a noun clause—ḥr, m, or ḫft “while, when” plus the infinitive (§ 13.11) or the sdm.f (§ 21.9).

3)Posterior circumstance—action that happens, or a state or situation that exists, after that of the governing clause. Posterior circumstance is expressed by:

the sdmt.f, in the constructions nj sdmt.f “before he heard,” r sdmt.f “until he hears,” and dr sdmt.f “before he hears” (§§ 19.14, 19.16); also the sdm.f after r or other prepositions: r spr.s r dw pn (Hamm. 110, 4) “until she arrived at this mountain,” dp sḥ.n t (ShS. 103) “before we could touch land”

the sdm.f, indicating either purpose or result (§ 20.13)

the sdm.f or SUBJECT–sdm.f construction after the particles jḫ and k (§ 18.11), indicating result

the preposition r plus the infinitive, expressing purpose (§ 13.11.3); also the prepositional phrase n mrwt “for the sake (literally, “love”) of” plus the infinitive or the sdm.f: n mr(w)t swb r-pr pn (Urk. IV, 835, 7) “for the sake of cleaning this temple,” n mrwt ḥ.tn ḥr.f (Sethe, Lesestücke, 84, 18) “for the sake of you fighting for it.”

Result can also be expressed in main clauses by the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, and sdm.k.f, indicating consequence (§§ 19.10–12).

26.19Adverb clauses of causality

Clauses of causality describe the reason for the statement of the governing clause. Causality is expressed in two ways: by a circumstantial clause or by a preposition plus a noun clause. Clauses of prior circumstance often indicate causality (§ 20.10).

The preposition ḥr plus the infinitive can express causality (§ 13.11.1), as can the prepositions n and ḥr with the sdm.f: for example, n njs.k r.n (Urk. IV, 566, 12) “because you called to us,” ḥr ḫḫ mw (Smith 21, 17) “because the water evaporates.” The preposition dr “since” can also express causality when it governs the sdm.f: for instance, dr ngg js (Smith 2, 21–22) “since the brain is exposed.”

More often, prepositional phrases expressing causality govern a noun clause that is introduced by ntt (§ 21.4). In older texts, the preposition n can also be used with a noun clause marked by js: for example,

n twt js sb() pw ms.n jmnt nfrt (CT I, 30d–31a B6C)

because you are that star whom the beautiful West has given birth to.

Causality is also expressed with the compound prepositional phrases n jqr n “because of the excellence of,” n t n “because of the greatness of,” and n wr n “because of the importance of,” all of which mean basically “because of how much,” plus a noun clause after the indirect genitive (the second n): for instance,

n t n mrr.j sw (Helck, HBT, 29)

because of how much I love him.

26.20Adverb clauses of condition and concession

Conditional clauses are those that describe a condition under which the main clause is true. The conditional clause, introduced by “if,” “when,” or “should” in English, is called the protasis, and the main clause is known as the apodosis. A conditional protasis can be expressed by jr plus the sdm.f or by the sdm.f alone (§ 18.12), or by a balanced sentence (§ 25.9). Questions introduced by jn can sometimes be interpreted as conditional clauses: for example,

jn jwsw pw nj gs.n.f (Peas. B1, 342–43)

If it is a balance, it cannot tilt—or

Is it a balance? (Then) it cannot tilt.

Clauses of concession are a kind of condition on which the statement of another clause is based. Such clauses are normally introduced by “as” or “although” in English; in Egyptian, oaths can also be classified as sentences with a clause of concession. In Middle Egyptian, clauses of concession are usually expressed by means of an emphatic sentence (§ 25.8.1–3) or by the preposition m plus the sdm.f (§ 21.9). Like the protasis of a conditional sentence, clauses of concession regularly precede the main clause, but those expressed by m plus the sdm.f can follow it.

26.21Other kinds of adverb clauses

The preceding three sections summarize the major kinds of adverb clauses found in Middle Egyptian sentences. Adverb clauses of other types are expressed by means of a preposition plus a noun clause, and take their meaning from the preposition: for example, clauses of comparison introduced by mj “like,” or ḫft “according as” (§ 21.9).

26.22Noun clauses

Middle Egyptian noun clauses can have all four types of predicate, but adjectival predicates are rarely used in such clauses and adverbial predicates are limited to marked noun clauses. The following table summarizes the normal distribution of the various kinds of predicates in umarked and marked noun clauses:

PREDICATE | UNMARKED | WITH js | WITH ntt/wnt
nominal | [picture] | [picture] | [picture]
adjectival |  | rare |
adverbial |  |  | [picture]
verbal | sdm.f, SUBJECT-stative, sdm.n.f, infinitive | sdm.f, sdm.n.f (emphatic sentences) | sdm.f, sdm.n.f, SUBJECT-stative, SUBJECT-sdm.f

Marked noun clauses are used primarily as the object of a verb or preposition. Unmarked noun clauses can also serve as the subject of another predicate.

26.23Relative clauses

All four types of predicate can also be used in relative clauses, but nominal and adjectival predicates are mostly limited to unmarked relative clauses. The following table summarizes the normal distribution of the various kinds of predicates in unmarked and marked relative clauses:

PREDICATE | UNMARKED | WITH ntj | WITH jwtj
nominal |  |  | [picture]
adjectival | [picture] | rare |
adverbial | [picture] | [picture] |

verbal
attributive forms,
stative,
sdm.f, sdm.n.f,
SUBJECT-stative
sdm.f, sdm.n.f,
SUBJECT-stative,
SUBJECT-sdm.f (rare)
sdm.f, sdm.n.f

The difference between unmarked and marked relative clauses generally corresponds to a difference in the kind of antecedent. Undefined antecedents are normally modified by unmarked relative clauses, but also by marked ones. Vocatives and proper names can also be modified by an unmarked relative clause (§ 22.16). Defined antecedents are normally modified by marked relative clauses or by the attributive verb forms.

Like adjectives, relative clauses can be used both to modify an expressed antecedent and as nouns by themselves. The latter use is limited to the attributive forms and marked relative clauses, except in nominal sentences of the pattern jnk mr.f “I am one who loves” (§ 22.15).

26.24Clause relationships

All sentences consist of at least one clause, but they can also contain many clauses. In sentences with more than one clause, one of the clauses must be the main clause. In Middle Egyptian sentences this is normally the first clause, but some sentences have the main clause second. This is particularly true of conditional sentences and those with clauses of concession.

Clauses other than the main clause can be dependent on or subordinate to it, or they can be secondary main clauses. Dependent clauses usually follow the main clause, but they can also precede it or be embedded within it. Common examples of embedding are noun clauses or relative clauses serving as subject to the predicate of a main clause, and noun clauses that are the object of a verb in the main clause. Dependent clauses can also be embedded within other dependent clauses (§§ 21.17.4).

Secondary main clauses occur in compound sentences (§§ 16.10, 17.5). In English they are usually linked to the main clause by the conjunction and. Compound sentences in Middle Egyptian have no such linking word. Often there is no indication whether two clauses belong to a compound sentence or are consecutive independent statements. The relationship between the two clauses, however, can be signaled overtly by omitting some element in the secondary main clause that is already present in the preceding clause, such as an introductory word or particle or the subject of the verb. This kind of omission, known as “gapping,” occurs mostly in compound sentences in Egyptian, as in English.

26.25Kinds of sentences

Middle Egyptian sentences can be statements or questions, and simple or emphatic. Simple sentences are unmarked constructions: no special features are used to indicate that a sentence is a statement or that it is not emphatic. Because they are unmarked, statements can sometimes be used as “virtual” questions (§ 11.11.1).

Questions are of two kinds: those in which the predicate is questioned, and those in which some other element of the sentence is questioned (§ 17.12). The first kind, which can be called a predicate question, is introduced by the proclitic particle jn (§ 15.6.2), sometimes in conjunction with the enclitic particle tr (§ 15.7.11). Such questions can have a non-verbal or pseudo-verbal predicate (§§ 11.11, 14.9) or a verbal predicate (§§ 16.11, 17.12, 18.16, 19.8); the sdm.jn.f, sdm.ḫr.f, sdm.k.f, and sdmt.f are not used as the predicate in questions.

The second kind of question, which can be called an adjunct question, uses an interrogative pronoun (§ 5.12), adjective (§ 6.6), or adverb (§ 8.13). The structure of such questions depends on the function of the interrogative word in the sentence. When it is an adverb, or part of a prepositional phrase, the sentence is usually an emphatic one (§ 25.5), although an interrogative adverb or prepositional phrase can serve as the predicate itself (§ 10.10). The interrogative pronouns and adjective can also serve as the predicate of an adjectival sentence or nominal sentence (§ 7.13), or as the object of a verb (§ 18.16).

Emphatic sentences are those in which something other than the predicate is the important part, or rheme, of the sentence (Lesson 25). Sentences in which the subject is the rheme normally mark such a subject by using the independent form of the suffix pronoun for pronominal subjects, and by jn before other emphasized subjects (§ 25.3). Those in which the rheme is an adverbial adjunct or an adverb clause use the sdm.f or sdm.n.f as the predicate of the main clause. This construction can also be used as way of prioritizing information in the sentence, so that the main clause is “de-emphasized” in favor of a dependent clause; such sentences are often best translated by making the main clause an initial subordinate clause (§ 25.8).

26.26Negations

Middle Egyptian has eight negative words, which are used for the most part with different constructions and meanings.

1) nj (§ 15.6.8)

The negative particle nj is primarily a negation of words. It is used both by itself and in combination with other words. When used by itself, nj is the normal negation of:

individual words (§ 11.7)

the sdm.n.f (§ 17.11)—negation of action, ability, or necessity

the sdm.f (§ 18.13)—usually past or perfect, sometimes gnomic, in older texts also future

the passive sdm.f (§ 19.7)—negation of action, ability, or necessity (passive counterpart of nj sdm.n.f)

the sdmt.f (§ 19.14)—“before he heard” or “he has/had not yet heard.”

Combinations of nj with other words include the following:

nj js (nj followed directly by js)—negation of contrastive words or phrases (§ 11.7); js serves to subordinate the negative phrase, as it does with words and clauses (§§ 20.5, 21.3, 25.10)

nj … js (nj and js separated by a word or phrase)—negation of nominal sentences (including the participial statement and statements of adherence), and emphatic sentences (§§ 11.5, 25.11); the use of the particle js shows that the negation applies to the sentence as a whole rather than just the word that follows nj

nj zp sdm.f and nj p.f sdm “he never heard” and “he did not once hear” (§ 18.13)

nj wnt (§ 19.15)—negation of existence, often in dependent clauses and with nominal subject: nj wnt X “X being nonexistent, without X”; wnt is the sdmt.f of wnn.

In early or nonstandard Middle Egyptian texts the particle nj can also be used in place of the negative particle nn (§ 15.6.8).

2) nn (§ 15.6.8)

The negative particle nn is primarily a negation of clauses and sentences. It can be used by itself, to mean “or not” (§ 15.6.8). It serves as the negation of:

existence (of a noun, pronoun, or the infinitive), in main clauses or adverb clauses (§§ 11.4, 13.15, 20.15); also nn zp sdm.f, future counterpart of nj zp sdm.f (§ 18.14)

the participle wn, expressing non-existence (§ 18.14)

sentences with adverbial or adjectival predicate (§§ 10.4.2, 10.7, 11.4, 11.6)

sentences with nominal predicate, in later Middle Egyptian; also nn … js (§ 11.5)

sentences with a pseudo-verbal predicate, rarely (§ 14.8)

the SUBJECT-stative construction, rarely (§ 16.12)

the sdm.f—normally future (§ 18.14)

the sdm.n.f—future counterpart of nj sdm.n.f (§ 17.11)

In non-standard Middle Egyptian, nn can be used as a spelling of the negative particle nj (§ 15.6.8).

3) nfr (§ 15.6.9)

The negative particle nfr is used only in combination with other words. It occurs in Middle Egyptian in three constructions:

nfr pw “not at all, not even”—negation of existence, stronger than nn or nn wn

nfr n plus the non-attributive relative sdm.f—used almost exclusively in place of tm to negate the protasis of conditional sentences (compare § 18.15): for example,

jr nfr n wnn m .tn (CG 20003 a 3–4)

if there is nothing at all with you.

nfr plus the sdm.f or as a predicate in its own right—a negative counterpart of the sdm.f, in dependent clauses (the latter as variant of nfr n) or main clauses: for example,

nfr dd.j wg n.tn (Heqanakht II, 31)

I won’t make it be distressful for you at all.

nfr ḫr.k r p mn (Heqanakht I, 5–6)

if there is nothing (more) at all with you than that cloth.

Except for nfr pw, the negation nfr is limited to older Middle Egyptian texts, where it is a holdover from Old Egyptian.

4) w (§ 15.7.4)

The negative particle w is used as an enclitic negation after the sdm.f in wishes or commands: for example,

srw.tn w mḥt tn m st.s tn r nḥḥ (CG 20539 I b 20–21)

You shall not remove this stela from this its place forever.

This is a rare variant of the more common subjunctive negation jm.f sdm (§ 18.15). It is found in older Middle Egyptian texts, as a survival from Old Egyptian.

5) jwt (§ 21.5)

The negative word jwt is the noun-clause counterpart of the negative particle nj. In Old Egyptian it was used to allow a number of the constructions negated by nj to serve as noun clauses, but in Middle Egyptian it is not common.

6) jwtj (§ 22.8)

The negative relative jwtj is a nisbe of jwt and serves as the relative-clause counterpart of the negative particles nj and nn in a few constructions:

in the expressions jwtj-n.f and jwtj-sw “have-not” and with a following noun or infinitive—relative-clause counterpart of nn as a negation of existence

with the sdm.f or sdm.n.f—relative-clause counterpart of nj sdm.f and nj sdm.n.f

7) jm and m

The negative words jm and m are the sdm.f and imperative, respectively, of the negative verb jmj, the only two forms in which this defective verb appears (§ 12.7). Both are used with the negatival complement. The construction jm.f sdm is used mainly as the negation of the sdm.f as a wish or command in main clauses (§ 18.15). The imperative m sdm is the negative counterpart of the imperative (§ 15.4).

8) tm

The negative tm is a 2-lit. verb meaning “fail to do” and is occasionally used with that meaning, but more often it serves as a negative counterpart of various verb forms instead of a verb in its own right. It is followed by the negatival complement or the infinitive (the latter usually in texts later than the Middle Kingdom). The verb tm serves as negative counterpart of:

the infinitive (§§ 13.16, 13.18)

the sdm.f—in particular kinds of clauses and constructions (§§ 18.15, 25.11)

the sdm.k.f (§ 19.12)

the relative sdm.f and sdm.n.f (§ 22.23)

the participles and the sdmtj.fj (§§ 23.14, 24.8).

The sdm.ḫr.f and sdmt.f are also negated by tm, but examples are quite rare. In each of its uses tm takes the same form as that of the verb form it negates.

In addition to these negative words, Middle Egyptian also has a negative interjection m bj, meaning “no” (§ 15.8.3).

ESSAY 26. GRAMMATICAL THEORY

If you have made your way through either of the first two editions of this book, you will realize that there are some very substantial differences between those editions and this one in the way the verbal system is explained. That is because our understanding of Middle Egyptian, and its ancestor, Old Egyptian, has undergone considerable revision just in the past few years.

The first grammars of the Egyptian language were written in the early nineteenth century, not long after the hieroglyphs themselves were deciphered, and our understanding of Egyptian grammar has been evolving ever since. Those original grammars depended greatly on Coptic, since that stage of the language had been known even before the hieroglyphic texts could be read. As the study of Egyptian progressed, scholars began to realize that earlier stages of the language were quite different from Coptic. We now know that written Egyptian passed through five major stages in its historical evolution, from Old Egyptian to Coptic (§ 1.2).

It was not until the middle of the twentieth century that the distinction between Old and Middle Egyptian was fully described. Egyptologists are still refining our understanding of Middle Egyptian grammar, particularly in the area of its greatest complexity, the verbal system. In the process there have been historically three major schools of thought about how the verbal system of Middle Egyptian works.

The earliest approach was conditioned by the belief that Egyptian was essentially a Semitic language (§ 1.1). There are, in fact, many features that Egyptian shares with its Asiatic relatives: in particular, some of its verb and noun roots and its pronouns; its use of two genders, with the feminine marked by the ending –t; its system of number and the endings used to denote the plural and dual; and its stative form. Historically, the verbal system of most Semitic languages has a primary distinction between two kinds of forms, sometimes labeled “perfective” and “imperfective.” Those labels were adopted for the Egyptian verbal system and applied to three of its categories: the sdm.f, the participles, and the relative forms. Although the labels themselves are in some ways less than ideal, they have proved to be a useful way of analyzing and describing one of the major distinctions between different forms of the participles, and so have been almost universally accepted for this category.

Until about 1970, most Egyptologists analyzed the sdm.f semantically, on the basis of meaning. The chief proponent of this approach was a British Egyptologist, Alan H. Gardiner. In 1927 Gardiner published a monumental study of Middle Egyptian, whose third edition is still in print and remains the primary reference tool for this phase of the language.¹ Gardiner’s grammar recognizes two basic forms of the active sdm.f, “perfective” and “imperfective,” distinguished largely by the use of the geminated stem in the imperfective sdm.f, as in the attributive forms—e.g., perfective m.f and mr.f vs. imperfective m.f and mrr.f. In the last edition of his grammar, Gardiner conceded that his perfective sdm.f probably concealed more than one form, but he still attempted to explain the uses of the sdm.f primarily on the basis of an aspectual distinction between perfective and imperfective forms like that seen to exist in the attributive forms. Gardiner even went beyond mere similarity, arguing that the perfective and imperfective sdm.f derived historically from the perfective and imperfective passive participles.

A second method of understanding the sdm.f began in 1884, when the German Egyptologist Adolf Erman published an article in which he identified the rdj sdm.f construction as the ancestor of the Coptic t–causative (§ 21.3). Erman called the sdm.f in this construction a “dependent” form, meaning that he understood it as expressing not a particular meaning, such as perfective or imperfective, but a specific syntactic use: in this case, the object of rdj. Erman’s syntactic analysis languished in the shadow of the dominant semantic approach until 1944, when another German (later, Israeli) scholar of ancient Egyptian grammar, Hans Jakob Polotsky, published a ground-breaking study of the Coptic “Second Tenses.”

Fig. 21. Three giants of ancient Egyptian grammar studies

Coptic has two different forms for some of its verbal categories, generally known as “First Tenses” and “Second Tenses”: for example, the First Perfect afsvtm and the Second Perfect ntafsvtm, both of which mean “he heard” or “he has heard.” The existence of these separate forms was not in question, but the reason for their existence was unknown. Polotsky discovered that the Second Tenses were consistently used in emphatic sentences, where the interest was not on the verb but on an adverbial adjunct, while the First Tenses were used in normal, non-emphatic statements. A good example is the following:

As long as you did it (First Perfect atetnaas) to one of the least of these brothers, you did it (Second Perfect ntatetnaas) to me (Matt. 25:40),

where the verb in the second clause simply repeats that of the first clause and the rheme is the prepositional phrase “to me.” Since Coptic is simply the latest phase of Egyptian, Polotsky also reasoned that similar uses might underlie some of the formal distinctions that could be observed in earlier stages of the language. In the same study he was able to show that Gardiner’s imperfective sdm.f was in fact used in many of the same kinds of sentences as the Coptic Second Tenses. Polotsky argued that this verb form was not simply an imperfective form of the sdm.f but a non-attributive use of the imperfective relative sdm.f.

Because the relative sdm.f was understood as a nominal form of the verb, Polotsky analyzed the emphatic sentence on the basis of the adverbial sentence. He saw the non-attributive relative form as the nominal subject of an adverbial predicate: i.e.,

| SUBJECT | PREDICATE
Adverbial | r | m pt
Sentence | The Sun | (is) in the sky.
Emphatic | ḫ r | m pt
Sentence | That the Sun appears | (is) in the sky.

Although Polotsky retained the analysis of the verb forms in such emphatic sentences as non-attributive uses of the relative forms, other Egyptologists identified them as special nominal forms of the sdm.f because they are also found in noun clauses (§ 21.6). Gardiner’s imperfective sdm.f thus became the “nominal” or “emphatic” sdm.f, and the sdm.n.f was divided into two forms, the “nominal” or “emphatic” sdm.n.f and the “regular” sdm.n.f; the ungeminated relative sdm.f was not generally recognized as a nominal or emphatic form. As with Erman’s “dependent” sdm.f, this was a syntactic analysis. Regardless of whether the “emphatic” sdm.f was understood as a separate nominal form or as a nonattributive relative form, its use was analyzed on the basis of function (to serve as the nominal subject of an adverbial predicate) rather than meaning.

Polotsky went on to propose a new understanding of non-emphatic constructions as well. Based again on the structure of the adverbial sentence, he analyzed the verb forms in the SUBJECT-stative and SUBJECT-sdm.f constructions as adverbial predicates. The comparison can be illustrated by the following hypothetical examples:

| SUBJECT | PREDICATE
Adverbial | jw r | m pt
Sentence | The Sun | (is) in the sky.
SUBJECT– | jw r | ḫ.(w)
stative | The Sun | (is) appeared.
SUBJECT– | jw r | ḫ.f
sdm.f | The Sun | (is) appearing.

As a result of this analysis, the verb forms used in such constructions, as well as those used in adverb clauses, were identified as adverbial (or “circumstantial”) forms of the verb. Particles such as jw and introductory words such as ḥ.n and wn.jn were seen as converters allowing such adverbial forms to function as the predicate of a main clause. Forms appearing without such converters were analyzed as either adverbial or nominal. Thus, for example, the sdm.n.f after jw, ḥ.n, or wn.jn was seen as an adverbial form serving as the predicate of a main clause, while the sdm.n.f standing at the head of its clause without such introductory words was understood as either adverbial (the predicate of a circumstantial clause) or a nominal/emphatic form.

In place of Gardiner’s perfective and imperfective sdm.f, Polotsky and his followers eventually posited four forms of the active sdm.f, based primarily on criteria of their syntactic use:

indicative—used in the Middle Egyptian negation nj sdm.f and in main clauses as a past tense

circumstantial—used in the SUBJECT–sdm.f construction and adverb clauses, largely with gnomic or present meaning

prospective—Erman’s “dependent” form, used after rdj, in wishes or commands, and as a future

nominal—used in noun clauses and emphatic sentences.

The existence of a separate passive sdm.f was also universally recognized. A sixth form was added in the 1950s, when the active sdm.f with the ending –w was proposed as a distinct form of the sdm.f, called the “sdmw.f ”; this came to be seen as either a future form of the sdm.f or a nominal counterpart of the prospective. The geminated passive sdm.f, or sdmm.f, was later recognized as a distinct passive counterpart of the sdmw.f.

In the 1970s and 1980s, Polotsky’s method of syntactic analysis, and the seven forms of the sdm.f that it included, replaced Gardiner’s system as the dominant model of the Middle Egyptian verbal system, so much so that it became known as the “Standard Theory” of Egyptian grammar. Already in the 1980s, however, scholars began to realize that neither the semantic nor the syntactic approach was totally satisfactory as a way of understanding the verbal system. While the semantic school was rightly criticized for ignoring syntactic function as a criterion of analysis, the syntactic approach also came to be seen as too “mechanical,” dismissing meaning as a factor of usage. Moreover, a number of scholars pointed out that syntactic function does not necessarily involve a difference in form: since nouns can be used as adverbs (§ 8.14) and prepositional phrases as nouns (§ 17.7, last example), adverbial or nominal use of a verb form is not necessarily evidence for the existence of distinct adverbial or nominal forms of the verb.

Since the 1990s, scholars have been working to find a new analysis of the Middle Egyptian verbal system that takes meaning as well as syntactic function into account. That “post-Polotskyan” approach was the basis of the first two editions of this book. Those editions followed the standard division of the sdm.f into four active and two passive forms, albeit with different names:

perfective (the indicative of the Standard Theory)

imperfective (circumstantial)

subjunctive (prospective)

prospective (the “sdmw.f ”)

prospective passive (the sdmm.f )

passive.

The nominal sdm.f of the Standard Theory was presented as the relative sdm.f used non-attributively, following Polotsky’s original analysis. The use of those seven forms, however, was described in terms of meaning rather than, or as well as, syntax: the use of the “imperfective” sdm.f in adverb clauses of concomitant circumstance, for example, was explained as a function of the form’s meaning (incomplete action) rather than by interpreting it as a form specifically marked for adverbial function. In keeping with more recent scholarship, the emphatic use of the non-attributive relative forms was described in terms of their thematic function rather than Polotsky’s analysis of them as the nominal subject of an adverbial predicate.

Most recently, however, it has become clear that two unwarranted assumptions underlie that approach: first, that a difference in meaning should necessarily correspond to a difference in form; and second, that gemination is an inflectional feature rather than a lexical one. This new edition represents an attempt to describe the verbal system of ancient Egyptian without such assumptions.

The first two editions of this book present a table like the following, which shows the paradigm of the six supposed non-relative forms of the sdm.f. ²

| PERF. | IMPERF. | SUBJ. | PROSP. | PROSP. PASSIVE | PASSIVE
2-lit. dd “say” | dd | j–dd | j–dd | dd | ddd | dd–w
2ae-gem. tmm “close” | tm, mn* | tmm | tm, mn* | tmm | tmm | tm
3-lit. nḥm “remove” | nḥm | nḥm | nḥm | nḥm | nḥmm | nḥm–w
3ae-inf. jtj “take” | jt | jt–y | jt–y, jnt* | jt–w/y | jt–w/y | jt–w/y
4/5-lit. gmgm “crack” | gmgm | gmgm | gmgm | gmgm–w | gmgm–w | gmgm–w
4ae-inf. ndrj “grab” | ndr | ndr–y | ndr–y | ndr–w/y | ndrr | ndr–w
caus. 2/3/4-lit. sḫr “fell” | sḫr | sḫr | sḫr | sḫr–w/y | sḫr–w/y | sḫr–w
caus. 2ae-gem. sqbb “cool” | sqbb | sqbb | sqbb | sqbb–w/y | sqbb–w/y | sqbb–w
caus. 3/4ae-inf. shj “bring down” | sh | sh–y | sh–y | sh–w/y | sh–w/y | sh–w
anom. rdj “give, put, cause” | rdj | dj | dj | rdj–w/y | rdj–w/y | rdj–w/y dj–w/y
anom. jwj/jj “come” | jj, jw | jw, jy, jj | jwt* | jw–y | — | —

What is clear from this table is that there is not a lot of difference between the forms: in most verb classes, they all look alike except for the occasional prefix or ending, and the fact that those features are rare and optional indicates that they are not significant. There are only a few really obvious differences:

base vs. geminated stems in the 2ae-gem. class: perfective and subjunctive tm vs. imperfective and prospective tmm

the two base stems of rdj: perfective and prospective rdj vs. imperfective and subjunctive dj

the geminated prospective passive forms of 2-lit., 3-lit., and some 4ae-inf. verbs.

Of these, only the first is really significant. The two base stems of rdj both appear in other forms (for example, the passive sdm.f in the table above) without any apparent difference in meaning or use, and there are enough exceptions to the distribution of the two in the active sdm.f to indicate that they probably do not reflect a difference in form there either (for example, nj dj in later Middle Egyptian texts instead of the usual nj rdj, and in Old Egyptian rdj rdj.f instead of rdj dj.f in the rdj sdm.f construction). The geminated passive forms are limited to Old Egyptian and early Middle Egyptian religious texts; their precise significance remains unexplained, though a recent study has argued that they are phonologically conditioned.

If we leave aside for the moment the difference between base and geminated forms of the 2ae-gem. sdm.f, it seems clear that the evidence really supports only one active form of the sdm.f. That is the analysis underlying the presentation of the sdm.f in this book. It may seem incredible that Egyptian would use only a single verb form to express so many different meanings, as we have seen in Lesson 18: past/perfect, gnomic, and future or subjunctive. That incredulity, however, reflects the bias of the languages most of us are familiar with, such as English, which use different verb forms for those meanings. Other languages are closer to the Egyptian model presented here. Modern Egyptian Arabic, for example, uses a single form, the imperfect, with a range of meanings similar to those of the active sdm.f:

Tišrab šây? “Do you drink tea?” (gnomic)

Tišrab šây! “You should drink tea!” (subjunctive)

Ruḥt tišrab šây? “Did you go to drink tea?” (purpose)

Šuftak tišrab šây “I saw you drinking tea” (concomitant circumstance).

The analysis of the active sdm.f as a single verb form is therefore not inconceivable.³ As far as can be seen in writing, Late Egyptian and Demotic, too, have only a single active sdm.f, with much less variation in form than its Middle Egyptian ancestor.

The clear difference between base and geminated forms in the 2ae-gem. sdm.f, however, would seem to argue for two forms of the sdm.f, particularly since there seems to be a parallel dichotomy in the relative sdm.f and the participles: i.e.,

| BASE | GEMINATED |
sdm.f | m.f | m.f | “he sees”
participle | mt | mt | “she who sees, she who is seen”
relative | mt.f | mt.f | “she whom he sees.”

This is only true, however, if gemination is an inflectional feature: that is, a feature that appears in certain verb forms. Gemination has always been understood as such, but in fact there is no reason why it could not be a lexical feature instead: that is, a modification of the root similar to reduplication (as in sn “kiss” → snsn “fraternize”) or the causative stem (e.g., m “see” → sm “cause to see”). In that case, m.f and m.f need not represent distinct forms of the sdm.f, just as m.f and sm.f do not.

This means that there is not really any solid evidence for more than one form of the active sdm.f. In addition, it means that the traditional distinction between perfective (base) and imperfective (geminated) forms of the participles and relative sdm.f also has no basis: there is only one active participle, one passive participle, and one relative sdm.f, and the “imperfective” forms are merely the participle of the geminated stem. We don’t know why the geminated stem of verbs other than those of the 2ae-gem. class is visible in the attributives and some uses of the active sdm.f, but its absence in writing does not necessarily mean that it didn’t exist in the spoken language: pr.f “he emerges,” for example, could represent both ungeminated *piriáf and geminated *pirriáf (see § 2.8.2). The geminated stem does appear sporadically in other verb forms that represent only a single form, such as the stative (e.g., h.w and h.w, § 16.3), and Coptic preserves evidence of a geminated infinitive of some verbs as well as the usual base form: for example, prt “to emerge” representing both *pírit > pire and *pírriat > prrie. When the geminated stem is shown in writing, it may reflect only a difference in pronunciation (§ 21.6): e.g., pr.f representing *pirriáf and prr.f representing *piríriaf.

A further distinction between earlier editions of this book and this one is the description of the sdm.f and sdm.n.f used in noun clauses and emphatic sentences. The earlier editions identified these, after Polotsky, as non-attributive relative forms. Even though Late Egyptian, Demotic, and Coptic clearly have such forms, however, it is not certain that Old and Middle Egyptian did. Except for the gender/number endings attached to it in attributive use (§ 22.12), the sdm.n.f shows absolutely no difference in form, regardless of usage. For the sdm.f, only the geminated form of some verbs could be evidence for a distinct nominal (or non-attributive relative) form, and this can be explained without assuming the existence of such a form. Moreover, it is clear that Middle Egyptian can use other constructions, such as SUBJECT–stative, in both nominal and non-nominal environments without any difference in form.

The current theory of Egyptian grammar is still in the process of formation, and the years following the publication of this book will undoubtedly see more advances and refinement in our understanding of Middle Egyptian. Although the “Standard Theory” is increasingly regarded as outmoded, some Egyptologists still adhere to it, and you should be aware of this when you read other grammatical studies. This discussion and the lessons in this book should give you enough information to allow you to make up your own mind on the question.

WHERE TO GO FROM HERE

This book was written to give you a fundamental understanding of the essentials of Middle Egyptian grammar based on the most recent advances in grammatical theory. It was also written because, when the first edition was published, there were very few such grammars in English intended specifically for the serious beginner, other than Gardiner’s Egyptian Grammar.

The basic reference book for Middle Egyptian remains Gardiner’s grammar (see n. 1, above). That book is still in print, and if you intend to continue working with Middle Egyptian texts you owe it to yourself to have your own copy. Its grammatical theory is now outdated but it is still unmatched in depth and detail, including a number of the more unusual constructions not included in the current book. Another grammar written in English and directed at the beginning student is James E. Hoch’s Middle Egyptian Grammar (Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities Publications, 15; Mississauga: Benben Publications, 1996), which uses the Standard Theory approach. A handy summary of the main points of Middle Egyptian can be found in Gertie Englund’s Middle Egyptian, an Introduction, 2nd ed. (Uppsala: Uppsala University, Department of Egyptology, 1995). A very popular and extremely accessible introduction to basic Middle Egyptian is How to Read Egyptian Hieroglyphs: a Step-by-Step Guide to Teach Yourself, by Mark Collier, Bill Manley, and Richard Parkinson, revised edition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003). More recently, a new grammar was published in English, which rivals Gardiner’s in detail but uses a modified Standard Theory approach: Joris F. Borghouts’s Egyptian: an Introduction to the Writing and Language of the Middle Kingdom, 2 vols. (Egyptologische Uitgaven 24; Leuven and Leiden: Peeters and Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 2010).

One thing you will learn if you continue studying Egyptian is that many Egyptological studies are written in French and German. In fact, universities require a reading knowledge of both these languages in their Egyptological curricula. If you read French, a good counterpart to Gardiner is Gustave Lefebvre’s Grammaire de l’Égyptien classique, 2nd ed. (Bibliothèque d’étude, 12; Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1955). Although this book is as outdated as Gardiner’s in theory and is not as detailed, it is much better organized and easier to use. For German readers, an excellent introductory grammar is Erhart Graefe’s Mittelägyptisch: Grammatik für Anfänger, 5th ed. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1997). For French speakers there is also Cours d’égyptien hiéroglyphique, by Pierre Grandet and Bernard Mathieu (Paris: Khéops, 2003), and a more recent counterpart to Gardiner’s grammar by Michel Malaise and Jean Winand, Grammaire raisonnée de l’égyptien classique (Aegyptiaca Leodiensia 6; Liège: Centre Informatique de Philosophie et Lettres, 1999).

The fundamental dictionary of Egyptian is the Wörterbuch der Aegyptischen Sprache, by Adolf Erman and Hermann Grapow (Berlin, 1971), in seven volumes with five volumes of references. As you may imagine, this work can be found only in specialized Egyptological libraries and those of professional Egyptologists; an online version can be found at http://aaew2.bbaw.de/tla/servlet/TlaLogin. There is a smaller, one-volume dictionary, in English, that is based specifically on Middle Egyptian texts and is still in print: Raymond O. Faulkner, A Concise Dictionary of Middle Egyptian (Oxford, 1988). For German readers there is also Rainer Hannig’s Großes Handwörterbuch Ägyptisch-Deutsch (Kulturgeschichte der Antiken Welt, 64; Mainz, 1995). Also in one volume, this is much more comprehensive than Faulkner’s dictionary, including special lists of the names of gods, kings, and places; Hannig has also published a more extensive, two-volume dictionary of Middle Egyptian, Ägyptisches Wörterbuch II: Mittleres Reich und Zweite Zwischenzeit, 2 vols. (Kulturgeschichte der Antiken Welt 112; Mainz, 2006). Some grammars also include limited dictionaries, such as the one in the present book.

There are as few generally available collections of hieroglyphic texts as there are grammars and dictionaries. Two of the best are Adrian de Buck’s Egyptian readingbook, 2nd ed. (Leiden, 1963), and Kurt Sethe’s Ägyptische Lesestücke, 3rd ed. (Hildesheim, 1959). A number of individual texts are also available in hieroglyphic transcription: A. M. Blackman, Middle Egyptian Stories (Bibliotheca Aegyptiaca 2; Brussels, 1932), and The Story of King Kheops and the Magicians, ed. by W. V. Davies (Reading, 1988); Roland Koch, Die Erzählung des Sinuhe (Bibliotheca Aegyptiaca, 17; Brussels, 1990); Richard B. Parkinson, The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant (Oxford, 1991). A number of wisdom texts have been edited by Wolfgang Helck in the series “Kleine Ägyptische Texte” (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz), including the Instruction of Amenemhat, the Instruction for King Merikare, the Satire of the Trades, the Prophecy of Neferti, and the Admonitions of Ipuwer.

These publications only include the texts themselves. Several good English translations of Egyptian literature are readily available, including William Kelly Simpson, ed., The Literature of Ancient Egypt: an Anthology of Stories, Instructions, Stelae, Autobiographies, and Poetry, 3rd ed. (New Haven and London, 2003); Miriam Lichtheim, Ancient Egyptian Literature, Vol. 1: The Old and Middle Kingdoms (Berkeley, 1973); Richard B. Parkinson, The Tale of Sinuhe and Other Ancient Egyptian Poems 1940–1640 BC (Oxford, 1997); and Stephen Quirke, Egyptian Literature 1800 BC, Questions and Readings (London, 2004). It is a good idea to use a number of such translations when you work with Middle Egyptian texts, to see how different Egyptologists have understood them.

As you have probably already discovered, the only books on Egyptian language or texts that can be found in most bookstores are reprints of works by E. A. W. Budge, which were not too reliable when they first appeared and are now woefully outdated. Many Egyptologists rely on book dealers specializing in current Egyptological publications, especially Wiley-Blackwell (www.wiley.com), Brill (www.brill.nl), David Brown (www.oxbowbooks.com), Cybèle (www.egypt.edu/egypte/egypte.htm), ISD Books (www.isdistribution.com), Eisenbraun’s (www.eisenbrauns.com), and Museum Books (www.museumbooks.demon.co.uk).

There are a number of sites that can provide you with information and links to other reputable Egyptological resources, including one at Cambridge University (www.fitzmuseum.cam.ac.uk/er). Also check out the Egyptologists’ Electronic Forum (http://www.egyptologyforum.org). The Ancient Egyptian Language discussion group is especially devoted to beginners studying Middle Egyptian (including earlier editions of this book); you can find it on the web at www.rostau.org.uk/AEgyptian-L/index.html. An excellent free program for composing hieroglyphic texts on the computer is available online at jsesh.qenherkhopeshef.org/en/download.

The best way to find other resources and to keep in touch with what is happening in Egyptian studies is through the national Egyptological societies, such as the American Research Center in Egypt (www.arce.org), the (Canadian) Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities (www.thessea.org), and the (British) Egypt Exploration Society (www.ees.ac.uk). There are similar national societies in most countries. Most of them publish a newsletter and an annual journal of Egyptological studies, and welcome individual members, amateur as well as professional.

*****

Finally, if you have made it through all of these lessons, congratulations! The course has not always been easy, and sometimes was probably frustrating, but in the end it is worth the time and effort you put into it. With the foundation you have learned here, you can now go on to begin reading the ancient texts for yourself. No matter how much grammar you study, reading texts is ultimately the best way to learn Egyptian. The more you read, the easier you will find it. And the reward is discovering for yourself the thoughts of people who lived thousands of years ago but whose hopes and dreams were not all that different from our own.

1 Sir Alan Gardiner, Egyptian Grammar, 3d ed., revised (Oxford: Griffith Institute, and London: Oxford University Press, 1957). The book remains in print thanks to a subsidy from Gardiner’s estate.

2 In the table, a dash (–) follows or precedes optional features: for example, j–dd indicates that the form can be j.dd rather than dd, and jt–w/y means that the form can occasionally have a final w or y. An asterisk (*) marks forms peculiar to one particular verb.

3 It could even be argued that the passive sdm.f represents only a passive use of the same form, but its geminated variant and more common ending –w argue for a separate form. The existence of a distinct passive participle also argues for a similar distinction in the sdm.f.

SIGN LIST

Listed below are the hieroglyphic signs most often found in Middle Egyptian texts, arranged into twenty-six groups on the basis of what they depict. The selection and order are those most commonly used by Egyptologists, based on the list in Gardiner’s Egyptian Grammar, with some additional signs.¹ Each sign is identified as to what it depicts (insofar as possible) and its uses, whether phonogram, ideogram, or determinative, arranged in order of frequency; words in small capitals indicate the class of words with which a sign is used as determinative. At the end of the sign list is a supplemental list of signs arranged by shape.

A. HUMAN BEINGS, MALE

A 1 | [picture] | Seated man. Phonogram j (1s suffix pronoun). Determinative MAN; also in 1s pronouns jnk, wj, .kw/kj. Ideogram for zj “man” or rḥw “companion.” With B1 and plural strokes, determinative PEOPLE and ideogram for rmt “people.”
A 2 | [picture] | Man with hand to mouth. Determinative SPEAK, THINK, EAT, DRINK, and for emotions such as LOVE and HATE.
A 68 | [picture] | Man exclaiming.Variant of A2.
A 84 | [picture] | Man with hand to mouth.Variant of A2.
A 3 | [picture] | Man sitting on heel. Determinative SIT.
A 4 | [picture] | Man with hands raised. Determinative WORSHIP; also HIDE (for A5).
A 5 | [picture] | Man hiding behind wall.Variant Determinative HIDE.
A 6 | [picture] | A1 + W54.Variant of D60
A 7 | [picture] | Fatigued man. Determinative WEARY, WEAK, SOFT, also SIT.
A 8 | [picture] | Man beating his chest. Determinative in hnw “jubilation.”
A 9 | [picture] | Man with basket on head. Determinative LOAD, CARRY, WORK. Ideogram for tp “load,” fj “carry, lift,” kt “work.”
A 119 | [picture] | A9 with I9 in place of basket. Ideogram for fj “carry, lift.”
A 10 | [picture] | Man with oar. Determinative SAIL, ROW.
A 11 | [picture] | Man with scepter and crook. Determinative FRIEND.
A 12 | [picture] | Soldier. Determinative SOLDIER. Ideogram with plural strokes for mš “expeditionary force, army.”
A 13 | [picture] | Prisoner. Determinative ENEMY.
A 14 | [picture] | Wounded man. Determinative DIE, ENEMY.
A 14a | [picture] | Variant of A14.
A 15 | [picture] | Man falling. Determinative FALL, DIE. Ideogram for ḫr “fall.”
A 97 | [picture] | Variant of A15.
A 16 | [picture] | Man bowing. Determinative BOW.
A 17 | [picture] | Child. Determinative CHILD,YOUNG; in hieratic also SIT (for A3). Ideogram for hrd “child.” Phonogram nnj “child” in nnj-nswt “Herakleopolis.”
A 17a | [picture] | Variant of A17.
A 18 | [picture] | Child with Red Crown. Determinative CHILD-KING.
A 19 | [picture] | Determinative OLD, DISTINGUISHED. Ideogram for jw “old,” smsw “eldest,” wr “great, chief.” Phonogram jk in jky “miner” (from jk “age”). In hieratic sometimes for A25
A 20 | [picture] | Old man with forked staff.Variant of A19. Determinative in smsw “elder,” also ideogram for same.
A 21 | [picture] | Dignitary. Determinative DIGNITARY. Ideogram for srj “official.” Variant of A11 and A22. In hieroglyphic not always distinguishable from A19–20.
A 22 | [picture] | Statue on Base. Determinative STATUE. The form often varies.
A 23 | [picture] | King. Determinative KING.
A 24 | [picture] | Man striking. Determinative FORCE, EFFORT. Ideogram for nḫt “force.”
A 25 | [picture] | Man striking. Determinative in ḥwj “hit”; often (striking phonogram).
A 59 | [picture] | Man threatening. Determinative DRIVE OFF.
A 26 | [picture] | Man beckoning. Determinative CALL. Ideogram for j “oh!” and š “call.”
A 366 | [picture] | Variant of A26.
A 27 | [picture] | Man running. Phonogram jn in particle jn (from jn “messenger”).
A 28 | [picture] | Excited man. Determinative HIGH, JOY, MOURN, FRUSTRATION.
A 359 | [picture] | Man with arms clasped. Determinative in ḥsj “freeze.” Also, as man pointing to himself, rare variant of A1
A 29 | [picture] | Man upside down. Determinative INVERT.
A 30 | [picture] | Man worshipping. Determinative WORSHIP, RESPECT.
A 31 | [picture] | Man shunning. Determinative TURN AWAY.
A 32 | [picture] | Man dancing. Determinative DANCE.
A 33 | [picture] | Man with stick and bundle. Determinative in mnjw “herdsman,” also ideogram for same. Determinative WANDER, STRANGER.
A 166 | [picture] | Variant of A33.
A 34 | [picture] | Man pounding. Determinative in ḫwsj “pound, construct.”
A 35 | [picture] | Man building a wall. Determinative in qd “build,” also ideogram for same.
A 36 | [picture] | Variant of A37.
A 37 | [picture] | Man in vat. Determinative in ftj “brewer,” also ideogram for same.
A 38 | [picture] | Man with two animals. Ideogram for qjs/qsj “Qus” (town).
A 39 | [picture] | Man with two giraffes.Variant of A38.
A 40 | [picture] | Seated god. Determinative GOD, KING.Variant of A1 for 1s pronouns when the speaker is a god or the king.
A 41 | [picture] | Seated king. Determinative KING. Variant of A1 for 1s pronouns when the speaker is the king.
A 42 | [picture] | Seated king with flail.Variant of A41
A 43 | [picture] | King with White Crown. Determinative of nswt “king,” also ideogram for same. Determinative of jsjr “Osiris.”
A 44 | [picture] | King with White Crown and flail.Variant of A43.
A 45 | [picture] | King with Red Crown.Variant king,” also ideogram for same. (A46). Determinative of bjtj “hereditary
A 46 | [picture] | King with Red Crown and flail.Variant of A45.
A 47 | [picture] | Shepherd seated. Determinative in zw “guard,” also ideogram for same. Ideogram for mnjw “herdsman.” Sometimes variant of A48.
A 48 | [picture] | Seated man with knife. Phonogram jr in the nisbe jrj “pertaining to.”
A 49 | [picture] | Foreigner with stick. Determinative FOREIGNER.
A 50 | [picture] | Man on chair. Determinative DIGNITARY, DECEASED.Variant of A1 pronouns when the speaker is deceased. Also variant of A51. for 1s
A 51 | [picture] | Man on chair, with flail. Determinative in špsj/špss “noble,” also ideogram for same. Determinative DIGNITARY, DECEASED.
A 52 | [picture] | Seated man with flail. Determinative DIGNITARY, DECEASED.
A 53 | [picture] | Mummy standing. Determinative MUMMY, STATUE, LIKENESS, FORM. Ideogram for twt “likeness, statue.”
A 54 | [picture] | Mummy recumbent. Determinative DEAD.
A 55 | [picture] | Mummy on bed. Determinative LIE, DEAD. Ideogram for sdr “lie down.” The mummy is sometimes replaced by a man when used in/for sdr “lie down.”

B. HUMAN BEINGS, FEMALE

B 1 | [picture] | Seated woman. Determinative FEMALE. Rarely variant of A1 speaker is female. when the
B 24 | [picture] | Standing woman.Variant of B1.
B 2 | [picture] | Pregnant woman. Determinative PREGNANT.
B 3 | [picture] | Woman giving birth. Determinative in msj “give birth,” also ideogram for same.
B 4 | [picture] | Variant of B3.
B 5 | [picture] | Woman nursing. Determinative in mnt “nurse.”
B 6 | [picture] | Nurse with child. Determinative in rnn “rear, foster.”
B 7 | [picture] | Seated queen. Determinative in queens’ names.

C. ANTHROPOMORPHIC GODS

C 1 | [picture] | God with sun-disk. Determinative in r “Re,” also ideogram for same.
C 2 | [picture] | Variant of C1, falcon-headed.
C 3 | [picture] | Ibis-headed. Determinative in dḥwtj “Thoth,” also ideogram for same.
C 4 | [picture] | Ram-headed. Determinative in hnmw “Khnum,” also ideogram for same.
C 5 | [picture] | Variant of C4.
C 6 | [picture] | Jackal-headed. Determinative in jnpw “Anubis” and wp-wwt “Wepwawet,” also ideogram for same.
C 7 | [picture] | Seth-animal-headed. Determinative in sth/stš “Seth,” also ideogram for same
C 8 | [picture] | Min figure. Determinative in mnw “Min,” also ideogram for same.
C 9 | [picture] | Goddess with horned disk. Determinative in ḥwt-ḥrw “Hathor,” also ideogram for same.
C 10 | [picture] | Goddess with feather. Determinative in mt “Maat” (as goddess), also ideogram for same.
C 10a | [picture] | Variant of C10.
C 175a | [picture] | Variant of C10.
C 11 | [picture] | ḥḥ-figure. Ideogram for ḥḥ “million” (§ 9.1) and “Heh” (god supporting the sky).
C 12 | [picture] | Amun figure. Determinative in jnmw “Amun,” also ideogram for same.
C 17 | [picture] | Montu figure. Determinative in mntw “Montu,” also ideogram for same.
C 18 | [picture] | Tatjenen figure. Determinative in t-tnnj “Tatjenen,” also ideogram for same.
C 19 | [picture] | Ptah figure. Determinative in ptḥ “Ptah,” also ideogram for same.
C 20 | [picture] | Ptah figure in shrine.Variant of C19.

D. PARTS OF THE HUMAN BODY

D 1 | [picture] | Head. Ideogram for dp and dd “head.” Phonogram dp in dpj “first.” Determinative HEAD.
D 2 | [picture] | Face. Ideogram for ḥr “face.” Phonogram ḥr.
D 3 | [picture] | Hair. Determinative HAIR, SKIN, COLOR; also words associated with hair: BALD, MOURN, WIDOW. Ideogram for wš “missing.”
D 4 | [picture] | Eye. Phonogram jr. Determinative for actions associated with the eye. Ideogram for jrt “eye.”
D 5 | [picture] | Eye with paint. Determinative for actions associated with the eye.
D 6 | [picture] | Variant of D5.
D 7 | [picture] | Eye with paint. Determinative ADORN. Also determinative in n “beautiful” and nw “Tura” (quarry near Cairo), from the Semitic root jn “eye.”
D 7a | [picture] | Variant of D5.
D 140 | [picture] | Two eyes. Determinative in ptr “see, look,” also ideogram for same.
D 8 | [picture] | Eye enclosed.Variant of D7 as determinative in n “beautiful” and nw “Tura.”
D 9 | [picture] | Eye weeping. Determinative in rmj “weep,” also ideogram for same.
D 10 | [picture] | Eye with falcon markings. Determinative in wdt “Sound Eye (of Horus),” also ideogram for same.
D 11 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/2 heqat (§ 9.7.4).
D 12 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/4 heqat (§ 9.7.4). Also determinative in dfd “pupil” and m “see,” the latter as variant of D4.
D 13 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/8 heqat (§ 9.7.4). Also determinative EYEBROW.
D 14 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/16 heqat (§ 9.7.4).
D 15 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/32 heqat (§ 9.7.4).
D 16 | [picture] | Part of D10. Ideogram for ¹/64 heqat (§ 9.7.4).
D 17 | [picture] | D15 + D16. Determinative of tjt “image,” also ideogram for same.
D 18 | [picture] | Ear. Determinative in msdr “ear,” also ideogram for same.
D 19 | [picture] | Face in profile. Determinative NOSE, FACE, and associated actions. Ideogram for fnd “nose.” Phonogram ḫnt. In hieratic not always distinguishable from U31 or Aa32
D 20 | [picture] | Variant of D19.
D 21 | [picture] | Mouth. Phonogram r. Ideogram for r “mouth.”
D 154 | [picture] | Mouth plus water. Determinative in jw-r “breakfast,” also ideogram for same.
D 22 | [picture] | Mouth plus 2 strokes. Ideogram for rwj ²/3 (§ 9.6).
D 23 | [picture] | Mouth plus 3 strokes. Ideogram for ḫmt-rw ³/4 (§ 9.6).
D 24 | [picture] | Lip with teeth. Determinative in spt “lip,” also ideogram for same. Sometimes in error for F42
D 24a | [picture] | Variant of D24.
D 25 | [picture] | Two lips and teeth. Determinative in sptj “lips,” also ideogram for same.
D 26 | [picture] | Lips and water. Determinative SPIT, SPEW.
D 27 | [picture] | Breast. Determinative BREAST, NURSE. Ideogram for mnd “breast.”
D 27a | [picture] | Variant of D27.
D 28 | [picture] | Two arms. Phonogram k. Ideogram for k “ka.”
D 29 | [picture] | Two arms on standard.Variant of D28.
D 30 | [picture] | Two arms and tail. Determinative in nḥb-kw “Assigner of Kas” (a god).
D 31 | [picture] | D32 + U36. Ideogram for ḥm-k “ka-servant” (mortuary priest).Variant
D 32 | [picture] | Two arms embracing. Determinative EMBRACE, OPEN. Variant in hieratic.
D 33 | [picture] | Arms and oar. Phonogram hn (from hnj “row”).
D 34 | [picture] | Arms with shield and mace. Ideogram for ḥ “fight.”
D 34a | [picture] | OK–MK variant of D34.
D 35 | [picture] | Gesture of negation. Ideogram for nj “not” and phonogram nj or n (§ 8.2.6), especially in nn “not”; jw or jwt in jwt “that not” and jwtj “which not” (§§ 20.5, 20.16). Determinative NEGATION.
D 36 | [picture] | Forearm. Phonogram . Ideogram for “arm, hand.” Variant of D37–44.
D 36a | [picture] | Forearm. Ideogram for wj “arms, hands.”
D 212a | [picture] | Forearm with water. Determinative in jj “wash,” also ideogram for same.
D 37 | [picture] | Forearm with X8. Phonogram dj in forms of rdj “give.” Also variant of D38.
D 38 | [picture] | Forearm with bread. Phonogram mj. Determinative in jmj “give!” (§ 15.2.3).
D 39 | [picture] | Forearm with pot. Determinative OFFER. Sometimes variant of D37–38.
D 218a | [picture] | Forearm with O43. Ideogram for šzp “receive.”
D 40 | [picture] | Forearm with stick. Determinative ACTION, FORCE, EFFORT. Ideogram for ḫj “measure, evaluate.” Rarely variant of D37.
D 41 | [picture] | Forearm with palm down. Determinative ARM and actions associated with the arm or hand. Ideogram rmn “shoulder.” Phonogram nj.
D 42 | [picture] | Forearm with palm down. Determinative in mḥ “cubit” (§ 9.7.1), also ideogram for same.
D 43 | [picture] | Forearm with flail. Phonogram ḫw.
D 44 | [picture] | Forearm with scepter. Determinative in ḫrp “manage,” also ideogram for same.
D 45 | [picture] | Forearm with brush. Determinative in dsr “sacred, clear away, raise the arm,” also ideogram for same.
D 251 | [picture] | Variant of D45.
D 46 | [picture] | Hand. Phonogram d. Ideogram for drt “hand.”
D 46a | [picture] | Hand with water. Ideogram for jdt “fragrance.”
D 47 | [picture] | Hand. Determinative of drt “hand” when spelled with phonograms.
D 48 | [picture] | Hand without thumb. Ideogram for šzp “palm” (§ 9.7.1).
D 49 | [picture] | Fist. Determinative GRASP.
D 50 | [picture] | Finger. Ideogram for db “finger” and db 10,000 (§ 9.1). When doubled, determinative ACCURATE.
D 51 | [picture] | Finger. Determinative for actions associated with fingers: ḫj “measure,” tj “take,” dqr “press.” Determinative in nt “fingernail,” also ideogram for same. Determinative FRUIT, FLOWER, also ideogram for dqrw “fruit,” qw “flour.”
D 52 | [picture] | Penis. Determinative MALE. Phonogram mt.Variant of D53. With E1, ideogram for k “bull.”
D 53 | [picture] | Penis with fluid. Determinative PENIS and associated actions, also MALE. Determinative of bḥ in m bḥ “in the presence of,” dr bḥ “since,” r bḥ “before,” also ideogram for same.
D 279 | [picture] | Testicles. Determinative in hrwj “testicles,” also ideogram for same.
D 280a | [picture] | Pelvis and vulva. Phonogram ḥm. Ideogram for jdt “vulva, cow.”
D 54 | [picture] | Walking legs Determinative MOTION. Phonogram jw in forms of the verb jjj “come.” Ideogram for nmt/nmtt “step.”
D 55 | [picture] | Legs walking backwards. Determinative REVERSE.
D 56 | [picture] | Leg. Determinative FOOT and associated actions. Ideogram for rd “foot.” Phonogram pd (from pd “knee”). Ideogram for wrt “district” (from wrt “shin”), sbq “excellent” (from sbq “leg”), gḥs “gazelle.”
D 57 | [picture] | Leg with knife. Determinative MUTILATE. Ideogram for jtw “place of execution” and sjt “shorten, short, cheat” (from jt “short”).
D 58 | [picture] | Foot. Phonogram b; also for b(w) “place, thing.”
D 59 | [picture] | D36 + D58. Phonogram b.
D 60 | [picture] | D58 + W54. Ideogram for wb “clean, pure.”
D 61 | [picture] | Stylized toes. Determinative in sḥ “toe; kick, endow,” also ideogram for same.
D 62 | [picture] | Variant of D61.
D 63 | [picture] | Variant of D61.

E. MAMMALS

E 1 | [picture] | Bull. Determinative CATTLE. Ideogram for k “bull, ox” jḥw “cattle.”
E 166 | [picture] | Bulls. Plural of E1.
E 177 | [picture] | Two bulls joined. Determinative in ḫns “go back and forth.”
E 176 | [picture] | Bull tied for slaughter. Determinative rḫs “slaughter,” also ideogram for same. Ideogram for k “bull” as offering.
E 2 | [picture] | Bull charging. Determinative in sm “wild bull.” Ideogram for k in k nḫt “forceful bull” (epithet of the king).
E 3 | [picture] | Calf. Determinative in bḥz “calf” and wndw “short-horned cattle.”
E 4 | [picture] | Sacred cow. Determinative in ḥzt “sacred cow.”
E 5 | [picture] | Cow and calf. Determinative in ms “solicitous.”
E 6 | [picture] | Horse. Determinative HORSE. Ideogram for ssmt “horse.”
E 7 | [picture] | Donkey. Determinative in (originally j) “donkey.”
E 8 | [picture] | Kid. Phonogram jb. Determinative GOAT.
E 8a | [picture] | Variant of E8.
E 9 | [picture] | Newborn bubalis. Phonogram jw.
E 10 | [picture] | Bearded ram. Determinative SHEEP. Ideogram for b “ram,” hnmw “Khnum.”
E 11 | [picture] | Variant of E10, without beard.
E 12 | [picture] | Pig. Determinative PIG.
E 13 | [picture] | Cat. Determinative in mjw/mjt “cat.”
E 14 | [picture] | Dog (saluki). Determinative DOG.
E 15 | [picture] | Jackal recumbent. Determinative in jnpw “Anubis,” also ideogram for same. Ideogram for title ḥrj-sšt “master of secrets.”
E 16 | [picture] | Jackal recumbent on shrine.Variant of E15 for jnpw “Anubis.”
E 17 | [picture] | Jackal. Determinative in zb “jackal; dignitary,” also ideogram for same.
E 18 | [picture] | Jackal on standard. Determinative in wp-wwt “Wepwawet (Parter of the Ways),” also ideogram for same.
E 19 | [picture] | Variant of E18.
E 20 | [picture] | Seth animal. Ideogram for sth/stš “Seth.” Determinative TURMOIL, CHAOS. In hieratic often for E7 and E27.
E 21 | [picture] | More common variant of E20.
E 22 | [picture] | Lion. Determinative in mj “lion,” also ideogram for same.
E 23 | [picture] | Lion recumbent. Phonogram rw (from rw “lion”). In hieratic often for U13
E 128 | [picture] | Two lions joined. Determinative in kr “Horizon (god),” also ideogram for same.
E 24 | [picture] | Leopard. Determinative in by “leopard,” also ideogram for same.
E 25 | [picture] | Hippopotamus. Determinative HIPPOPOTAMUS.
E 26 | [picture] | Elephant. Determinative in bw “elephant.” Ideogram for bw “Elephantine” (in modern Aswan).
E 27 | [picture] | Giraffe. Determinative in sr “foretell.” Determinative in mmj “giraffe,” also ideogram for same.
E 28 | [picture] | Oryx. Determinative in mḥd “oryx.”
E 29 | [picture] | Gazelle. Determinative in gḥs “gazelle.”
E 30 | [picture] | Ibex. Determinative in njw, nrw, nw “ibex.”
E 31 | [picture] | Goat with collar. Determinative in sḥ “privilege,” also ideogram for same.
E 32 | [picture] | Baboon. Determinative BABOON, MONKEY, FURIOUS.
E 33 | [picture] | Monkey. Determinative in gjf “monkey.”
E 34 | [picture] | Hare. Phonogram wn.

F. PARTS OF MAMMALS

F 1 | [picture] | Head of ox. Ideogram for k “cattle” (in offering formulas).
F 63 | [picture] | Variant of F1.
F 2 | [picture] | Head of charging bull. Determinative in dnd “rage.”
F 3 | [picture] | Head of hippopotamus. Determinative in t “power,” and t “moment,” also ideogram for latter.
F 4 | [picture] | Forepart of lion. Ideogram for ḥt “front” and related words.
F 5 | [picture] | Head of bubalis. Determinative in šs “skilled,” and related words, also ideogram for same. Determinative in sš “prayer” and bḫnt “pylon.”
F 6 | [picture] | Variant of F5.
F 7 | [picture] | Head of ram. Determinative in šfyt “awe” (from šft “ram’s head”), also ideogram for same.
F 8 | [picture] | Variant of F7.
F 9 | [picture] | Head of leopard. Determinative in pḥtj “strength,” also ideogram for same (often doubled).
F 10 | [picture] | Head and neck of animal. Determinative NECK, THROAT and related actions.
F 11 | [picture] | Variant of F10.
F 12 | [picture] | Head and neck of jackal. Phonogram wsr.
F 13 | [picture] | Horns. Phonogram wp. Ideogram for wpt “brow.” For see O44.
F 14 | [picture] | F13 + M4. Ideogram for wpt-rnpt “Opening of the Year” (New Year’s Day).
F 15 | [picture] | Variant of F14.
F 16 | [picture] | Horn. Phonogram b. Determinative HORN, also ideogram for same.
F 17 | [picture] | F16 + W54. Determinative in bw “purification,” also ideogram for same.
F 18 | [picture] | Tusk. Determinative TOOTH and associated actions. Phonograms bḥ and ḥw. Determinative in words with root bj.
F 19 | [picture] | Jawbone of ox. Determinative in rt “jaw.”
F 20 | [picture] | Tongue. Phonogram ns. Determinative for actions associated with the tongue. Ideogram for ns “tongue” and jmj-r “overseer” (§ 8.9). Sometimes for Z6.
F 21 | [picture] | Ear of bovine. Phonograms sdm and jdn. Determinative EAR and associated actions. Ideogram for msdr “ear” and drd “leaf.”
F 22 | [picture] | Hindquarters of feline. Phonogram pḥ. Determinative END, BOTTOM. Ideogram for pḥwj “end” and kf “discreet” (from kf “bottom”).
F 23 | [picture] | Foreleg of ox. Determinative in ḫpš “strong arm; foreleg,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in msḫtjw “Foreleg” (Ursa Major).
F 24 | [picture] | Variant of F23.
F 25 | [picture] | Leg and hoof of ox. Phonogram wḥm. Ideogram for wḥm/wḥmt “hoof.”
F 26 | [picture] | Goatskin. Phonogram hn. Ideogram for hnt “hide, skin.”
F 27 | [picture] | Cowskin. Determinative HIDE, MAMMAL. Sometimes for N2
F 28 | [picture] | Cowskin. Phonogram sb in sb “dappled.” Sometimes for U23
F 29 | [picture] | Cowskin with arrow. Determinative of stj “shoot,” also ideogram for same. Phonogram st.
F 30 | [picture] | Water-skin. Phonogram šd.
F 31 | [picture] | Three fox-skins. Phonogram ms.
F 32 | [picture] | Animal’s belly and udder. Phonogram h. Ideogram in ht “belly, body.”
F 33 | [picture] | Tail. Determinative in sd “tail,” also ideogram for same.
F 34 | [picture] | Heart. Ideogram for jb “heart, mind.” Determinative in ḥtj “heart.”
F 35 | [picture] | Heart and windpipe. Phonogram nfr.
F 36 | [picture] | Lung and windpipe. Phonogram zm.
F 37 | [picture] | Spine and ribs. Determinative BACK. Ideogram for jt “back.” Sometimes for M21
F 37b | [picture] | Variant of F37.
F 38 | [picture] | Variant of F37.
F 39 | [picture] | Spine and spinal cord. Determinative in jmḫ “worth, honor” (Essay 21), also ideogram for same. Determinative in jmḫ “spinal cord,” also ideogram for same. Occasionally for F37 as determinative.
F 49 | [picture] | Spine and spinal cord. Phonogram w.
F 41 | [picture] | Vertebrae. Determinative in psd “back.” Variant of Y10
F 42 | [picture] | Rib. Phonogram spr. Determinative in spr “rib,” also ideogram for same.
F 43 | [picture] | Ribs. Determinative in spḥt “ribs.”
F 44 | [picture] | Joint of meat. Determinative in jw “inherit” and related words, also ideogram for same. Phonogram jsw. Determinative in jw “femur,” swt “tibia.”
F 45 | [picture] | Cow uterus. Determinative in jdt “vulva, cow,” also ideogram for same.
F 46 | [picture] | Intestine.Variants (F47), (F48), (F49). Determinative MIDST, TURN, INTESTINE. Determinative in wdb “shore” (from wdb “turn”).
F 50 | [picture] | S29 + F46. Phonogram sphr.
F 51 | [picture] | Piece of meat. Also . Determinative FLESH. Ideogram for kns “vagina” and (tripled) ḥw “body.” Phonogram js in jst “Isis” and jsr “Osiris” in some Coffin Texts.
F 52 | [picture] | Excrement. Determinative in ḥs “excrement.”

G. BIRDS

G 1 | [picture] | Egyptian vulture. Phonogram . Often distinguishable from G4 only by flatter head.
G 2 | [picture] | Two vultures. Phonogram .
G 3 | [picture] | U1 + G1. Phonogram m.
G 4 | [picture] | Buzzard. Phonogram tjw. G4 is often distinguishable from G1 only by rounder head.
G 4a | [picture] | Variant of G4, from hieratic.
G 5 | [picture] | Falcon. Ideogram for ḥrw “Horus.”
G 6 | [picture] | Falcon with flail. Determinative in bjk “falcon.”
G 7 | [picture] | Falcon on standard. Determinative DIVINE. Also variant of A1 when the speaker is a god or the king.
R13 | [picture] | Falcon on standard. Ideogram for jmnt “West” (older form of R14 ).
G 7 | [picture] | Falcon on crescent. Ideogram for nmtj “Nemti” (a god).
G 7b | [picture] | More common variant of G7.
G 8 | [picture] | G5 + S12. Ideogram for bjk nbw “Gold Falcon” (title of the king: Essay 6).
G 9 | [picture] | Falcon with sundisk. Ideogram in r-ḥrw-ḫtj “Re-Harakhti” (Essays 4, 12, 16).
G 10 | [picture] | Falcon in Sokar bark. Determinative in zkr “Sokar” (a god) and ḥnw “Sokarbark.”
G 11 | [picture] | Falcon image. Determinative in hm/šm/ḫm “idol” and šnbt “breast.”
G 12 | [picture] | Falcon image with flail.Variant of G11.
G 13 | [picture] | Falcon image with plumes. Determinative in spdw “Sopdu” (a god). Ideogram for ḥrw nḫnj “Horus of Hierakonpolis.”
G 14 | [picture] | Phonogram mjwt/mjt/mwt/mt, most common in mjwt “mother.” Determinative in nrt “vulture” and words with root nr.
G 14a | [picture] | Vulture on basket. Determinative in nḫbt “Nekhbet” (goddess).
G 15 | [picture] | Vulture with flail. Determinative in mjwt “Mut” (goddess), also ideogram for same.
G 16 | [picture] | G14a + I13. Ideogram for nbtj “Two Ladies” (title of the king: Essay 6).
G 17 | [picture] | Owl. Phonogram m.
G 18 | [picture] | Two owls. Phonogram mm.
G 19 | [picture] | G17 + D37. Phonogram mj, m.
G 20 | [picture] | G17 + D36. More common variant of G19.
G 21 | [picture] | Guinea-fowl. Phonogram nḥ. Ideogram for nḥ “guinea-fowl.” Often with body like G1 or G43, but with “horns” and lappet of G21.
G 22 | [picture] | Hoopoe. Phonogram db/db in dbt/dbt “brick.”
G 23 | [picture] | Lapwing. Determinative in rḫwt/rḫyt “subjects,” also ideogram for same.
G 24 | [picture] | Variant of G23.
G 25 | [picture] | Crested ibis. Phonogram ḫ.
G 26 | [picture] | Ibis on standard. Ideogram for dḥwtj “Thoth.” Determinative in hbj “ibis.”
G 26a | [picture] | Ibis.Variant of G26 in hbj “ibis.”
G 27 | [picture] | Flamingo. Phonogram dšr “red.” Determinative in dšr “flamingo.”
G 28 | [picture] | Black ibis. Phonogram gm.
G 29 | [picture] | Saddle-billed stork. Phonogram b.
G 30 | [picture] | Three jabirus. Ideogram for bw “impressiveness”; plural of G29.
G 31 | [picture] | Heron. Determinative HERON.
G 32 | [picture] | Heron on a perch. Determinative in bḥj “inundate,” also ideogram for same.
G 33 | [picture] | Egret. Determinative in sd/sdd “tremble.”
G 34 | [picture] | Ostrich. Determinative in njw “ostrich.”
G 35 | [picture] | Cormorant. Phonogram q.
G 36 | [picture] | Forktailed swallow. Phonogram wr. Determinative of mnt “swallow.”
G 37 | [picture] | Sparrow. Determinative SMALL, BAD. Distinguished from G36 by the rounded tail.
G 38 | [picture] | Goose. Phonogram gb in gbb, gbw “Geb.” Determinative BIRD, INSECT.Variant of G39 as phonogram z. Determinative in wf “discuss,” wzf “idle,” wdfj “delay,” ḥtm “perish, destroy.”
G 39 | [picture] | Pintail duck. Phonogram z. Determinative in zr/zrt/zj/zjt “pintail duck.” Often distinguishable from G38 only by more pointed tail.
G 40 | [picture] | Pintail duck flying. Phonogram p. Occasional variant of G41.
G 41 | [picture] | Pintail duck landing. Phonogram p, especially in hieratic. Determinative in ḫnj “land, alight” and other words with ḫn. Determinative in sḥwj “gather” and qmyt “gum.” In combination with T14 determinative in qm “throw,” qmj “create,” and words with tn/tn.
G 42 | [picture] | Fattened bird. Determinative in wš “fatten,” also ideogram in same. Determinative in dfw “food.”
G 43 | [picture] | Quail chick. Phonogram w. Ideogram for w “chick.”
G 44 | [picture] | Two quail chicks. Phonogram ww.
G 45 | [picture] | G43 + D36. Phonogram w.
G 46 | [picture] | G43 + U1. Phonogram mw.
G 47 | [picture] | Duckling. Phonogram t. Ideogram t “duckling, chick.”
G 48 | [picture] | Ducklings in nest. Determinative in zš “nest,” also ideogram for same.
G 48a | [picture] | Duckling in nest.Variant of G48.
G 49 | [picture] | Birds in nest.Variant of G48.
G 50 | [picture] | Two plovers. Ideogram for rḥtj “washerman.”
G 51 | [picture] | Bird and fish. Determinative in ḥm/ḥjm “net (fish or birds).”
G 52 | [picture] | Bird eating grain. Determinative in snm “feed.”
G 53 | [picture] | Human-headed bird with lamp. Ideogram for b “ba.”
G 54 | [picture] | Plucked bird. Phonogram snd/snd. Determinative in wšn “wring the neck of birds.”

H. PARTS OF BIRDS

H 1 | [picture] | Head of duck. Ideogram for pd “bird” (in offering formulas). Determinative in wšn “wring the neck of birds.”Variant of H2.
H 2 | [picture] | Head of a crested bird. Determinative in m “temple (of the head),” occasionally also m “correct, true, real.” Phonograms pq (variant of H3), wšm.
H 3 | [picture] | Head of spoonbill. Phonogram pq.
H 4 | [picture] | Head of vulture (G14). For G14 as determinative in nrt “vulture” and words with root nr. Ideogram for rmt “people.”
H 5 | [picture] | Wing. Determinative WING and associated actions.
H 6 | [picture] | Feather. Phonogram šw. Ideogram for šwt “feather.” Determinative in mt “Maat” (Essay 10), also ideogram for same.
H 6a | [picture] | Variant of H6.
H 6b | [picture] | Variant of H6.
H 7 | [picture] | Claw. Phonogram š in št “Shat” (a place). Determinative in jft “claw.”
H 8 | [picture] | Egg. Ideogram for z “son” in proper names. Determinative in swḥt “egg.” Determinative in pt “the elite.”

I. REPTILES, AMPHIBIANS AND THEIR PARTS

I 1 | [picture] | Gecko. Phonogram š. Determinative LIZARD.
I 2 | [picture] | Turtle. Determinative in štjw “turtle,” also ideogram for same.
I 3 | [picture] | Crocodile with straight tail. Determinative CROCODILE, AGGRESSION. When doubled, ideogram for jty “sire.”
I 4 | [picture] | Crocodile on shrine. Determinative in sbkw “Sobek,” also ideogram for same.
I 5 | [picture] | Crocodile. Determinative in sq “collect,” also ideogram for same.
I 5a | [picture] | Crocodile image.Variant of I4.
I 6 | [picture] | Crocodile scales. Phonogram km.
I 7 | [picture] | Frog. Determinative FROG. Ideogram for wḥm nḫ “repeating life.”
I 8 | [picture] | Tadpole. Ideogram for ḥfn 100,000 (§ 9.1). Determinative TADPOLE.
I 9 | [picture] | Horned viper. Phonogram f. Determinative in jtj “father.”
I 10 | [picture] | Cobra. Phonogram d.
R 61 | [picture] | Cobra emblem. Determinative in tnjw “desert border,” also ideogram for same.
I 11 | [picture] | Two cobras. Phonogram dd.
I 12 | [picture] | Erect cobra. Determinative in jrt “uraeus” and names of goddesses.
I 64 | [picture] | Variant of I12.
I 13 | [picture] | Cobra on basket. Determinative in wdt “Wadjet” (a goddess) and names of goddesses.
I 14 | [picture] | Snake. Determinative SNAKE, WORM.
I 15 | [picture] | Variant of I14.

K.² FISH AND THEIR PARTS

K 1 | [picture] | Bulti. Phonogram jn. Determinative in jnt “bulti.”
K 2 | [picture] | Barbel. Determinative in bwt “abomination.”
K 3 | [picture] | Mullet Phonogram d in d-mr “district administrator.” Determinative in dw “mullet.”
K 4 | [picture] | Oxyrhynchus. Phonogram h. Ideogram in ht “oxyrhynchus.”
K 5 | [picture] | Pike. Determinative in bzj “introduce.” Determinative FISH.
K 6 | [picture] | Fish scale.Variant . Determinative in nšmt “fish scale,” also ideogram for same.
K 7 | [picture] | Blowfish. Determinative in špt “angry.”

L. INSECTS AND INVERTEBRATES

L 1 | [picture] | Scarab beetle. Phonogram ḫpr. Determinative in or ideogram for ḫprr “scarab beetle.”
L 2 | [picture] | Bee or wasp. Ideogram for bjt “bee, wasp; honey,” and bjtj “hereditary king.”
L 3 | [picture] | Fly. Determinative in ff “fly.”
L 4 | [picture] | Locust. Determinative in znḥm “locust.”
L 5 | [picture] | Centipede. Ideogram in sp “Sepa” (place near Heliopolis). Determinative in zp “centipede.”
L 6 | [picture] | Shell. Phonogram ḫ in ḫwt “offering table.”
L 7 | [picture] | Emblematic scorpion. Determinative in srqt “Selket” (a goddess), also ideogram for same.
L 7a | [picture] | Emblematic scorpion on standard.Variant of L7.

M. VEGETATION

M 1 | [picture] | Tree. Determinative TREE; also in mr “fortunate.” Phonogram jm, often with only G17 m as complement = jm().
M 1a | [picture] | Variant of M1, with M3.
M 2 | [picture] | Plant. Determinative PLANT. Phonogram ḥn. Determinative in jzj “light,” jz “tomb,” js “old” (from jzw “reeds”). Rarely for A1 as determinative or in 1s pronouns (from j “reed”). Occasional variant of T24
M 3 | [picture] | Stick. Phonogram ḫt. Determinative WOOD. Ideogram for ḫt “wood, stick, tree, mast.” Also vertically as determinative of dr “seek.”
M 4 | [picture] | Rib of palm branch. Ideogram for rnpt “year” and rnpt-ḥsb “regnal year” (§ 9.9). Determinative in rnpj “young.” Determinative TIME in tr “time, season.” When doubled, ideogram for snf “last year.”
M 5 | [picture] | M4 + X1. Determinative TIME in tr “time, season,” also ideogram for same. Variant of M6.
M 6 | [picture] | M4 + D21. Determinative TIME in tr “time, season,” also ideogram for same. Determinative of some roots ending in tr and rj.
M 7 | [picture] | M4 + Q3. Determinative in rnpj “young,” also ideogram for same.
M 8 | [picture] | Pool with lotuses. Phonogram š. Ideogram for ḫt “Inundation (season)” (§ 9.8). Ideogram for š “pool, marsh.”
M 9 | [picture] | Lotus (water lily). Determinative in zššnj “lotus,” also ideogram for same.
M 10 | [picture] | Lotus (water lily) bud. Determinative in nḥbt “lotus bud.”
M 11 | [picture] | Flower on stem. Determinative in wdn “dedicate, offer,” also ideogram for same. Occasional variant of F46 as determinative in wdb “shore.”
M 12 | [picture] | Lotus (water lily) plant. Phonogram ḫ. Ideogram for ḫ 1,000 (§ 9.1) and “lotus.”
M 13 | [picture] | Papyrus. Phonogram wd/wd, also wd/wd in later texts. Ideogram for wd “papyrus column.”
M 14 | [picture] | M13 + I10.Variant of M13.
M 15 | [picture] | Clump of papyrus with buds. Determinative for mḥw “Delta,” also ideogram for same. Determinative PAPYRUS, SWAMP. Phonogram ḫ in ḫ-bjt “Chemmis” (Delta town).
M 16 | [picture] | Clump of papyrus. Phonogram ḥ.Variant of M15 in mḥw “Delta.”
M 17 | [picture] | Reed. Phonogram j. When doubled, phonogram y. Occasional variant of A1 Ideogram for j “reed.”
M 18 | [picture] | M17 + D54. Phonogram j in forms of jjj “come.”
M 19 | [picture] | Emblem for offerings. Determinative in b “offer,” also ideogram for same.
M 20 | [picture] | Field of reeds. Determinative in sḫt “field” and sḫtj “farmer,” also ideogram for same. Occasional variant of M21.
M 21 | [picture] | Reeds with root. Determinative in sm “grass, plants” and sm “help.”
M 22 | [picture] | Rush. Phonogram nḫb. When doubled, phonogram nn.
M 23 | [picture] | Sedge. Phonogram sw. Ideogram for nswt “king.” Ideogram for swt “sedge.” Occasional variant of M24 and M26.
M 163 | [picture] | M23 + Aa1. Ideogram for rḫ-nswt “king’s acquaintance.”
M 24 | [picture] | M23 + D21. Ideogram for rsw “south.”
M 25 | [picture] | Variant of M24.
M 26 | [picture] | Flowering sedge. Phonogram šm. Ideogram for šmw “Nile Valley” (Upper Egypt).
M 27 | [picture] | M26 + D36.Variant of M26.
M 28 | [picture] | M26 + V20. Ideogram in title wr mdw-šmw “chief of the ten (districts) of the Nile Valley.”
M 29 | [picture] | Carob pod. Phonogram ndm “pleasant, sweet, easy.”
M 30 | [picture] | Root. Determinative in bnr “sweet,” also ideogram for same.
M 31 | [picture] | Rhizome. Determinative in rd “grow,” also in rwd “firm.”
M 32 | [picture] | More common variant of M31.
M 33 | [picture] | Grain.Variants . Ideogram for jtj “grain.” Determinative GRAIN.
M 34 | [picture] | Sheaf of wheat. Ideogram for btj (originally bdt) “emmer (wheat),” also determinative for same.
M 35 | [picture] | Heap of grain. Determinative HEAP.
M 36 | [picture] | Bundle of flax. Phonogram dr. Determinative in dm “bundle.”
M 37 | [picture] | Older variant of M36.
M 38 | [picture] | Bundle of flax. Determinative in mḥw “flax” and dm “bundle.”
Y 10 | [picture] | Bundle of stems. Determinative in št “viciousness” (from š “cut”).
M 39 | [picture] | Basket of plants. Determinative VEGETABLES.
M 40 | [picture] | Tied bundle of reeds. Phonogram jz.
M 41 | [picture] | Chip of wood. Determinative WOOD.
M 42 | [picture] | Rosette. Phonogram wn. In hieratic indistinguishable from Z11
M 43 | [picture] | Grapes on trellis. Determinative VINE, WINE, GARDENER, FRUIT. Ideogram for jrp “wine” and kny “gardener.”
M 43a | [picture] | Trellis.Variant of M43.
M 44 | [picture] | Wine or olive press. Determinative in šzmw “Shesmu” (god of the wine or olive press), also ideogram for same.
M 45 | [picture] | Thorn. Determinative in spd “sharp,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in srt “thorn.” Determinative in t-ḥd “white-bread” (as bread of this form).

N. SKY, EARTH, WATER

N 1 | [picture] | Sky. Determinative SKY, ABOVE. Ideogram for ḥrj “upper” (§ 8.6.7). Determinative in rwt “gate” and hyt “ceiling, portal,” also ideogram for latter.
N 2 | [picture] | Sky with scepter. Determinative NIGHT. Ideogram for grḥ “night.”
N 3 | [picture] | Sky with oar.Variant of N2.
N 46b | [picture] | Sky with star.Variant of N2.
N 4 | [picture] | Sky with rain. Determinative DEW, RAIN. Ideogram for jdt “dew.”
N 5 | [picture] | Sun. Determinative SUN, DAY, TIME. Ideogram for r “sun, Re, day,” hrw “daytime,” and sw “day” (in dates: § 9.8).
N 5a | [picture] | Sun with two strokes. Determinative TIME.
N 5b | [picture] | N5 + N23.Variant of N5a.
N 6 | [picture] | Sun with uraeus. Determinative in r “Sun, Re,” also ideogram for same.
N 7 | [picture] | N5 + T28. Ideogram for hrt-hrw “course of the day.”
N 8 | [picture] | Sun with rays. Determinative SUNLIGHT. Phonogram wbn (from wbn “rise”). Ideogram for ḥnmmt “human beings.”
N 9 | [picture] | Moon. Phonogram psd in psdt “Ennead” and psdntjw “new-moon festival.” Variant of X6 in pt “origin.”
N 10 | [picture] | Variant of N9.
N 11 | [picture] | Crescent moon. Also vertically as determinative. Determinative in jḥ “moon,” also ideogram for same. Ideogram for “month”(jbd) in dates (§ 9.8). Occasional variant of F42 . Determinative in wḥ “carob,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in šzp “palm” (measure: § 9.7.1), also ideogram for same.
N 12 | [picture] | Crescent moon. Also vertically as determinative. Determinative in jḥ “moon,” also ideogram for same. Occasional variant of F42
N 64 | [picture] | N11 + N14. Ideogram for jbd “month.”
N 13 | [picture] | Half N11 + N14. Ideogram for mddjnt “day-15 festival.”
N 14 | [picture] | Star. Determinative STAR, TIME. Phonogram sb (from sb “star”). Phonogram dw (from dw “morning”). Ideogram for wnwt “hour.”
N 15 | [picture] | Encircled star. Ideogram for dwt “Duat” (Essay 2).
N 16 | [picture] | Strip of land with sand. Ideogram for t “land, earth, world.” Phonogram t. Determinative in dt “estate” and dt “eternity.”
N 16d | [picture] | Variant of N16.
N 17 | [picture] | Variant of N16.
N 18 | [picture] | Strip of land (thicker than N17). Ideogram for jw “island.” Determinative DESERT, FOREIGN LAND. Ideogram for stt “aroura” (§ 9.7.2).
N 19 | [picture] | Two strips of land. Ideogram for ḫt “Akhet” (Essay 2) in ḥrw-ḫtj “Harakhti” (Essay 12).
N 20 | [picture] | Tongue of land. Phonogram wdb/wdb in wdb “turn.” Determinative LAND, especially in wdb “shore.” Determinative in ḥb-sd “Sed Festival.”
N 21 | [picture] | Tongue of land. Determinative LAND. Ideogram for jdb “bank”; when doubled, jdbwj “Two Banks” (a term for Egypt).
N 22 | [picture] | Variant of N20.
N 23 | [picture] | Irrigation canal.Variants Determinative LAND, especially IRRIGATED LAND. Also used in variant of N5a. Ideogram for gbb/gbw “Geb.”
N 24 | [picture] | Irrigation canal system. Determinative of spt “nome, cultivation, estate, farm,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in names of nomes and divisions of Egypt, also in ḥzp “garden.”
N 25 | [picture] | Mountain range. Ideogram for ḫst “desert cliffs, foreign land.” Determinative DESERT, FOREIGN LAND.
N 76 | [picture] | N25 on standard. Ideogram for ḥ “Ha” (desert god).
N 26 | [picture] | Mountain. Phonogram dw. Ideogram for dw “mountain.”
N 27 | [picture] | Sun rising between mountain peaks. Ideogram for ḫt “Akhet” (Essay 2).
N 28 | [picture] | Sun’s rays above hill. Phonogram ḫ, especially in ḫj “appear.”
N 29 | [picture] | Sandy slope. Phonogram q. Different from X7
N 30 | [picture] | Hill with shrubs. Determinative in jt “mound,” also ideogram for same.
N 31 | [picture] | Path with shrubs. Determinative for wt “road,” also ideogram for same. Determinative ROAD, DISTANCE, POSITION. Ideogram for wj “tend, start” (from wt “road”). Phonogram ḥr in jn-ḥrt “Onuris” (a god), ḥrw “Horus,” and ḥrw r “except” (from ḥrj “go far away”).
N 31e | [picture] | Variant of N31.
N 32 | [picture] | Lump of clay.Variant of Aa2 and F52
N 33 | [picture] | Grain of sand. Determinative SAND, MINERAL, PELLET. When single, occasional substitute for signs with bad connotations, such as A14 and Z6 When triple (N33a), occasional substitute for plural strokes. Determinative in words with qd (from qdj “go around”).
N 33a | [picture] | Also Plural of N33 as determinative.
N 34 | [picture] | Ingot of metal. Ideogram for ḥmt “copper,” and ḥsmn “bronze.” Determinative COPPER, BRONZE.
N 34a | [picture] | Variant of N34.
N 35 | [picture] | Ripple of water. Phonogram n.
N 35a | [picture] | Three ripples of water. Ideogram for mw “water.” Determinative WATER. Phonogram mw.
N 36 | [picture] | Canal. Determinative BODY OF WATER. Phonogram mr and mj. Ideogram for mr “canal.”
N 37 | [picture] | Depression.Variants have inner details: (N37a), (N38), (N39), etc. Phonogram š. Ideogram for šj “basin, depression, lake.” Determinative of stt “aroura” (§ 9.7.2), also ideogram for same.Variant of X4 as determinative of zn “open” and znj “pass.”Variant of N36.
N 40 | [picture] | N37 + D54. Phonogram šm in forms of šmj “go.”
N 41 | [picture] | Well with water. Determinative WELL. Determinative in bj “cauldron, copper” and words with root bj. Determinative in pḥww “outer limits,” also ideogram for same (tripled).
N 42 | [picture] | More common variant of N41. Often for D280a

O. STRUCTURES AND THEIR PARTS

O 1 | [picture] | Schematic house plan (proportions vary). Ideogram for pr “house.” Phonogram pr. Determinative BUILDING, PLACE.
O 2 | [picture] | O1 + T3. Ideogram for pr-ḥd “treasury.”
O 3 | [picture] | O1 + P8 + X3 + W22. Ideogram for prt-ḫrw “invocation offering.”
O 4 | [picture] | Reed shelter. Phonogram h. Ideogram for h(?) “courtyard.”
O 5 | [picture] | Winding wall. Phonogram nm. Determinative in mrrt “street.” Phonogram mr in mr-wr “Mnevis” (sacred bull of Heliopolis) and “Moeris” (Fayum lake).
O 6 | [picture] | Plan of enclosure. Ideogram for ḥwt “enclosure.”
O 7 | [picture] | O7 + X1.Variant of O6.
O 8 | [picture] | O7 + X1 + O29. Ideogram for ḥwt-t “Great Enclosure” (temple of Heliopolis).
O 9 | [picture] | V30 + O6. Ideogram for nbt-ḥwt “Nephthys.”
O 10 | [picture] | O6 + G5. Ideogram for ḥwt-ḥrw “Hathor.”
O 11 | [picture] | Palace plan with battlements.. Ideogram for ḥ “palace.”
O 12 | [picture] | O11 + D36.Variant of O11.
O 104 | [picture] | O11 + T3. Ideogram for ḥ-ḥd “White Palace” or “Mace Palace” (a shrine).
O 13 | [picture] | Enclosure with battlements. Determinative in sbḫ “wall in” and related words.
O 14 | [picture] | Variant of O13.
O 15 | [picture] | Enclosure + W10 + X1. Ideogram for wsḫt “broad hall.”
O 15a | [picture] | Variant of O15.
O 16 | [picture] | Cornice with cobras. Determinative for tyt “curtain,” also ideogram for same and tjtj “he of the curtain” (title of the vizier).
O 17 | [picture] | Variant of O16, and of S22 in t-wr “starboard.”
O 18 | [picture] | Shrine in profile. Determinative in kr “shrine,” also ideogram for same.
O 19 | [picture] | Shrine with poles. Determinative in pr-wr “Great House” (original shrine of Upper Egypt at Hierakonpolis), also in jtrt šmt “Nile Valley Shrine” (same).
O 20 | [picture] | Shrine. Determinative SHRINE.
O 21 | [picture] | Shrine façade. Determinative in zḥ “booth,” also ideogram for same.
O 22 | [picture] | Tent with pole. Determinative in zḥ “counsel, advice” and zḥ “tent, booth,” also ideogram for latter.
O 23 | [picture] | Double pavilion. Determinative in ḥb-sd “Sed Festival,” also ideogram for same.
O 24 | [picture] | Pyramid and enclosure wall. Determinative PYRAMID.
O 25 | [picture] | Obelisk. Determinative in tḫn “obelisk,” also ideogram for same.
O 26 | [picture] | Stela. Determinative STELA, also ideogram for wd “stela.”
O 27 | [picture] | Columned hall. Determinative HALL. Determinative of ḫwj “dusk” (from ḫ “office”), also ideogram for same.
O 28 | [picture] | Column with tenon. Phonogram jwn. Ideogram for jwn “column.”
O 29 | [picture] | Wood column; also vertical. Phonogram .
O 30 | [picture] | Support. Determinative SUPPORT, also ideogram for zḫnt “support.”
O 31 | [picture] | Door leaf. Determinative OPEN. Determinative in “door,” also ideogram for same. When doubled vertically, determinative or ideogram for wj “door.”
O 31a | [picture] | Variant of O31.
O 32 | [picture] | Gateway. Determinative DOORWAY, also ideogram for sb “doorway.”
O 33 | [picture] | Palace façade. Determinative in srḫ “serekh” (Essay 6).
O 34 | [picture] | Doorbolt. Phonogram z. Ideogram for z “doorbolt.” Variant of R22
O 35 | [picture] | O34 + D54. Ideogram for zj “go away, perish.” Phonogram z in zy “which?” (§ 5.12), zbj “send away, go away,” and mz “bring.”
O 36 | [picture] | Wall. Determinative WALL. Ideogram for jnb “wall.”
O 37 | [picture] | Wall falling. Determinative TOPPLE, TILT.
O 38 | [picture] | Corner. Determinative CORNER. Ideogram for qnbt “council.” Determinative or ideogram for tm in the administrative title ḥrj (n) tm “chief of the tm.”
O 39 | [picture] | Stone block or brick. Determinative STONE, BRICK.
O 40 | [picture] | Stairs. Determinative STAIRWAY, TERRACE. Ideogram for rwd “stairs” and ḫtjw “terrace.”
O 41 | [picture] | Double stairs. Determinative STAIRWAY, ASCEND.
O 42 | [picture] | Later variant of O43.
O 43 | [picture] | Fence. Phonogram šzp, sšp.
O 44 | [picture] | Emblem of Min. Determinative in jt “office,” also ideogram for same.
O 44a | [picture] | Variant of O44.
O 45 | [picture] | Domed structure. Determinative in jpt “private quarters,” also ideogram for same.
O 46 | [picture] | Variant of O45.
O 47 | [picture] | Enclosed mound. Ideogram for nḫn “Hierakonpolis” and mḫnt “jasper.”
O 48 | [picture] | Variant of O47.
O 49 | [picture] | Area with intersection. Ideogram for njwt “town.” Determinative TOWN, SETTLEMENT.
O 49a | [picture] | Variant of O40.
O 50 | [picture] | Threshing floor with grain. Phonogram zp in zp “occasion, event,” zpj “be left over,” and related words. Determinative in zpt “threshing floor.”
O 51 | [picture] | Pile of grain Determinative in šnwt “granary,” also ideogram for same.
O 51b | [picture] | Variant of O51.

P. BOATS AND THEIR PARTS

P 1 | [picture] | Boat on water. Determinative BOAT. Ideogram for “boat” (various readings: dpt, ḥw, jmw, qqw).
P 1a | [picture] | Boat capsized. Determinative in pn “capsize.”
P 1c | [picture] | Variant of P1.
P 26 | [picture] | Variant of P1.
P 2 | [picture] | Boat under sail. Determinative in ḫntj “sail upstream.”
P 3 | [picture] | Sacred boat. Determinative GOD’S BOAT. Ideogram for wj “sacred bark.”
P 30 | [picture] | Variant of P3.
P 34 | [picture] | Variant of P3.
P 3a | [picture] | P3 + M23. Ideogram for wj-nswt “king’s bark.”
P 4 | [picture] | Boat with net. Phonogram wḥ.
P 4a | [picture] | Variant of P4.
P 5 | [picture] | Mast with sail. Determinative WIND, AIR. Ideogram for tw “air” and nfw “sailor.”
P 5f | [picture] | Sail. Determinative in ḥtw “sail” (noun).
P 6 | [picture] | Mast. Phonogram ḥ.
P 7 | [picture] | P6 + D36.Variant of P6.
P 8 | [picture] | Oar. Also horizontal in in m ḫrw “justified” (Essay 8). Phonogram ḫrw. Determinative OAR. Ideogram for ḥjpt “oar.”
P 9 | [picture] | P8 + I9. Ideogram for ḫr.fj “says, said” (§ 19.18).
P 10 | [picture] | Steering oar with rope. Determinative in ḥmw “rudder” and ḥmy “steerer.”
P 11 | [picture] | Mooring stake. Determinative in mjnj “moor, die” and related words. In hieratic often identical with T14

Q. DOMESTIC AND FUNERARY FURNITURE

Q 1 | [picture] | Seat. Ideogram for jst “seat, place.” Phonogram st. Phonogram js in jst “Isis” and jsjr “Osiris.” Phonogram ḥtm.
Q 2 | [picture] | Carrying chair. Phonogram js in jsjr “Osiris.” Ideogram for st “seat.”
Q 3 | [picture] | Stool. Phonogram p.
Q 4 | [picture] | Headrest. Determinative in wrsw “headrest.”
Q 5 | [picture] | Chest. Determinative CHEST, BOX.
Q 6 | [picture] | Coffin. Determinative in qrs “entomb,” also ideogram for same.
Q 7 | [picture] | Brazier with flame. Determinative FIRE. Ideogram for srf “temperature.” When doubled, ideogram for nsrsr “flame” in jw-nsrsr “Island of Flame” (locality of creation and in the Duat).

R. TEMPLE FURNITURE AND SACRED EMBLEMS

R 1 | [picture] | Stand with offerings. Determinative in ḫwt/ḫyt “altar,” also ideogram for same.
R 2 | [picture] | Variant of R1.
T 36a | [picture] | Variant of R1.
R 3 | [picture] | Table with offerings. Determinative in wdḥw “offering table,” also ideogram for same.
R 4 | [picture] | Bread loaf on mat. Phonogram ḥtp. Ideogram for ḥtp “offering slab.”
R 5 | [picture] | Censer. Phonogram kp/kp. Determinative in kp “fumigate,” also ideogram for same.
R 6 | [picture] | Older variant of R5.
R 7 | [picture] | Vessel with smoke. Determinative of sntr “incense,” also ideogram for same. Variant of W10a/Aa4
R 8 | [picture] | Flag on pole. Ideogram for ntr “god.” Phonogram nïr. Determinative GOD.
R 9 | [picture] | R8 + V33. Determinative for bd “incense,” also ideogram for same.
R 10 | [picture] | R8 + T28 + N29. Ideogram for hrj-ntr/hrt-ntr “necropolis.”
R 10e | [picture] | Variant of R10.
R 50 | [picture] | Variant of R10 without N29.
R 11 | [picture] | Reed column. Phonogram dd, also doubled in ddw “Busiris.” Ideogram for dd “djed-column/amulet.”
R 12 | [picture] | Carrying standard. Determinative in jt “standard.” Usually part of other signs.
R 13 | [picture] | Falcon on standard. Ideogram for jmnt “West” (older form of R14).
R 14 | [picture] | Feather on standard. Ideogram for jmnt “West” and wnmj “right.”
R 15 | [picture] | Spear emblem. Ideogram for jb “East, left.” Variant of U23
R 15b | [picture] | Variant of R15.
R 16 | [picture] | Scepter with plumes. Determinative in wḫ (emblem of Qus), also ideogram for same.
R 17 | [picture] | Wig with plumes on pole. Determinative in t-wr “This” (nome of Abydos), also ideogram for same.
R 17b | [picture] | Variant of R17.
R 18 | [picture] | Variant of R17.
R 19 | [picture] | S40 with feather. Ideogram for wst “Thebes” (town and nome).
R 20 | [picture] | Seshat emblem. Ideogram for sšt “Seshat” (a goddess).
R 21 | [picture] | Variant of R20.
R 22 | [picture] | Min emblem. Ideogram for mnw “Min” (a god). Phonogram ḫm in ḫm “shrine” and ḫm “Letopolis” (town in the Delta).
R 23 | [picture] | Older variant of R22.
R 22a | [picture] | R22 on standard.Variant of R22 as ideogram for mnw “Min.”
R 23a | [picture] | R23 on standard.Variant of R23 as ideogram for mnw “Min.”
R 24 | [picture] | Neith emblem, also vertical. Determinative in njt (originally nrt) “Neith” (a goddess), also ideogram for same.
R 24a | [picture] | R24 vertical on standard.Variant of R24.
R 24b | [picture] | R24 on standard.Variant of R24.
R 24c | [picture] | Crossed arrows on standard.Variant of R24.
R 25 | [picture] | Older variant of R24 vertical.
R 25a | [picture] | R25 on standard.Variant of R25.
R 25b | [picture] | R25 horizontal on standard.Variant of R25.
R 61 | [picture] | Cobra emblem. Determinative in tnjw “desert border,” also ideogram for same.

S. REGALIA AND CLOTHING

S 1 | [picture] | White Crown. Determinative WHITE CROWN. Ideogram for ḥdt “White Crown.”
S 2 | [picture] | White Crown in basket.Variant of S1.
S 47a | [picture] | S1 on standard with flail. Determinative in bby “Babay” (a god), also ideogram for same.
S 3 | [picture] | Red Crown. Determinative RED CROWN. Phonogram n.Variant of L2 emblem of bjtj “hereditary king.” as
S 4 | [picture] | Red Crown in basket.Variant of S3 as determinative.
S 5 | [picture] | Double Crown. Determinative in sḫmtj “Double Crown,” also ideogram for same. Determinative CROWN.
S 6 | [picture] | Double Crown in basket.Variant of S5.
S 7 | [picture] | Blue Crown. Determinative in ḫprš “Blue Crown,” also ideogram for same.
S 8 | [picture] | Atef Crown. Determinative in tf “Atef Crown,” also ideogram for same.
S 9 | [picture] | Two plumes. Determinative in šwtj “double plumes,” also ideogram for same.
S 10 | [picture] | Headband. Phonogram mdḥ. Determinative in wḥw “wreath” and mdḥ “headband,” also ideogram for latter.
S 11 | [picture] | Broad collar. Determinative in wsḫ “broad collar,” also ideogram for same. Phonogram wsḫ.
S 12 | [picture] | Bead collar. Ideogram for nbw “gold” and related words. Determinative PRECIOUS METAL.
S 12a | [picture] | Variant of S12.
S 13 | [picture] | S12 + D58. Phonogram nb.
S 14 | [picture] | S12 + T3. Ideogram for ḥd “silver.”
S 14a | [picture] | S12 + S40. Ideogram for dm “electrum.”
S 15 | [picture] | Faience pectoral. Determinative in tḥn “sparkle” and related words, also ideogram for same. Ideogram for šzmt “malachite” and related words.
S 16 | [picture] | Variant of S15.
S 17 | [picture] | Variant of S15.
S 17a | [picture] | Variant of S15.
S 18 | [picture] | Bead necklace. Determinative in mnjt “bead necklace, counterweight,” also ideogram for same.
S 19 | [picture] | Seal on necklace. Ideogram for ḫtm “seal” and related words.
S 20 | [picture] | Seal on necklace. Determinative SEAL. Ideogram for ḫtm “seal” and š(n)tj “ring” (§ 9.7.3).Variant of E31
S 21 | [picture] | Ring. Determinative RING.
S 22 | [picture] | Shoulder knot. Phonogram st/st. Determinative in t-wr “starboard (of ship),” also ideogram for same.
S 23 | [picture] | Knotted cloth. Phonogram dmd/dmd. Different from Aa6
S 24 | [picture] | Knotted belt. Phonogram tz. Ideogram for tzt “knot, vertebra.”
S 25 | [picture] | Garment with ties. Ideogram for jw “guide, dragoman, interpreter.”
S 26 | [picture] | Kilt. Determinative in šndyt (originally šndwt) “kilt,” also ideogram for same.
S 130a | [picture] | Strip of cloth; same form as N18. Determinative in djw “cloak,” also ideogram for same.
S 27 | [picture] | Cloth with two threads. Determinative in mnḫt “cloth,” also ideogram for same.
S 113 | [picture] | S27 + V6. Ideogram for šsr mnḫt in offering formulas.
S 116 | [picture] | Cloth with four threads. Determinative in jfdj “four-ply linen,” also ideogram for same.
S 118 | [picture] | Cloth with six threads. Determinative in sjsj “six-weave linen,” also ideogram for same.
S 28 | [picture] | Cloth with fringe + S29. Determinative CLOTH.
S 29 | [picture] | Folded cloth. Phonogram s. Abbreviation for snb in nḫ-wd-snb (§ 21.8.2).
S 30 | [picture] | S29 + I9. Phonogram in sf “yesterday.”
S 31 | [picture] | S29 + U2. Phonogram sm.
S 32 | [picture] | Cloth with fringe. Phonogram sj. Ideogram for sjt “fringed cloth.”
S 33 | [picture] | Sandal. Determinative SANDAL. Ideogram for tbt “sandal,” tbw “sandalmaker.”
S 34 | [picture] | Sandal strap. Phonogram nḫ. Ideogram for nḫ “sandal strap” and “mirror.”
S 35 | [picture] | Sunshade or fan. Ideogram for šwt “shadow, shade.” Determinative in sryt “fan,” also ideogram for same.
S 36 | [picture] | More common variant of S35. Doubled, ideogram for ḥjpwj “Hepwi” (a god).
S 37 | [picture] | Fan. Determinative in ḫw and sryt “fan,” also ideogram for same.
S 38 | [picture] | Crook. Phonogram ḥq. Determinative in ḥqt “scepter,” also ideogram for same.Variant of S39.
S 39 | [picture] | Shepherd’s crook. Phonogram wt in wt “flock” (from wt “crook”).
S 40 | [picture] | Animal-headed staff. Phonogram ws. Ideogram for ws “staff ” of this shape. Ideogram for jtt “milk, cream” and “Iatet” (milk goddess). Doubled, phonogram wb in wbwj “Wabwi” (name of a nome) and wbwt “Wabut” (a town). Variant of S41 and R19.
S 40a | [picture] | R19 on standard.Variant of S40 as ideogram for jtt “milk, cream” and goddess Iatet.
S 41 | [picture] | Animal-headed staff. Phonogram dm in dmw “electrum” (from dm “staff” of this shape).
S 42 | [picture] | Scepter. Phonogram sḫm. Determinative in ḫrp “manage, direct” also ideogram for same, especially in titles. Phonogram b. Ideogram for b “scepter” and “offering slab.” Ideogram for sḫm “sistrum.”
S 42a | [picture] | Lotus-bud scepter. Determinative in nḥbt “lotus-bud scepter,” also ideogram for same.
S 43 | [picture] | Staff. Phonogram md. Ideogram for mdw “staff.”
S 44 | [picture] | Staff with flail. Determinative for ms “staff,” also ideogram for same.
S 45 | [picture] | Flail. Determinative in nḫḫw “flail,” also ideogram for same.

T. WARFARE, HUNTING, SLAUGHTER

T 1 | [picture] | Mace with flat head. Phonogram mn.
T 2 | [picture] | T3 tilted. Determinative SMITE.
T 3 | [picture] | Mace with round head; also, onion (leek). Phonogram ḥd. Ideogram for ḥd “mace, onion” of this shape and ḥd “bright, silver, white.”
T 4 | [picture] | Variant of T3 as mace.
T 5 | [picture] | T3 + I10. Phonogram ḥd.
T 6 | [picture] | T3 + I10 + I10. Phonogram ḥdd.
T 7 | [picture] | Axe. Determinative AXE and related words.
T 7a | [picture] | Axe. Determinative in qḥw “axe” of this shape.
T 8 | [picture] | Dagger. Phonogram dp. Determinative in mtpnt “dagger” of this shape.
T 8a | [picture] | Dagger. Determinative in bgsw/mgsw “dagger” of this shape.
T 9 | [picture] | Bow. Phonogram pd/pd. Determinative in pdt “bow,” also ideogram for same and words of the same root.
T 9a | [picture] | Older form of T9.
T 10 | [picture] | Composite bow.Variant of T9.
T 11 | [picture] | Arrow. Phonogram zwn. Determinative ARROW.
T 12 | [picture] | Bowstring. Phonogram rwd/rwd. Determinative in words with r (j, jr; from r “restrain”). Ideogram for dr “subdue.” Determinative for rwd “bowstring,” also ideogram for same.
T 13 | [picture] | Pieces of wood tied. Phonogram rs in rs “wake” and related words.

T 14

Throw-stick. Determinative with G41 in words with tn/tn. Determinative FOREIGN. Determinative in qm “throw” and qmj “create,” also ideogram for same. Ideogram for m “Asiatic,” tḥnw “Libya.” Ideogram for ḥqt “heqat” (§ 9.7.4).Variant (doubled) of D50 as determinative ACCURATE.Variant of M3 as determinative in dr “seek”; of P11 as determinative in mjnj “moor, die”; of S39 as phonogram in wt “flock”; and of T13 and Aa6

T 15 | [picture] | Variant of T14.
T 16 | [picture] | Scimitar. Determinative in ḫpš “scimitar.”
T 17 | [picture] | Chariot. Determinative in wrrt “chariot,” also ideogram for same.
T 18 | [picture] | Crook with bundle attached. Phonogram šms.
T 19 | [picture] | Bone harpoon head. Phonogram qs. Determinative BONE, TUBE. Determinative in qrs “bury,” twr “pure” (from twr “tube”). Ideogram for gnwt “annals” and gnwtj “sculptor” (often doubled in the last).
T 20 | [picture] | Older variant of T19.
T 21 | [picture] | Harpoon. Also vertical. Phonogram w in w “one” and related words.
T 22 | [picture] | Arrowhead and spear. Phonogram sn. Determinative in mb “spear,” also ideogram for mb “30.”
T 23 | [picture] | Later variant of T22 as phonogram sn.
T 24 | [picture] | Fishing net. Phonogram ḥ/jḥ. Determinative NET.
T 25 | [picture] | Reed float. Phonogram db/db.
T 26 | [picture] | Bird trap. Determinative in sḫt “trap, weave,” also ideogram for same.
T 27 | [picture] | Older variant of T26.
T 28 | [picture] | Butcher’s block. Phonogram hr.
T 29 | [picture] | T30 + T28. Determinative in nmt “slaughtering place,” also ideogram for same.
T 30 | [picture] | Knife or saw. Determinative KNIFE, SHARP. Ideogram for dmt “knife.”
T 31 | [picture] | Knife sharpener. Phonogram sšm in sšm “guide” and related words.
T 32 | [picture] | T31 + D54.Variant of T31.
T 33 | [picture] | Older variant of T31.
T 34 | [picture] | Butcher knife. Phonogram nm. Determinative in nm “butcher knife.”
T 35 | [picture] | Variant of T34.

U. AGRICULTURE, CRAFTS, PROFESSIONS

U 1 | [picture] | Sickle. Phonogram m. Determinative REAP, CROOKED.
U 2 | [picture] | Variant of U1.
U 3 | [picture] | U1 + D4. Phonogram m in m “see.”
U 4 | [picture] | U1 + Aa11. Phonogram m in m “true, correct,” and related words.
U 5 | [picture] | Variant of U4.
U 6 | [picture] | Hoe. Phonogram mr. Determinative HACK.Variant of U8.
U 6a | [picture] | Variant of U6.
U 7 | [picture] | Variant of U6.
U 7a | [picture] | Variant of U6.
U 8 | [picture] | Hoe. Phonogram ḥn (from ḥnn “hoe”).
U 9 | [picture] | Grain-measure with grain. Determinative GRAIN. Ideogram for ḥqt “heqat” and jpt “oipe” (§ 9.7.4).
U 10 | [picture] | M33 + U9. Ideogram for jtj “barley, grain.” Variant of U9 as determinative.
U 11 | [picture] | S38 + U9. Ideogram for ḥqt “heqat” (§ 9.7.4).
U 12 | [picture] | Variant of U11.
U 109 | [picture] | Pitchfork. Determinative in sdb “obstacle,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in bj “collect” and bt “pitchfork.”
U 109a | [picture] | Variant of U109 in bj “collect” and bt “pitchfork.”
U 13 | [picture] | Plow. Phonogram šn. Phonogram hb. Determinative PLOW. Ideogram for prt “seed.”
U 14 | [picture] | Older variant of U13.
U 15 | [picture] | Sled. Phonogram tm.
U 16 | [picture] | Loaded sled with jackal’s head. Determinative in bj “wonder” and related words, also ideogram for same. Determinative SLED.
U 17 | [picture] | Pick and depression. Phonogram grg.
U 18 | [picture] | Older variant of U17.
U 19 | [picture] | Adze. Phonogram nw.
U 20 | [picture] | Older variant of U19.
U 21 | [picture] | Adze and block of wood. Phonogram stp/stp.
U 22 | [picture] | Chisel. Determinative in mnḫ “functional.” Determinative CARVE.
U 23 | [picture] | Chisel. Phonograms b and mr.
U 24 | [picture] | Drill for stone. Ideogram for ḥmwt “craft” and related words.
U 25 | [picture] | Older variant of U24.
U 26 | [picture] | Drill for beads. Ideogram for wb and related words. Occasional variant of U24–25.
U 27 | [picture] | Older variant of U26.
U 28 | [picture] | Fire-drill. Phonogram d. Abbreviation for wd in nḫ-wd-snb (§ 20.9.2).
U 29 | [picture] | Older variant of U28.
U 30 | [picture] | Kiln. Phonogram t.
U 31 | [picture] | Baker’s rake. Also vertical. Determinative in ḫnr “restrain” and related words, also ideogram for same. Determinative in rtḥ/jtḥ “restrain.” Determinative in rtḥtj “baker,” also ideogram for same.Variant of D19–20
U 32 | [picture] | Pestle and mortar. Determinative in smn “set, fix” (from smn “flatten dough”). Determinative POUND, HEAVY. Determinative in ḥzmn “natron,”and ḥsmn “bronze,” also ideogram for same.
U 33 | [picture] | Pestle. Phonogram tj/t.
U 34 | [picture] | Spindle. Phonogram ḫsf. Determinative in ḫsf “spin.”
U 35 | [picture] | U34 + I9.Variant of U34 as phonogram.
U 36 | [picture] | Launderer’s club. Phonogram ḥm.
U 37 | [picture] | Razor. Determinative in hq “shave.”
U 38 | [picture] | Scale. Determinative in mḫt “scale,” also ideogram for same.
U 39 | [picture] | Upright of scale. Determinative in wtz “hold up, carry, wear” and tzj “pick up.”
U 40 | [picture] | Variant of U39.
U 40a | [picture] | Variant of U39.
U 41 | [picture] | Plumb bob. Determinative in tḫ “plumb bob.”

V. ROPE, BASKETS, AND CLOTH

V 1 | [picture] | Coil of rope. Determinative ROPE, TIE, COIL. Ideogram for št 100 (§ 9.1). Phonogram šn in šnt “dispute.” Different from Z7.
V 1a | [picture] | Variant of V1.
V 2 | [picture] | V1 + O34. Determinative in st “pull” and s “hasten.” Ideogram for stt “aroura” (§ 9.7.2).
V 3 | [picture] | Three V1 + O34. Ideogram stw in r-stw “necropolis” (of Giza).
V 4 | [picture] | Lasso. Phonogram w.
V 5 | [picture] | Looped rope. Determinative in sntj “design,” also ideogram for same.
V 6 | [picture] | Cord with ends up. Phonogram šs and šsr. Ideogram for šsrw/šs “linen.” Variant of V33.
V 7 | [picture] | Cord with ends down. Phonogram šn.
V 8 | [picture] | Later variant of V7.
V 9 | [picture] | Round cartouche. Determinative in šnw “circuit” (of the sun), also ideogram for same. Determinative in šnw “cartouche.”
V 10 | [picture] | Oval cartouche. Surrounding names of kings, queens, and some gods. Determinative in šnw “cartouche” and rn “name.”
V 11 | [picture] | End of cartouche. Determinative in dnj “dam” and pḫ “split.” Ideogram for pḫ, a kind of grain. Ideogram for djwt/dyt “shriek.”
V 12 | [picture] | String. Determinative in fḫ “loosen,” rq “bind,” šfdw “papyrus scroll,” and other words associated with STRING. Determinative in rq “swear” and rqy “last day of the month” (§ 9.8) (from rq “bind”), also ideogram for last. Ideogram for fḫ “loosen.” Determinative in fnḫw “Fenekhu” (a people).
V 13 | [picture] | Hobble. Phonogram t/t.
V 14 | [picture] | Variant of V13.
V 15 | [picture] | V13 + D54. Phonogram jt/jt in forms of jtj “take possession.”
V 16 | [picture] | Hobble for cattle. Phonogram z in z “protection” and related words.
V 16a | [picture] | Variant of V16.
V 17 | [picture] | Rolled-up tent. Same value as V16.
V 18 | [picture] | Older variant of V17.

V 19

Hobble for cattle. Determinative SHRINE in kr “shrine,” qnj “palanquin” (also qnj “sheaf”), štyt “Sokar shrine.” Determinative in tm “mat” and tm “cadaster,” also ideogram for latter. Determinative in hr “sack” (§ 9.7.4), also ideogram for same. Determinative in mdt “stable, stall,” also ideogram for same.

V 20 | [picture] | V19 without horizontal. Ideogram for mdw “10” (§ 9.1).
V 21 | [picture] | V20 + I10. Phonogram md.
V 22 | [picture] | Whip. Phonogram mḥ.
V 23 | [picture] | Older variant of V22.
V 24 | [picture] | Cord wound on stick. Phonogram wd/wd.
V 25 | [picture] | Later variant of V24.
V 26 | [picture] | Spool with thread. Phonogram d/d. Determinative in d “reel,” also ideogram for same.
V 27 | [picture] | V26 without thread. Older variant of V26.
V 28 | [picture] | Wick. Phonogram ḥ.
V 29 | [picture] | Swab. Phonograms wḥ and sk. Determinative in ḫsr “ward off.” Variant of M1 in mr “fortunate.”
V 30 | [picture] | Basket. Phonogram nb.
V 31 | [picture] | Basket with handle. Usually reversed in hieroglyphic transcriptions of hieratic texts, where the handle always faces the front. Phonogram k.
V 32 | [picture] | Wicker satchel. Determinative in gwt “bundle,” hence also in gw “absence, lack,” hence also in drw “need.” Determinative in msnw “harpooner.” Phonogram msn in msn “Mesen” (a Delta town).
V 96 | [picture] | Older variant of V32 in gw “absence, lack.”
V 33 | [picture] | Bag. Determinative in rf “pack, sack,” stj “perfume,” and šs(r) “fine linen.” Phonogram g in a few words. Ideogram for sšrw “grain.” Determinative LINEN.
V 34 | [picture] | Older variant of V33.
V 35 | [picture] | Later variant of V33.
V 48 | [picture] | Bag + S29.Variant of S28.
V 36 | [picture] | Receptacle of cloth. Phonogram ḥn.
V 37 | [picture] | Bandage. Determinative in jdr “herd,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in jdr “bandage.”
V 38 | [picture] | Bandage. Determinative in wt “wrapping.”
V 39 | [picture] | Tie. Ideogram for tjt “Isis-knot” (amulet).

W. VESSELS

W 1 | [picture] | Oil-jar. Determinative OIL. Ideogram for mrḥt “oil.”
W 2 | [picture] | W1 without ties. Phonogram bs in bstt “Bastet” (goddess). Determinative in bs “oil jar.” Variant of W1.
W 3 | [picture] | Alabaster basin. Determinative FEAST. Ideogram for ḥb “feast.”
W 4 | [picture] | W3 + O22. Variant of W3.
W 5 | [picture] | T28 + W3. Ideogram for hrj-ḥbt “lector priest.”
W 6 | [picture] | Metal vessel. Determinative in wḥt “cauldron.”
W 7 | [picture] | Granite bowl. Determinative in mt “granite; proclaim.” Determinative in bw “Elephantine,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in bt “family.”
W 8 | [picture] | Variant of W7.
W 9 | [picture] | Stone jug. Also reversed. Phonogram hnm.
W 10 | [picture] | Cup. Determinative in words with b. Determinative in wsḫ “wide” and related words, also ideogram for same. Phonogram ḥnw in ḥnwt “mistress” (from ḥnt “cup”). Determinative CUP. Variant of N41 in words with bj.
W 10a | [picture] | Pot. Phonogram b in conjunction with E10 or G29
W Aa4 | [picture] | Variant of W10a.
W 11 | [picture] | Later variant of W12.
W 12 | [picture] | Jar stand. Phonogram g. Determinative in nst “seat,” also ideogram for same. Variant of W13 and O45.
W 13 | [picture] | Pot. Determinative in dšrt “red-ware,” also ideogram for same.
W 14 | [picture] | Water jar. Phonogram ḥz/ḥs. Determinative in ḥzt “water jar” and snbt “jar,” also ideogram for former.
W 15 | [picture] | Water jar with water. Determinative in qbb “cool” and qbḥ “cool, cool water,” also ideogram for latter.
W 16 | [picture] | W15 in jar stand.Variant of W15.
W 17 | [picture] | Variant of W18. Also
W 18 | [picture] | Water jars in a rack. Phonogram ḫnt. Ideogram for ḫntw “jar-rack.” Also
W 19 | [picture] | Milk jug with handle. Phonogram mj (originally mr). Determinative in mhr “milk jug.”
W 20 | [picture] | Milk jug with cover. Determinative in jrtt “milk.”
W 59 | [picture] | Variant of W20.
W 21 | [picture] | Wine jars. Determinative in jrp “wine.”
W 22 | [picture] | Beer jug. Determinative POT. Ideogram for ḥnqt “beer” in offering formulas. Ideogram for wdpw “waiter.”
W 23 | [picture] | Variant of W22.
W 24 | [picture] | Pot. Phonogram nw. Phonogram jn in jnk (1s pronoun).Variant of N33 in words with qd. Determinative in ddt “council” and nḫbt “Nekhbet” (goddess), for unknown reasons. Often combined with Aa27 as phonogram nd. Variant of W22–23 as determinative.
W 24a | [picture] | W24 + N35a. Ideogram for m-hnw “inside” (§ 3.6).
W 25 | [picture] | W24 with legs. Phonogram jn in forms of jnj “get, fetch, bring.”
W 54 | [picture] | Pot pouring water.Variant of D60 and A6

X. BREAD

X 1 | [picture] | Flat loaf of bread Phonogram t. Ideogram for t “bread.” Often phonogram for (j)t(j) “father,” alone or in conjunction with I9
X 2 | [picture] | Tall loaf of bread. Determinative BREAD, FOOD. Ideogram for t “bread” in offering formulas. Ideogram for dḥwtj “Thoth.”Variant of X1 as phonogram for (j)t(j) “father.”
X 3 | [picture] | Variant of X2.
X 4 | [picture] | Bread roll. Determinative BREAD, FOOD. Determinative in words with zn (from znw “food offerings”).Variant of W3.
X 4a | [picture] | Variant of X4. Also without details ().
X 5 | [picture] | Variant of X4.
X 6 | [picture] | Round loaf of bread. Determinative in pt “loaf” and in pt “origin” and related words.
X 7 | [picture] | Half-loaf of bread. Determinative BREAD. When doubled vertically, ideogram for wnm “eat.” Different from N29
X 8 | [picture] | Bread mold. Phonogram dj/d (originally dj) in forms of rdj “give,” rarely in other words.

Y. WRITING, GAMES, MUSIC

Y 1 | [picture] | Papyrus scroll. Also vertical. Determinative WRITING, ABSTRACT CONCEPTS. Ideogram for dmd “total.” Ideogram for mdt “scroll” and mdt “chisel.”
Y 1a | [picture] | Variant of Y1.
Y 2 | [picture] | Older variant of Y1.
Y 3 | [picture] | Scribe’s kit. Ideogram for zḫ “write” and related words. Determinative in n “smooth” and tms “ruddy” and related words, also ideogram for same. Determinative in mnhd “scribe’s kit.”
Y 4 | [picture] | Variant of Y3.
Y 5 | [picture] | Game board and pieces. Phonogram mn.
Y 6 | [picture] | Game piece. Determinative in jb “game piece,” also ideogram for same. Determinative in jb “dance,” also ideogram for same.
Y 7 | [picture] | Harp. Determinative in bjnt “harp.”
Y 8 | [picture] | Sistrum. Determinative in zššt “sistrum.” Variant of S42.
Y 10 | [picture] | Bundle of stems. Determinative in št “viciousness” (from š “cut”).

Z. STROKES AND FIGURES

Z 1

Stroke. Used as determinative of signs meant to be read as ideograms rather than phonograms (§ 3.3). Occasionally transferred to phonograms: e.g., ḥr “upon” (preposition) from ḥr “face.” Determinative in w “one,” also ideogram for same. Written one to nine times (usually taller) as ideogram for numerals 1 to 9 (§ 9.1). Substitute for A1

Z 5 | [picture] | Diagonal stroke. Replacement for complex or dangerous signs.
Z 4 | [picture] | Two strokes. Phonogram j as ending. Determinative DUAL.
Z 49 | [picture] | Variant of Z4.

Z 2

Three strokes. Also grouped more closely or vertical; sometimes with four strokes or replaced by N33a. Determinative plural. Also used with words that are plural in meaning, such as collectives, food, and minerals, and with singular words ending in w or wt (“false plurals”: § 4.6). Determinative in ḫmt “think” (from ḫmtw “three”).

Z 2a–b | [picture] | Variants of Z2.
Z 2c | [picture] | Variant of Z2. Also vertical.
Z 3 | [picture] | Variant of Z2.
Z 6 | [picture] | Variant of A13–14 derived from hieratic. Determinative DIE, ENEMY. Sometimes similar to F20
Z 7 | [picture] | Curl, from hieratic variant of G43 Phonogram w. Different from V1
Z 8 | [picture] | Oval. Determinative ROUND, OVAL.
Z 9 | [picture] | Crossed sticks. Determinative BREAK, CROSS, NUMBER. Phonograms sw/zw in swj “pass” and zw “cut off,” sd in sdt “flame,” šbn in šbn “mix” and related words, ḫbs in ḫbsw “cultivation,” wp in wp-st “detail, breakdown,” and wr in a few words.
Z 10 | [picture] | Older variant of Z9.
Z 11 | [picture] | Crossed planks. Phonogram jm.Variant of M42

AA. UNCLASSIFIED

Aa 1 | [picture] | Unknown, possibly bread loaf. Also without inner details Phonogram ḫ. Pustule. Determinative SWELLING, UNHEALTHY. Variant of F52 and N32 as determinative EXCREMENT, CLAY; M41 as determinative in š “cedar”;

Aa 2

V32 as determinative in gw “absence, lack” and gwt “bundle”;V38 as determinative in wt “bandage” and srwḫ “treat,” also ideogram for former; W6 as determinative in wḥt “cauldron,” also phonogram wḥ in same and in wḥt “oasis”; W7 as determinative in mt “granite” and bw “Elephantine”; Z10 as determinative in ḥsb “count,” also ideogram for same.

Aa 3 | [picture] | Aa2 with liquid.Variant of Aa2 as determinative SWELLING, UNHEALTHY.
Aa 4 | [picture] | Pot.Variant of W10a.
Aa 5 | [picture] | Part of a ship. Phonogram ḥjp/ḥp. Ideogram for ḥjpt “oar.”
Aa 5a | [picture] | Variant of Aa5.
Aa 6 | [picture] | Unknown. Determinative in tm/tm “cadaster; mat.” Different from S23
Aa 7 | [picture] | Unknown. Also reversed. Determinative in sqr “smash.”
Aa 8 | [picture] | Possibly irrigation channel. Phonogram qn. Determinative of spt “estate, farm,” also ideogram for same. Determinative of ddt “council.”Variant of N24 as ideogram in spt “nome”; O34 as phonogram z in zmjt “desert”; V26 as phonogram d.
Aa 9 | [picture] | Unknown. Determinative in ḫwd “rich.”
Aa 10 | [picture] | Possibly reed brush. Determinative in drf “writing.”
Aa 11 | [picture] | Platform. Also vertically. Phonogram m. Determinative in tntt “platform.”
Aa 12 | [picture] | Older variant of Aa11.
Aa 13 | [picture] | Unknown. Phonograms jm and m.Variant of Aa16.
Aa 14 | [picture] | Variant of Aa13.
Aa 15 | [picture] | Aa13 with horizontals parallel.Variant of Aa13.
Aa 16 | [picture] | Front half of Aa13. Ideogram for gs “side, half,” phonogram gs.
Aa 17 | [picture] | Lid of a chest. Phonogram s. Ideogram for s “back.”
Aa 18 | [picture] | Later variant of Aa17.
Aa 19 | [picture] | Unknown. Determinative in ḥr “prepare” and ḥrj “terrified” and related words. Determinative in tr “secure.”
Aa 20 | [picture] | Bag for clothing. Phonogram pr.
Aa 21 | [picture] | Unknown. Phonogram wd. Ideogram for wdw “judged one” (term used in place of sth/stš “Seth”).
Aa 22 | [picture] | Aa21 + D36.Variant of Aa21.
Aa 23 | [picture] | Warp stretched between stakes. Determinative in mdd “puncture, press, adhere” and related words, also ideogram for same.
Aa 24 | [picture] | Older variant of Aa23.
Aa 25 | [picture] | Unknown. Ideogram in zmtj/zm “stolist” (priest’s title).
Aa 26 | [picture] | Unknown. Determinative in sbj “rebel.”
Aa 27 | [picture] | Spindle. Phonogram nd. Often used in conjunction with W24.
Aa 28 | [picture] | Builder’s level. Phonogram qd.
Aa 29 | [picture] | Older variant of Aa28.
Aa 30 | [picture] | Frieze element; also horizontal. Determinative in hkr “adorn” and related words, also ideogram for same.
Aa 31 | [picture] | Older variant of Aa30
Aa 32 | [picture] | Bow. Also horizontal. Phonogram stj/stj in t-stj “Nubia” and stj “ocher.”

SIGNS ARRANGED BY SHAPE

Often the category to which a particular hieroglyph belongs is not immediately evident from the sign itself. To make it easier to find such signs in the preceding list, they are arranged below in four groups according to their shape. Signs that are readily identifiable, such as figures of people and animals, are not included.

The size and proportions of the signs in the groups below are those most often found in hieroglyphic inscriptions. Because hieroglyphs can vary in size and proportion depending on the surrounding signs, however, you may need to look in more than one group before you find a particular sign: , for example, appears under “Small Signs” (, its usual shape) rather than in “Horizontal Signs.”

SMALL SIGNS

HORIZONTAL SIGNS

VERTICAL SIGNS

LARGE SIGNS AND COMBINATIONS

1 A number of signs that Gardiner placed in category Aa (“Unclassified”) have since been identified. The sign R13 is included as a separate entry in G. The supplemental sign R61 is listed under I as well as R, and Y10 under M as well as Y. Additional signs are numbered, where possible, after the list in N. Grimal, J. Hallof, D. van der Plas, eds., Hieroglyphica (Publications interuniversitaires de recherches égyptologiques informatisées, 1: Utrecht, Centre for Computer-aided Egyptological Research, Utrecht University, 1993). Such signs are placed where they belong in each group rather than in their numerical position: thus, for example, A68 after A2.

2 There is no category J.

3In M, after M38.

DICTIONARY

This dictionary lists the words that appear in hieroglyphs in the Exercises, in alphabetical order. Words that share a common root are normally grouped together, with the root word first and related words in indented entries beneath; causatives, however, are listed alphabetically (under s) rather than under the root verb. Feminine endings are disregarded in alphabetizing: for example, sḫt “field” (root sḫ) is listed before sḫj “recall” rather than after sḫt “strike” (root sḫt). Usually only the most representative spellings are listed. For nouns, only the meaning is given; for other words, the lexical category is noted in parentheses; for verbs, the root class is given in parentheses.

t “moment; moment of rage”

wj (3ae-inf.) “be long; extend”; wj jb “happy” (“long of heart”)

w “length”; r w “complete, entire” (§ 6.7)

wt “offering-gifts”

wt- “gift” (“extending of the arm”)

wt-jb “happiness”

b (2-lit.) “stop”

bj (3ae-inf.) “desire, wish”

bḫ (3-lit.) “mix, mingle”

bdw “Abydos” (see map)

pd “bird”

m (2-lit.) “burn up”

hw “needy person”

ḥt “field, plot of (cultivated) land”

ḫ (2-lit.) “be useful, effective”

ḫt “Akhet” (see Essay 2)

ḫt “Inundation (season)” (§ 9.8)

ḫtj (nisbe) “of the Inundation season”

tp (3-lit., originally tp) “load”

d (2-lit.) “get angry, aggressive”

d (2-lit.) “be weak, feeble”

j (interjection: § 15.8.1) “oh”

j “say” (§ 19.18)

jt “branch”

jjw “praise”

jwt “office, profession”

jwj “old age”

jbt “East,” also jbtt (nisbe)

jbtj (nisbe) “eastern”

jdr — see jdr

jw (anom.) “come, return”; jj.tj (stative) “welcome!”; jjwj (participle) “welcome!”

jyt “wrong”

jb (3-lit.) “join together, unite”

rt “uraeus” (protective serpent)

jḥ “moon” (also as a god, identified with Thoth)

jw (particle: §§ 10.3, 15.6.1)

jw “island”

jw — see jjj

jw “complaint, error, wrong”

jw “ox”

jw (3-lit.) “inherit”

jwt “inheritance”

jww “heir”

jwf — see jf

jwms “exaggeration” — from the phrase jw ms: § 15.7.7)

jwntj “desert Nubian”

jwr (3-lit.) “conceive (a child)”

jwsw “balance” (a scale with two pans: )

jwtj (negative relative adjective) “who/which not”; jwtt “that which is not”

jwd (3-lit.) “push off” (r “from”)

jb “heart, mind”; jmj-jb “confidant”; ḥr jb “in the midst of”; ḥrj jb “middle”

jb (2-lit.) “think, suppose”

jbj (3ae-inf.) “thirst”

jbd “month”

jp (2-lit.) “allot, assign”; jp dt “collect (one)self”

jpt-jswt “Karnak” (temple: see map) (“(Most) Select of Places”); also singular jpt-jst

jf “meat” — often written jwf

jm (preposition, adverb) — see m

jmy — see § 8.10

jmj (prepositional nisbe) — see m

jm “tent” (the writing shows loss of final in pronunciation)

jmj (imperative: § 15.2.3) “give, put, cause”

jmj (negative verb: § 12.7)

jmḫ “worth, honor” (see Essay 21)

jmḫy (participle/noun) “worthy” (ḫr “with”)

jmw “boat”

jmw “mourning”

jmn “hide”

jmnw “Amun” (see Essay 15)

jmnt “West,” also jmntt (nisbe)

jmntj (nisbe) “western”

jmḥt “Cavern” (place in the Duat)

jn (preposition: § 8.2.2) “by”; (particle: § 15.6.2)

jn “say” (§ 19.18)

jnj (3ae-inf.) “fetch, get, use”; jnj m “turn to, have recourse to”

jnw “produce, products, tribute”

jnb “wall”

jnpw (proper noun) “Anubis” (god of the cemetery)

jnm “skin”

jnr “stone”

jnq (3-lit.) “embrace”

jnk (1s independent pronoun: § 5.5)

j.nd ḥr (interjection: § 15.8.2) “greetings”

jr, r (preposition: § 8.2.7) “with respect to, toward”

jrj (prepositional adverb) “thereunto, with respect to it/them”

jrj (nisbe) “he who is at, who pertains to”; jrj, jrt “duty”

jrt “eye”

— see jsjr “Osiris”

jrj (3ae-inf.) “make, do”; “pass” (time); “act as” (a function); “beget” (children); “work” (a field); jrj r “act against (someone), make for (a place),” jrj n “act/do for”; jrj ḥn “deal/act with”

jrw “form”

jrp “wine”

jhm (3-lit.) “stall”

jḥ “cattle”

jḫ (particle: § 15.6.3) “then”

— see zj

jz “tomb”

jzwt “crew”

jzr “tamarisk”

js (particle: § 15.7.3)

jsjr “Osiris,” literally “engendering principle” (see Essays 8 and 12); also jsr

jst “place, seat, throne”

jsw (particle: § 15.6.4) “indeed”

jst, jst (particle: § 15.6.5)

jšwt — see ḫt “thing”

jšst (interrogative pronoun: § 5.12) “what?”; ḥr zj jšst “how?, why?”

jqr (3-lit.) “be able, accomplished, excellent, successful”

jkmw “shield”

jkn (3-lit. and noun) “scoop”

jtj “father”

jty or jtjj “sire” (Essay 6)

jtj “barley, grain”

jtj-mḥ “full barley” (a species)

jtmw “suffocation”

jtn “sun disk”

jtn (3-lit.) “contradict”

jtnw “ashes”

jtrw “river”; measurement “river” (§ 9.7.1)

jtḥ (3-lit.) “draw, pull”

jtj (3ae-inf.) “take possession of, rob”

jdj (3ae-inf.) “be senseless, deaf, dumb”

jdyt “girl”

jdw “pestilence”

jdr “herd”

“hand, arm”; m “with, from”

wt “gift” (see wj)

nt- “custom, practice, procedure” (“what belongs to the hand”)

t “limb”

t “room”

(adverb) “here”

“doorleaf”; often dual wj “door”

“donkey”

j (3ae-inf.) “ be big, important”

“greatness”

wt “lump”

ppj “Apophis” (giant snake who inhabits the Duat and tries to prevent the sun’s nightly journey through it)

m “Asiatic”

g (3-lit.) “pound, thrash”

jj (4-lit.) “wail”

ft “rate of payment”

wt “animals”

wj (4ae-inf.) “rob, steal”

wy “robber”

wn (3-lit.) “be greedy”

b “horn, flank”

b “horned crocodile”

bj (3ae-inf.) “collect”; bj m t “bury” (literally “collect in the ground”)

pj (3ae-inf.) “pass” (ḥr “by”)

pr (3-lit.) “equip”; pr (adjective) “experienced”

fy “camp”

m (2-lit.) “swallow”

mm (4-lit.) “massage”

nḫ (3-lit.) “live” (m “on”); nḫ-wd-snb “lph” (see § 20.9.2)

nḫ “living person”

nḫw “life”

r (2-lit.) “ascend, penetrate”

rt — see jrt

rf “sack”

rryt “gate”

rq (3-lit.) “bend”

rqy “last day of the month” (§ 9.8)

ḥ “palace, cabin”

ḥ (3-lit.) “fight”

ḥ “arrow, weapon”

ḥ “(masted) boat”

ḥ (3-lit.) “stand up, go on duty”; “steadfast” (adjective)”; ḥ n “wait for, expect”

ḥ.n (introductory word) “then”

ḥ “heap, pile” (often, of riches)

ḥw “lifetime”

ḫm (3-lit.) “quench, douse”

ḫḫw “nightfall, darkness”

hj (3ae-inf.) “fly off”

hnwtj “chamber”

š (adj.-verb 3-lit.) “many”

št “multitude”

q (2-lit.) “enter” (r “into,” ḥr “before, into the presence of”)

qw “rations, salary”

q (3-lit.) “be straight, accurate”

d (2-lit., originally d) “be safe”

wt “road, path, way”; rdj ḥr wt “show the way” (“put on the way”), rdj wt n “let leave” (“give the road to”)

ww “wave”

wḥ (3-lit.) “set, place; add; stop; remain, last, keep”; wḥ (adjective) “lasting”; wḥ jb “be patient” (“lasting/set of mind”)

wḥyt “abundance (of grain)”

wḫj “columned hall” (“marsh” of papyrus and lotus columns)

ws “authority, dominion”

wst “Thebes” (nome and town)

wgj (4ae-inf.) “make festival”

wd (3-lit.) “be green, blue-green, fresh; fortunate”

wd “malachite”

wd-wr “sea” (“great blue-green”)

wdyt “Wadjyet” (cobra goddess of Lower Egypt)

— see wd

wj (1s dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

wj “mummiform coffin”

wj “bark”

wjn (3-lit.) “reject, put aside”

w (number) “one”; (adjective) “unique, sole”

wj (3ae-inf.) “be alone”

w (3-lit.) “blaspheme”

ww “soldier”

wb (3-lit.) “be clean, pure”

wb “laypriest” (Essay 5)

wbt “cleansing”

wrt “flight”

wrt “district”

wbyt “maid”

wbn (3-lit.) “rise, swell”

wbnw “wound”

wpj (3ae-inf.) “part, split, open”

wp-wwt “Wepwawet” (“Parter of Ways,” jackal god of Abydos)

wpw ḥr “except”

wpt “land-register”

wpwt “assignment, mission, message”

wpwtj “messenger”

wmt (3-lit.) “be thick, stout”

wmwt “niche”

wn (2-lit.) “open”

wn “sanctuary”

wnwt “hour”

wnwt “hourly staff”

wnm (3-lit.) “eat”

wnmw “food”

wnn (2ae-gem.) “exist, be”

wn m “reality”; n wn xm “truly”

wn.jn “then, so”

wnn-nfr.w “Wenennefer, Onnophris,” epithet of Osiris (“He who is continually young”)

wnnt (particle: § 15.7.5) “really, indeed”

wndw “short-horned cattle”

wndwt “tenants”

wr (adjective) “great, elder, important” (from 2ae-gem. verb wrr)

wrt (adverb) “greatly, much”

wrrt “crown”

wrš (3-lit.) “spend the day”

wršy “watchman”

wrd (3-lit., originally wrd) “tire” (intransitive); also euphemism for “die”

wḥyt, wḥwt, wḥyw “tribe”

wḥm (3-lit.) “repeat”

wḥmw “herald”

wḫ “fool”

wḫdw “forbearance, tolerance”

wzfw “negligent”

wsḫ (3-lit.) “be broad, wide”

wsḫt “broad hall”; wsḫt nt mtj “Hall of the Two Maats” (name of the Hall of Judgment in the Netherworld, so called because the judges sit in two rows on either side of it)

wsḫt “barge (broad boat)”

wstn/wstn (4-lit.) “stride”

wšb (3-lit.) “answer”

wš (3-lit.) “chew”

wšd (3-lit.) “address, question”

wt (2-lit.) “bandage”

wt “bandage, mummy-wrappings”

jmj wt “he who is in the mummy-wrappings” (epithet of Anubis)

wtt (3-lit., originally wtt) “beget”

wdj (3ae-inf.) “put, set, push”

wdpw “waiter”

wdfj (4ae-inf.) “be late, dawdle”

wd, also wd (2-lit.) “command”; wd dp “give orders” (“command head”); wd mdw “govern” (“command speech”)

wd “stela”

wdt “decree, command”

wd (3-lit.) “proceed”

wdyt “(military) campaign”

wd (3-lit.) “sever, separate”

wdb “bank (of a canal or river)”

b “ba” (see Essay 7)

bw “impressiveness”

bt “bush, sprig”

bḥ “presence”; m bḥ “in the presence of”

bḥj (nisbe) “ancestor, predecessor”

bhw “Bakhu” (a western mountain range on the horizon of the Akhet: see Essay 2)

bk “worker, servant”; bk jm “your humble servant”

bkw “tribute”

bgj (4ae-inf.) “be lazy”

bjn (3-lit.) “be bad”

bjn “badness”

bjnt “harp”

bjk “falcon”; bjk nbw “Gold Falcon” (royal title: Essay 6)

bw “thing, place”; also a means of forming abstract nouns:

bw-nb “everyone”

bw-nfr “goodness”

bw-dw “evil”

— see bjnt

bnr (3-lit.) “be sweet”

btj (noun, feminine: originally bdt) “emmer” (a kind of wheat)

pt “sky”

p (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

py — see §§ 5.11

p (2-lit.) “once do, ever do”

pwt “original time, creation”

pqt “fine linen”

pqyt “sherd”

pd “ball”

pt “loaf of bread”

pt “the elite”

pw (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

pwy (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.10.1)

— see ptr

pf (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

pn (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

pr “house”; pr-nswt “king’s house, palace”

prj (3ae-inf.) “go up, emerge, issue”

prt “Growing (season)” (§ 9.8)

prt “seed”

prt-ḫrw “invocation offering” (“sending forth of the voice”)

pḥ (2-lit.) “reach, catch, attack”

pḥ “result, end”

pḥtj “(physical) strength”

pḥrr (3ae-gem.) “run”

phr (3-lit.) “go around”; phr n “serve”

phrt “prescription, remedy”

pzšt “division”

psdt “Ennead” (see Essay 12)

psdj (4ae-inf., originally psdj) “shine”

pšš (2ae-gem.) “spread out”

ptpt (4-lit.) “trample”

ptr, ptj, pw-trj (interrogative pronoun: §§ 5.12, 7.13.2)

pdt “bow”

pdtj/pdtj (nisbe) “bowman”

fj (3ae-inf.) “carry, lift”

fn (2-lit.) “be miserable”

fnt “worm, maggot”

fnd (originally fnd) “nose”

fḫ (2-lit.) “lose, loosen”

m, jm (preposition: § 8.2.3) “in, by, with”

jm (prepositional adverb) “there, thereby, therewith, therein”

jmj (prepositional nisbe) “who/which is in”

jmj-jb “confidante” (“one who is in the mind”)

jmj-r “overseer” (§ 8.9)

jmj-r pr “steward”

jmj-r šj “quarry-overseer”

m-n.k (imperative: § 15.2.4) “take!”

m (imperative: § 15.4) “don’t!”

mj (interrogative pronoun: § 5.12)

mj (particle: § 15.7.6) “now, please”

m.k (particle: § 15.6.7) “look” (2ms); also 2fs m.t/m.t, 2pl m.tn/m.tn

mj, my (imperative: § 15.2.2) “come!”

mj, mw “lion”

m (2ae-gem.) “see, regard”; m n “look at”

m (3-lit.) “guide, direct”

mt “Maat” (Essay 10)

wn m — see wnn

m (adjective) “true, proper, correct” (i.e. “Maat-like”)

m ḫrw (adjective phrase) “justified” (see Essay 8); also “justification” (noun phrase)

mw “proper wind”

mwj (4ae-inf.) “be new”

mr/mj (3-lit.) “be poor, needy”

mh (3-lit.) “smolder”

mst “lap”

mj (preposition: § 8.2.4) “like”

mj n “here” (literally “like this”)

mjtj, mjtw “one like, equal”

mjtt “likeness”; m mjtt “likewise”

mjwt “mother”

mjn “now”; m mjn “now” (adverb)

mjnj (4ae-inf.) “moor” (often, a euphemism for “die”)

mjk (adjective) “brave”

mjtn (originally mjtn) “path”

mw “water”

mwt (3-lit.) “die”

m-bj (interjection: § 15.8.3) “no”

mjfkt (for mfkt) “turquoise”

mmj (preposition: § 8.2.5) “among”

mn “be set, be fixed, remain”

— see mjnj

mnjw “herder”

mnw “Min” (god)

mnw “monument, monuments”

mnmn (4-lit.) “quake”

mnmnt “herd (of cattle)”

mnḥ “wax”

mnḫ (3-lit.) “be functional, worthwhile, effective, potent”

mnḫt “clothing”

mntw (noun, originally mntw) “Montu” (patron god of Thebes)

mnd “breast”

(j)m(j)-r — see m (preposition)

mr “pyramid”

mr (2-lit.) “be sick, painful”

mr (2-lit.) “bind”

mryt “riverbank”

mrwt “serfs, dependents”

mrj (3ae-inf.) “desire, want, like”

mrwt “love,” n mrwt “for the sake of”

mrt “Meret” (goddess of song)

mrḥt “oil, ointment”

mḥ (2-lit.) “fill”

mḥ with numerals: see § 9.3

mḥ “cubit” (§ 9.7.1)

mḥj (3ae-inf.) “be in water, flood, swim”

mḥj (3-lit.) “care, worry” (spelling influenced by mḥ “cubit”)

mḥtj (nisbe) “northern”

mḥyt “north-wind”

mḫt “scale”

mhr “storehouse”

ms (particle: § 15.7.7) “truly”

msj (3ae-inf.) “give birth, bear”

ms “child, offspring”

mswt “birth”

msyt “supper”

msyt (noun) “waterfowl”

msnḥ (4-lit.) “spin around”

msḥ “crocodile”

mskj “gossip”

msdj/msdj (4ae-inf.) “hate”

msdr “ear”

mš “expeditionary force, army”

mšrw “evening”

mkj (3ae-inf.) “protect”

mkwt “protection”

mktj “protector”

— see mwt

mt “vessel” (of the body)

mtr/mtj (3-lit.) “testify, bear witness”; (adjective) “straightforward”; mt(r)t nt jb “innermost thoughts”

mtrt “noon”

mt (3-lit.) “taunt”

mdw “staff”; mdw jwj “staff of old age” (a son who cares for his father)

mdwj (4ae-inf.) “speak, say”; mdwj m “contest”

mdt “word, matter”

mdw “speech”; mdw-ntr “hieroglyphs”

n (preposition: § 8.2.6) “to, for”

n(j) (prepositional nisbe: § 4.13.2) “belonging to, of”

n (1pl dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

n (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

mj n “here” (literally “like this”)

ny — see §§ 5.11

nj (particle: § 15.6.8) “not, no”

njwt “town”

njs (3-lit.) “call, summon” (with r “to”)

njtjt (5-lit.) “stutter”

nj (3ae-inf.) “sail, travel by boat”

n(j)w (plural nisbe) — see n

nw (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

nw “time”

nw (2-lit.) “look after, see to”

nwj (3ae-inf.) “bring back”

nwt “Nut” (the sky: see Essay 2)

nwy “waters”

nwt “wave, swell”

nb (adjective) “all, each, every, any”

nb “lord, master, owner ”

nbt “lady, mistress, owner”

nbtj “Two Ladies” (royal title: see Essay 6)

nbw “gold”

nf (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

nf (3-lit.) “remove, take away”

nfr (adj.-verb 3-lit.) “perfect, good, beautiful”

nfr (particle: §§ 15.6.9, 26.26.3) “not at all”

nfrw “beauty”

nfryt “tiller (rope)”

nftft (5-lit.) “leap”

nmj (3ae-inf.) “travel (by foot)”; nmj-š “Nomad” (“sand traveler”)

nmt, nmtt “steps”

nmj (3-lit.) “moan”

nmtj “Nemti” (a god)

nmḥw “orphan”

nn “this, here” (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

nn (particle: § 15.6.8) “not, no”

nnm (3-lit.) “transgress”

nnk — for n(j)-(j)nk (§ 7.8)

nht “sycamore”

nhj “little, few”

nhw “loss, need”

nḥ “prayer, entreaty”

nḥbt “neck”

nḥp “potter’s wheel”

nḥm (3-lit.) “take away, save”

nḥmn (particle: § 15.6.10) “surely”

nḥḥ “eternal repetition, continuity, eternity, forever” (Essay 9)

nḥsj “Nubian” (see map)

nḫ (2-lit.) “be pitiful”

nḫw “pendant” (shaped like a fish)

nḫt (3-lit.) “be forceful, successful”

nḫt “force”

nḫt (participle/noun) “champion”

ns “tongue”

nswt “(tongue of) flame”

ns — for n(j)-sj (§ 7.8)

nsw — for n(j)-sw (§ 7.8)

nswt (noun, originally nj-swt: § 4.15) “king”

nswt-bjt (noun phrase) “Dual King” (royal title: see Essay 6)

nswyt “kingship”

nšnj “tempest, thunderstorm”

nkn “harm, punishment”

ngw “steer”

nt- — see

ntj (relative adjective) “who, which”; ntt “that, that which exists”

ntf (3ms independent pronoun: § 5.5)

ntk (2ms independent pronoun: § 5.5)

ntt (2fs independent pronoun: § 5.5)

ntr “god”

ntrj (nisbe) “divine”

— see sntr

ntrt/ntrt “goddess”

ndb for ndb (3-lit.) “sip”

ndbyt “full sail”

ndtj “savior”

ndm (3-lit.) “be sweet, easy”

ndrj (4ae-inf.) “seize”

nds (3-lit.) “be little”

nds “commoner, mister”

r (preposition) — see jr

r with numerals: see § 9.6

r “mouth, speech”

r-wj “activity”

r pw “or, either” (§ 4.12)

r-pr “temple, chapel”

r-ht “stomach, belly” (“mouth of the belly”)

r (actually, rw) “sun, day (of 24 hours)”; r nb “every day”

r “Sun, Re” (god)

— see r

rwt “gate”

rwtj (nisbe) “outside”

rwj (3ae-inf.) “go away, escape; drive off”

rwd/rwd (3-lit.) “be firm”

rwd (originally rwd) “bowstring”

rwd “strongroom, vault”

— see r

rm “fish”

rmj (3ae-inf.) “cry, weep for”

rmyt “tears” (also infinitive “cry”)

rmt “people”

rn “identity, name”

rnpw (4ae-inf.) “be young”

rnpt “year”

rnpt-ḥsb “(regnal) year” (§ 9.9)

rhnj (4ae-inf.) “rest, rely, depend”

rḫ (2-lit.) “learn, know”

rḫ “wise (man), knowledgeable”

rḫ-nswt “king’s acquaintance” (court title)

rḫwt, rḫyt “subjects”

rḫs (3-lit.) “butcher, slaughter”

rsj “totally”

rswt “dream”

ršj, ršw (3ae-inf.) “delight, rejoice”; rš (adjective) “joyful”

rqj (3ae-inf.) “oppose, revolt”

rk “time, age, era”

rtḥ (3-lit.) “restrain”

— see rmt

rtnw/ (r)tnw “Retjenu” (the area of modern Lebanon and Syria)

rd “foot”

rd “stairway, terrace”

rd (2-lit.) “grow, flourish” (spelling influenced by rwd “firm”)

rdj (anom., originally rdj) “give, put, cause”; “appoint” (r or m “to” office); rdj m ḥr “assign” (“put in the face”); rdj ḥr gs “lean to the side, be partial”

rdw “fluid”

h “courtyard”

h (interjection: § 15.8.4) “oh!”

hj (3ae-inf.) “go down, head” (r “for”)

hw “time, vicinity, area, affairs”

hb (3-lit.) “send, send word”

hbj (3ae-inf.) “thresh”

hp “law, custom”

hnw “jar; hin” (§ 9.7.4)

hrw (actually hrww) “daytime, day, (day’s) duty”; hrw nfr “holiday”

hh “blast (of fire)”

ḥ (preposition: § 8.2.8) “behind, around”; r ḥ “out, outside”

ḥj (nisbe) “one who is behind, around”

ḥ (particle: § 15.6.12) “would that, if only”

ḥt “front, beginning”; rdj ḥt n “head toward” (“give front to”); hr ḥt “before, preceding”

ḥtj “high official” (“one whose arm is in front”)

ḥtj “heart”

ḥj (3ae-inf.) “get naked, undressed”; transitive “make naked, undress, reveal”

ḥw “excess, more”; ḥw ḥr “more than” (“excess over”)

ḥb “festival”

ḥp (3-lit.) “conceal”; ḥpw ht “discreet” (“concealed of belly”)

ḥq (3-lit.) “loot, plunder”

ḥqt “plunder”

ḥjmt “woman, wife”

ḥjḥj (4-lit.) “seek”

ḥ “ship”

ḥ “body”; usually plural ḥw “body” (see Essay 7)

ḥj (3ae-inf.) “be aroused, excited”

ḥpj (noun, originally ḥpr) “inundation” (also as a god)

ḥwt “enclosure”

ḥwt-wrt “Avaris” (capital of the Hyksos, in the eastern Delta: see map)

— ḥwt-nbw “Enclosure of Gold” (a shrine)

ḥwt-ntr “temple” (“god’s enclosure”)

ḥwt-ḥrw “Hathor” (goddess: § 3.6)

ḥwj (3ae-inf.) “hit, strike, smite”; with object of place, “visit”

ḥwn “youth”

ḥwr (adjective, noun) “poor, wretched”

ḥwtf (4-lit.) “plunder”

ḥbb (5-lit.) “waddle”

ḥbs (3-lit.) “cover, clothe, get dressed”

ḥbsw “clothing, clothes”

ḥfw “snake”

ḥft “snake”

ḥm “incarnation”

ḥmw “servant”

ḥm-ntr “priest” (“god’s servant”)

ḥmt “servant”

ḥm (particle: § 15.7.8) “and, also”

— see ḥjmt

ḥmt “bronze, copper”

ḥmw “rudder”

ḥmw “craftsman”

ḥmwtj “craftsman” (nisbe from ḥmwt “craft”)

ḥmsj (4ae-inf.) “sit down; reside”

ḥms “seat”

ḥn (2-lit.) “rush, hurry, attack”

ḥn (2-lit.) “commend, command; take care of”

ḥn (preposition: § 8.2.9) “with”

ḥnw “property”

ḥnwt “mistress”

ḥnmmt “humanity”

ḥnḥn (4-lit.) “hinder”

ḥns (3-lit.) “be narrow”

ḥnqt “beer”

ḥnkyt “bed”

ḥr “face”; rdj m ḥr “assign” (“put in the face”)

ḥr-nb “everyone”

ḥr (preposition: § 8.2.10) “upon”

ḥrj (prepositional nisbe) “who/which is over, upper, chief”

ḥrj jb “middle”

ḥr ḫw (prepositional phrase) “except”

— see šj

ḥrj dp (prepositional nisbe) “chief” (also “nomarch,” nome-governor)

ḥrj-db “hornless cattle” (“one upon the finger”)

ḥrt “sky, upland”

ḥrj (3ae-inf.) “go far off”

ḥrw “Horus” (god of kingship and royal title)

ḥrw “plot, plotting”

ḥḥ “million” (§ 9.1)

— see nḥḥ

— see ḥjḥj

ḥzj (3ae-inf.) “bless”

ḥzwt “blessing”

ḥz (adj.-verb 3-lit.) “wild”

ḥsj (3ae-inf.) “sing”

ḥsb (3-lit.) “count”

ḥsq (3-lit.) “sever”

— see ḥnqt

ḥq “ruler”

ḥq-ḥwt “mayor” (“ruler of the enclosure”)

ḥqt “heqat” (§ 9.7.4)

ḥqr (3-lit.) “hunger”

ḥqrw “hunger”

ḥkw “magic”

ḥknw “oil”

ḥt “sail”

ḥtp (3-lit.) “be calm, content; occupy (a seat)”; m ḥtp “in peace, safely”

ḥtp-dj-nswt “royal offering” (see § 24.11)

ḥtpt “offerings”

ḥtm (3-lit.) “equip”

ḥtm (3-lit.) “perish”

ḥtr “team”

ḥtrj “team-ox”

ḥd (adj.-verb 2-lit.) “bright, white, silvert”; ḥd ḥr “cheerful” (literally “bright of face”); ḥd t “dawn” (“the land becomes bright”)

ḥdt “(white) hippopotamus”

ḥdwt “chapel”

ḫt “thing, property” (often written as plural)

jšwt, “things, property” (variant plural)

ḫt “fire”

ḫ “office”

ḫj (3ae-inf.) “measure, weigh, examine”

ḫ (3-lit.) “throw”

ḫwj “dusk”

ḫst “desert, desert hills, foreign land”

ḫj (3ae-inf.) “appear”

“para ḫw “appearance,” phernalia, apparel”

ḫwsj (4ae-inf.) “pound, build”

ḫwd (3-lit.) “be rich”

ḫb (3-lit.) “hoe, hack up; subtract, diminish”

ḫbj (3ae-inf.) “dance”

ḫbzwt “beard”

ḫbd (3-lit.) “despise”

ḫpj (3ae-inf.) “walk; meet”

ḫpr (3-lit.) “evolve, happen, occur; grow up”; ḫpr m “become (something/someone)” (“evolve into”)

ḫprw “evolution, development”

ḫpš “strong arm”

ḫft (preposition: § 8.2.11) “opposite, according”

ḫftj (nisbe) “opponent, enemy”

ḫm (2-lit.) “ignore, not learn, not know”

ḫmt (3-lit.) “think” (spellings influenced by ḫmtw “three” and ḫm “ignore”)

ḫn “phrase”

ḫnj (3ae-inf.) “land, alight”

ḫnm (3-lit.) “breathe”

hnms “friend”

ḫnms (4-lit.) “befriend, associate with”

ḫnrj (nisbe) “deprived”

ḫnt (preposition: § 8.2.12) “at the head of”

ḫnt “brow, front”

ḫntj (4ae-inf.) “go forward/ upstream/south”; m ḫntyt “upstream, south”

ḫnt “Upstream” (a term for Nubia)

ḫnd (3-lit.) “step on”

ḫr (preposition: § 8.2.13) “by, near, with, during”

ḫr (particle: § 15.6.13)

ḫr (2-lit.) “fall”

ḫrw “voice, sound, noise”

ḫrwj “enemy”

ḫrw “say” (§ 19.18)

ḫrp (3-lit.) “manage”

ḫsbd “lapis-lazuli”

ḫsf (3-lit.) “bar, punish”

ḫsfj (4ae-inf.) “meet, oppose”

ḫsfw “opponent”

ḫt (masculine) “wood, tree, stick, mast”

ḫt “wake, train, aftermath”; m ḫt “after,” “future” (as a noun)

— see ḫft

ḫtm (3-lit.) “seal, shut”

ḫdj (3ae-inf.) “go downstream/north”; m ḫd “downstream, north”

ht “belly, womb”

ht “corpse”

hrt “widow”

hk (3-lit.) “truncate”

hk-jb “estranged” (“truncated of heart”)

hnj (3ae-inf.) “row; transport by boat”

hnt “excursion” (in a rowboat)

hnyt “crew”

hnw “interior, home, capital (city)”; m hnw “inside”

hnm (3-lit.) “join, unite”

hnmw “Khnum” (god who forms peoples’ bodies on a potter’s wheel)

hntj “statue, picture”

hr (preposition: § 8.2.15) “under”

hrj (nisbe) “lower, underlying, having” (§ 8.6.11)

hrj-ntr, hrt-ntr “necropolis”

hrd “child, boy”

hzj (3ae-inf.) “be wretched, miserable, vile”

zj “man”

zt ḥjmt “woman”

z “son”

z zj (noun phrase) “gentry” (a man of standing in the community — “son of a man”)

zt “daughter”

z, zw “protection, safeguard”

z “phyle” (shift of priests or workers)

zj (2-lit.) “go”

j.zj (imperative) “go!” (§ 15.2.1)

zy (interrogative pronoun: § 5.12); ḥr zy jšst “how?, why?”

zjn (3-lit.) “rub”

zwr/zwj (3-lit.) “drink”

zbj (3ae-inf.) “send ”

zbt (3-lit., originally zbt) “laugh”

zp “time, occasion, event, deed”; n zp “together” ; nj zp, nn zp “never” (§§ 18.13–14)

zp 2 “twice”: see § 9.5

zpj (3ae-inf.) “remain, survive”

zft (3-lit.) “cut up, butcher”

zm (3-lit.) “join”; zm t “land” (verb), “landing” (noun)”

zn (2-lit.) “pull back”

znj (3ae-inf.) “pass” (ḥr “by”)

znf “blood”

— see snf

zḥ “tent”

zḥ “advice”

zḫz (3-lit.) “run”

zh (2-lit.) “be deaf to” (transitive)

zh (3-lit.) “write”

zh “writing”

zhw “scribe”

zh-qdwt “outline-scribe” (artist who draws the first draft for an inscription or painting)

zšj “nestling”

— see sš

— see zn

— see sd

st (dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

— see jsjr “Osiris”

— see jst

s “back”; m s “in back of, in charge of”; r s “after”; ḥr s “behind”

sj (3ae-inf.) “become sated”

swj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “extend, lengthen”; swj jb “make happy” (see wj)

sḥ (3-lit.) “touch (with the toe), kick, set foot”; sḥ t “touch land” = “be buried”

sḥ “Orion”

sḫ (caus. 2-lit.) “make effective/useful”

ss (4-lit.) “attack headlong, push back”

sj (3fs dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

sj (3-lit.) “recognize”

sjm “pleasure”

sjqr (3-lit.) “make excellent, successful”

sj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “make great”

snḫ (caus. 3-lit.) “make live, nourish”

snḫw “life-giver”

sḥ “titular, privileged person”

sḥ (caus. 3-lit.) “erect”

sq (caus. 2-lit.) “introduce, bring in”

— see nswt

sw (3ms dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

swj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “pass” (ḥr “by”)

swḥ (caus. 3-lit.) “set, make last”

swb (caus. 3-lit.) “clean, purify”

— see zwr

swrd (caus. 3-lit.) “tire”

swh (caus. 3-lit.) “extol”

swḥt “egg”

swsḫ (caus. 3-lit.) “broaden”

swt (particle: § 15.7.9) “but”

— see nswt

swdfj (caus. 4ae-inf.) “delay”

sb “star”

sb “gate, doorway”

sb (3-lit.) “teach”

sbyt “teaching, instruction”

(3ae-inf.) “rebel”

sbnw (caus. 3ae-inf.) “drift”

sbh (caus. 3-lit.) “cause to flee”

sbḥw “howling wind”

sbḫt “barrier”

sbkw “Sobek” (crocodile god)

— see zbt

spt “nome”; spt “estate, farm”

spr (3-lit.) “arrive” (r “at”)

spr “appeal, petition”

sprw “petitioner”

spdd (4-lit., originally spdd) “prepare”

sf “yesterday”

sfn (caus. 2-lit.) “be mild, merciful”

sfḫḫ (caus. 2ae-gem.) “loosen”

— see zft

sm (3-lit.) “kill”

sm (caus. 3-lit.) “make correct, direct”

smj (caus. 2-lit.) “report”

smn (caus. 2-lit.) “set, fix”

smn “goose”

smnḫ (caus. 3-lit.) “make functional, useful”; smnḫ (adjective) “useful”

smr “courtier”

smḥj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “flood, irrigate, cause to be in water”

smḫ (caus. 2-lit.) “forget” (simplex ḫm)

smsj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “cause to give birth”

smsw (adjective/noun) “eldest”

sn (2-lit.) “smell, kiss”

sn “brother, sibling”

snt “sister” (also a term for “wife”)

snnw “companion, equal” (§ 9.3)

snb (adj.-verb 3-lit.) “healthy,” “health”

snf (caus. 3-lit.) “vent”

snm (caus. 2-lit., simplex wnm) “feed”

snn “likeness”

snq (caus. 2-lit.) “suck, nurse”

sntr (noun, originally sntr) “incense”

snd (3-lit.) “become afraid”

sndw “fear”

sndm (caus. 3-lit.) “sweeten; reside”

sr (2-lit.) “predict”

srj “official”

srwj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “remove”

srd (caus. 2-lit.) “plant, cause to grow”

shj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “bring down”

shrj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “pacify”

sḥtm (caus. 3-lit.) “annihilate”

sḥrj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “distance, distance oneself”

sḥd (caus. 2-lit.) “brighten”

sḫt “field”

sḫt jrw “Field of Reeds” (a place in the sky)

sḫt ḥmt “Field of Salt” (Wadi Natrun, NW of Cairo)

sḫtj “farmer, peasant”

sḫj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “bring to mind, recall”

sḫj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “cause to appear”

sḫw “width” (see wsḫ)

sḫpr (caus. 3-lit.) “bring about, make become, raise, create”

sḫm (3-lit.) “gain/have control” (m “of”); sḫm jb “violent”

sḫmt “Sekhmet” (goddess of violence)

sḫnj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “cause to land, land”

sḫr (caus. 2-lit.) “fell, overthrow”

sḫr “plan, method, system, advice, conduct, position”

sḫry “pilot”

— see zḫz

sḫt (3-lit.) “strike”

sspd (caus. 3-lit.) “prepare”

sš (3-lit., originally šs) “be experienced, aware, wise”

sšmj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “lead”

sšmw “situation, procedure, conduct, guidance”

sšmw “leader, guide, pilot”

sqr (3-lit.) “flatten, strike down, smash”

sqr-nḫ.w “prisoner of war” (“one struck down alive”)

sqdj (caus. 3ae-inf.) “sail, voyage”

sqd “voyager, sailor”

sk (2-lit.) “wipe”

skjw “troops”

sk (3-lit.) “plow”

sgr (caus. 2-lit.) “cause to be quiet”

sgr “stillness, silence, quiet”

st (caus. 2-lit.) “light (a wick)”

stj (noun, originally stj) “smell, odor”

stj-r “breakfast”

stj (3ae-inf.) “shoot”

stt “boil”

sttjw (noun, plural) “Asiatics”

stwt (noun) “rays”

stp-z “escort; palace”

stš, sth “Seth” (god of disorder)

st (particle) — see jst

sd (2-lit.) “get dressed (in a kilt)”

sdg (caus. 3-lit.) “conceal”

sdt “flame”

sdm (3-lit.) “hear”; sdm n “listen to”

sdmw “hearer, obedient one”

sdr (3-lit.) “lie down, spend the night, sleep”

sdd (caus. 2-lit.) “relate”

š “marsh, field”; jmj-š “marshdweller”

š “boar, wild pig”

šj (3ae-inf.) “decide, determine”

šw (3-lit.) “sear”

šwbtj “shuabti” (a small statue representing the deceased)

šs (3-lit.) “go off, proceed”

šj “depression: lake, precinct; basinland”

ḥrj-šj.f “Harsaphes” (a god: “He who is on his lake”)

š “sand”

št “slaughter”

šw “sunlight”

šwt “shade, shadow”

šww “lowly, outcast, renegade”

šwj (3ae-inf.) “be empty, free” (m “of”)

špss (3ae-gem.), špsj (adj.-verb 4ae-inf.) “fine, special, noble”

špst “noblewoman”

špssw “finery, fine things”

špt (3-lit.) “get angry”

šfj (3ae-inf.) “respect”

šmj (3ae-inf.) “go, walk, journey”

šm (3-lit.) “chant”

šm “singer, chanter”

šmw “Nile Valley”

šm “thin barley” (a species)

šmw “harvest”

šmw “Harvest (season)” (§ 9.8)

šmsj (4ae-inf.) “follow”

šmsw “following”

šmsw “follower”

šnyt “circle, court”

šn (3-lit.) “refuse, bar”

šnw “ban”

šnw, šnwy “hair”

šnwt “granary”

šndyt “kilt”

šrj (adjective) “little” (from 2ae-gem.šrr)

šzp (3-lit.) “receive, accept”

šzp measurement “palm” (§ 9.7.1)

šzp “amulet; image (of a god)”

šzp (noun, originally sšp) “dawn”

šs or šst “alabaster”

šsj (caus. 3ae-inf., originally sšj) “plead, pray”

šs “wisdom” (see sš)

šsr “arrow”

šsrw (noun, originally sšrw) “linen”

št (3-lit.) “be remote, secret”

šd (originally šd) “plot (of land)”

šdj (3ae-inf.) “take, pull, rescue”

šdj (3ae-inf.) “recite, read”

qj (adj.-verb 3ae-inf.) “high”; q s “arrogant” (“high of back”)

q “hill”

qbt “breast, chest”

qbb (2ae-gem.) “cool, calm”

qbt “coolness, cool place”

qbw “cool breeze”

qm (3-lit.) “throw”

qmj (4ae-inf.) “create”

qnj (3ae-inf.) “be diligent, brave; persevere”

qn “audacity”

qnyt (noun) “braves”

qnj “embrace”

qnbt “council”

qrt “doorbolt”

qrrt “cavern”

qrs (3-lit.) “entomb”

qs “bone”

qsn (adj.-verb 3-lit.) “difficult”

qd (2-lit.) “build”

qdw “form, manner, character”; mj qd “all, entire, whole” (§ 6.7)

qdt measurement “qite” (§ 9.7.3)

qdd (2ae-gem.) “sleep”

qddw “sleep”

kt — see ky

kt-ḫj — see ky

k (particle: § 15.6.15) “then”

k “say” (§ 19.18)

k “ka” (see Essay 7)

k “bull”

kj (3ae-inf.) “think, plan”

kw “fruit, fruits”

kwt “work, works”

kr “shrine”

ky (§ 6.7) “other, another”; feminine kt; plural kjwj, kt-ḫj

kfj (3ae-inf.) “strip, unravel, rip”

kft “gash”

km (2-lit.) “complete”

km (adjective) “black” (from 2aegem. kmm)

km-wr “Great Black” (the region of the Bitter Lakes, in the area of the modern Suez Canal: see map)

kmt “Egypt” (literally “Blackland,” referring to the cultivated soil along the Nile)

kš “Kush” (northern Sudan: see map)

ktkt (4-lit.) “be surreptitious”

gw “absence, lack”

gb “side”

gbb “Geb” (god of the earth)

gp (2-lit.) “cloud up”

gm “cheekbone”

gmj (3ae-inf.) “find”

gmw “grief”

gmḥ (3-lit.) “glimpse, look at, see”

gmgm (4-lit.) “smash, crack”

gr (adj.-verb 2-lit.) “still, quiet”

grt (particle: § 15.7.10) “moreover”

grḥ “night”

grḥ “end”

grg (3-lit.) “set up, found, establish”

grg (3-lit.) “lie”

grg “lie”

grgw “lying”

gs “side, half”; rdj ḥr gs “lean to the side, be partial”

gs (2-lit.) “get anointed, anoint”

gs (3-lit.) “tilt”

t “bread”

t-ḥd “white-bread”

t (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

t “land”; r t “down”

t-wr “This” (the nome of Abydos: see map)

t-zm “landing stage”

t dsr “Sacred Land” (the necropolis)

twj “Two Lands” (Egypt)

tš “border”

tj (particle: § 15.6.16)

tjw (interjection: § 15.8.5) “yes”

tjmḥj “Libyan”

tjsw “staff”

tw (2ms dependent pronoun) — see tw

tw (impersonal pronoun: § 14.5)

(subject pronoun: § 10.5)

twt “image”

twr/twj (3-lit.) “show respect” (ḥr “for”)

tf (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

— see jtj “father”

tm (2-lit.) “fail to do, not do”

tm “mat” (the writing shows the loss of final in pronunciation)

tmm (2ae-gem.) “close, shut”

tn (demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8)

— see tnj

— see tnw

tr (particle: § 15.7.11)

tr “time, season”

thj (3ae-inf.) “mislead, violate”

tḫ (2-lit.) “get drunk”

tḫtḫ (4-lit.) “mess up, disorder”

tk “wick, taper”

tj (3ae-inf.) “take”

tw/ty “man, male”

tw “air, wind, breath”

tbt “loan of grain”

tm (3-lit.) “veil”; tm ḥr “lenience” (“veiling of the face”)

tz (3-lit.) “tie, knot”; tz skjw “raise troops”

tz “sentence (of speech)”

tw/tw (2ms dependent pronoun: § 5.4)

tbwt “sandal”

tnj/tnj (interrogative adverb: § 8.13) “where?”

tnj (3ae-inf., originally tnj) “distinguish”

tnw/tnw “each, every” (§ 6.7)

tḥnw “the Libyan desert”

tzj (3ae-inf.) “pick up, lift”

— see drt

d (2-lit.) “shake”

djw “kilt”

dr (3-lit.) “subdue” (originally dj)

dj (anom.) — see rdj

dw (3-lit.) “worship”

dww “morning, tomorrow”

dwt “Duat” (see Essay 2)

dwn (3-lit.) “stretch”

db — see db

dbb (2ae-gem.) “stop up, block”

dbn measurement “deben” (§ 9.7.3)

dbḥ (3-lit.) “ask, require”

dp (preposition: § 8.2.16) “upon”

dpj (prepositional nisbe) “who/which is upon”; dpj t “survivor, one who is on earth”

dpj “head” (see also dd)

dpj (nisbe) “first, headman”

dpt “first-class oil”

dp (2-lit.) “taste”

dpwt “boat, ship”

dmj (3-lit.) “reach, touch”

dmj “harbor”; also “town” (in New Kingdom texts)

dmdj (4ae-inf., originally dmdj) “unite, total, sum”

dmd “total”

dr (2-lit.) “remove, repulse”

dḥj (3-lit.) “humiliate”

ds “flint, flint knife”

dgj (3ae-inf.) “look”

dg (3-lit.) “hide”

dgmj (4ae-inf.) “become dazed”

dt “body, self”

dt “estate”; rmt-dt “personnel” (“people of the estate”)

dt “eternal sameness, eternity, forever” (Essay 9)

dj (3ae-inf.) “cross (the river), ferry”

dmw “cohort”

drw “need”

dd “head”

ddt “lyre”

d “windstorm”

dm “electrum”

dr (3-lit.) “probe, seek out”

dw “mountain”

dwj (3ae-inf.) “be evil, bad”

dwt “evil”

db (originally db) (3-lit.) “replace”

dfw “food”

dr “limit”; r dr “all, whole, entire” (§ 6.7)

dr (2-lit.) “end up”

dr (preposition: § 8.2.17) “since”

drt “hand”

drt “calf”

drdr “stranger”

dḥwtj “Thoth” (god of wisdom, counting, and writing)

ds “self, own” (see § 8.14)

dd (2-lit.) “say, tell, speak”

dd-mdw “recitation” (§ 13.9)

ddwt “sayings”

ddj (3ae-inf.) “be stable, steady”

ddw “Busiris” (a town in the Delta: see map)

ddf (3-lit.) “crawl, have goosebumps (of skin), stand on end (of hair)”

TEXT REFERENCES

This index lists the texts cited in Lessons 1 – 26, arranged alphabetically by the abbreviation used in the citations. Numbers following the dash (—) refer to Lesson sections (e.g., 18.8 = § 18.8) unless preceded by “Essay” or “p.” (page); numbers preceded by “Ex” refer to the Exercises (e.g., Ex15–24 = Exercise 15, no. 24).

Adm. — R. Enmarch, The Dialogue of Ipuwer and the Lord of All (Oxford, 2005)

1, 1 — 18.8

2, 3 — 23.9

2, 4 — 17.11

2, 5 — 16.10

2, 8 — 15.7.7

2, 8–9 — Ex15–24

2, 9 — 18.16

2, 10 — Ex10–3

2, 13 — 23.6

3, 2 — Ex18–19

3, 5 — 19.2

3, 7 — 22.20

3, 8 — 17.2

3, 13 — Ex22–16

4, 12 — Ex8–9

5, 14 — Ex7–42

5, 9 — 25.5

6, 5 — 17.8

6, 7 — 19.2

6, 7–8 — Ex19–2

6, 8 — 8.5

6, 13 — Ex14–12

7, 3 — 6.7

7, 10 — 10.4.1

7, 10–11 — 20.8

7, 13–14 — Ex23–4

8, 1 — 13.17

8, 2 — Essay 10, Ex16–20

9, 1–2 — 24.4

9, 3–4 — Ex22–6

9, 4 — 23.13

9, 4–5 — Ex23–3

11, 13 — Ex19–3

12, 1 — 25.10

12, 2 — 18.2

12, 5 — 15.7.2, 16.11

14, 13 — Ex11–21

14, 14 — 14.9

Amduat — E. Hornung, Das Amduat, die Schrift des verborgenen Raumes, 3 vols. (ÄA 7 and 13; Wiesbaden, 1963 and 1967)

III, 4 — 22.18

III, 15 — Ex24–11

Amenemhat — F. Adrom, Die Lehre des Amenemhet (BA 19; Turnhout, 2006)

1, 3 — 8.2.10

1, 6 — 17.2

1, 7 — Ex22–32

1, 11–12 — 17.7

2, 3 — 17.8

2, 4 — Ex11–13

2, 5 — 19.13

2, 6 — 21.5

2, 7 — Ex17–15

2, 7–8 — 18.16

3, 2 — 17.2

3, 8 — Ex8–27, Ex14–24

ASAE — Annales du Service des Antiquités de l’Égypte

23 (1923), 6 — 20.9.1

BD — E. Naville, Das aegyptische Todtenbuch der XVIII. bis XX. Dynastie, 3 vols. (Berlin, 1886)

BD Nu — G. Lapp, Catalogue of Books of the Dead in the British Museum, I: The Papyrus of Nu (BM EA 10477) (London, 1997)

1 — Ex7–41

6 Nu — Ex19–18

15a 1 La — Essay 23

17 — 22.6, Essay 22

17 Da — 7.9

27 — Ex15–32

27 Nu — 13.17, 18.15

52 Nu — 19.18, 24.6

69 Ca — 7.7

72 — 9.4

99 Nu — 19.9

110 — Ex11–12

112 — 15.1

122 Nu — 7.13

125 — 7.13, Essay 22

148 — 21.4

154 Nu — 18.11

175 — 19.9

Beni Hasan — P. E. Newberry and F. Ll. Griffith, Beni Hasan, 4 vols. (ASE 1–2, 5, 7; London, 1893–1900)

I, pl. 24, 3 — 13.4.2

I, pl. 8, 15 — 16.5

I, pl. 8, 4 — 23.5

I, pl. 8, 11 — 13.11.3

I, pl. 25, 96–99 — 18.13

I, pl. 25, 110–13 — 22.21

I, pl. 26, 166–67 — Ex7–3

I, pl. 30 — 13.3.1, Essay 17

I, pl. 41 c — 19.13

Bersheh — P. E. Newberry and F. Ll. Griffith, El Bersheh, 2 vols. (ASE 3–4; London, 1894)

I, pl. 14, 1 — 7.4, 20.3

I, pl. 14, 14 — 20.9.1

I, pl. 15 — Ex7–27, 22.14

I, pl. 20 — 10.2

II, 25 — 16.3

II, pl. 21, 4–5 — 13.10

BM — E. Budge, Hieroglyphic Texts from Egyptian Stelae, etc., in the British Museum, vols. 1–4 (London, 1911–13)

101 c 7 — 23.5

159, 11 — 22.15

558, 4 — 23.9

574, 1 — 22.24

574, 15 — Ex8–16

Bremner-Rhind — R.O. Faulkner, The Papyrus Bremner-Rhind (British Museum No. 10188) (BA 3; Brussels, 1932-33)

26, 24 — Essay 13

28, 22 — Essay 13

Brunner, Chrestomathie — H. Brunner, Hieroglyphische Chrestomathie (Wiesbaden, 1965)

pl. 11, 2–3 — 22.17.2

pl. 11, 4–5 — 22.24

pl. 11, 10 — 18.2

pl. 11, 17 — 22.13

CG — L. Borchardt, Statuen und Statuetten von Königen und Privatleuten im Museum zu Kairo, Nr. 1-1294, 3 vols. (Berlin, 1911–36); H. Lange and H. Schäfer, Grab- und Denksteine des Mittleren Reiches, 4 vols. (Berlin, 1902–25) (CG 20001–20780); P. Lacau, Sarcophages antérieurs au Nouvel Empire, 2 vols. (Cairo, 1904–1906) (CG 28001–28126)

405 — 15.8.4

20001 b 6 — 16.3, 21.9

20003 a 1–3 — 18.12, 25.8.1

20003 a 3–4 — 26.26.3

20003 a 6 — 17.9

20003, 4 — 9.4

20057b/c/d — 13.3.1

20057 d 1–2 — 13.8

20089 d 5 — 24.2

20133 e — 22.14

20162 a 1 — 24.9

20358 b 1 — 24.9

20485 b 4 — 22.6

20512 b 4 — 17.2

20530, 1 — 15.8.1

20530, 7 — 11.5

20537, 4–5 — Ex22–9

20538 I c 10 — 24.6

20538 II c 12 — Ex23–5, 24.2, 24.7

20538 II c 12–13 — 23.8

20538 II c 15–16 — Ex23–6

20538 IIc, 19 — 10.7, 11.9.2

20539 I b 10 — 23.5

20539 I b 20–21 — 26.26.4

20539 IIb 5 — Essay 13

20543, 16 — 15.7.5

20543, 17 — Ex20–1

20606 b 3 — 21.9

20720, 1–6 — Ex22–33

20729 a 1–3 — 22.16

20729 a 3 — 18.13

CT — A. de Buck, The Egyptian Coffin Texts, 7 vols. (OIP 34, 49, 64, 67, 73, 81, 87; Chicago, 1935–61)

I, 17b — 19.13

I, 27c — 15.8.2

I, 30d–31a B6C — 26.19

I, 31b — 22.8

I, 76i — 19.18

I, 92b — 19.18

I, 106b–c — Ex20–2

I, 107b — 19.18

I, 119d S1C — Ex15–31

I, 121b — 19.18

I, 140c — 13.3.1

I, 154g — 13.3.1

I, 160b–c — 17.10

I, 167f — 19.13

I, 176k — 19.13

I, 187e — 25.11

I, 188a–189a — Ex18–22

I, 236b — 18.10

I, 242f — Ex19–16

I, 254f — 7.8

I, 271a — 4.13.2

I, 273f–g — 19.12

I, 275f — 17.2

I, 277c — 11.11.2

I, 278d–f — 25.10

I, 312e–f — Ex23–13

I, 312i — Ex18–9

I, 340d — 22.8

I, 344–45c — 13.20

I, 359c — 19.2

I, 382–383a — 23.5

I, 383a M23C — 23.5

I, 390c–91a — Ex21–22

I, 398b — 19.2

II, 1g — 23.10

II, 2c–f — Essay 12

II, 3d — 7.12

II, 3d–e — Essay 12

II, 22b B1Bo — 7.10

II, 29d–30d — Essay 4

II, 33e–f — Essay 12

II, 39e — Essay 12

II, 58c — 19.13

II, 62c — 19.2

II, 70c B3L — 21.4

II, 77a B3L — 21.4

II, 97c — 19.9

II, 112e — 19.7

II, 159e — 19.18

II, 166b — 19.12

II, 174f–i — 19.12

II, 197c — 19.9

II, 213c — 15.2.2

II, 214a-b — Ex21–2

II, 221f–22c — Ex21–24

II, 271e S1C — Ex8–32

II, 272a — 24.8

II, 291l–m — Ex13–23

II, 292a — Ex10–21

II, 318c — 13.3.1

II, 334–335d — 19.9

II, 338a — Ex14–15

II, 340a — Ex14–16

II, 344b — 13.3.2

II, 350a — 26.18

II, 377c B17C — 18.9

II, 381e — 24.2

II, 384a — 18.6

II, 389b — 17.6

II, 400a — 19.14

II, 401a — 19.13

II, 401b — 19.13

III, 4e–f G1T — 16.10

III, 21f–g — 25.9

III, 48g — 19.18

III, 49e — 21.4

III, 59b — 7.13

III, 68f — 13.3.1

III, 81a–b/d — Ex25–21

III, 86f–i — Ex19–14

III, 86h — 19.18

III, 115g–h — 25.9

III, 130a — 13.3.1

III, 142d B3C and B1Bo — 19.2

III, 148c — 19.9

III, 181b–c — 21.3

III, 197a — 19.2

III, 204a — 21.13

III, 259g — 8.10

III, 324g–h — 22.19

III, 327a — 13.10

III, 334a — 13.19, 13.20

III, 342b — 16.5

III, 382e–384c — Essay 13

III, 390e — 11.6

III, 396g — 13.16

IV, 30b — Ex6–1e

IV, 37f — Ex7–25

IV, 48d — 10.4.4

IV, 68b — Ex15–29

IV, 69a — 18.2

IV, 83b — 19.9

IV, 91j — 19.4

IV, 94q — 19.18

IV, 95a — 24.2

IV, 128i–129b S1C — Ex15–1

IV, 134c — 17.6

IV, 145b–c — Essay 13

IV, 167e — 18.2

IV, 174a — 13.9

IV, 176e–g — Ex15–27

IV, 180f — 13.20

IV, 181p–q — 13.20

IV, 182n — Ex22–15

IV, 183a — 23.5

IV, 184b–186a M4C — 20.17

IV, 193b — 8.2.7

IV, 200b — Ex7–4

IV, 231a — 7.9

IV, 232b M4C — 13.10

IV, 236b Sq1C — 4.13.2

IV, 237b M1C — 4.13.1

IV, 237b T3Be — 4.13.2

IV, 255b–257a T1Be — 1.9

IV, 287a — 7.13

IV, 287d — 19.9

IV, 311c–312c — 18.8

IV, 324a — 18.2

IV, 330b — 23.5

IV, 336d T1Be — 13.5.2

IV, 345a–c — Ex15–28

IV, 357a — 19.9

IV, 379b — 19.9

IV, 383e T3Be — 23.5

V, 8b — 13.18

V, 16f — Ex13–2

V, 38a — 13.18

V, 49b–c — Ex21–1

V, 62c M22C — 19.7

V, 91c — 22.7

V, 96b M2C — 17.12

V, 97f — 6.7

V, 99b–c — 23.15

V, 99b–d — 20.11

V, 102a — 7.13

V, 102g — 17.12

V, 113b — Ex25–20

V, 115c — 17.12

V, 131a — 18.9

V, 184a — 6.7

V, 186f–g — 19.14

V, 199g–200b — Ex19–17

V, 200b — 19.9

V, 207c — 19.13

V, 209i–j — 19.11

V, 223d/i — 16.8

V, 223d–e — 16.10

V, 238c — 18.2

V, 250k–n — Ex25–22

V, 312g — 19.2

V, 312h — 19.2

V, 323h–i — Ex25–1

V, 326h — 25.11

V, 330h — 13.17

V, 373b — 22.5

V, 389g–h — 23.7

VI, 144a — Ex13–25

VI, 167a-b S10C — 19.7

VI, 196t — 10.8

VI, 210i — 21.7

VI, 224r — 17.2

VI, 240f — 7.8, 11.9.3

VI, 247l — 19.9

VI, 268o — Essay 13

VI, 273d — 22.5

VI, 275t — 16.6

VI, 278b — 21.4

VI, 283k — 21.4

VI, 318j–k — 21.5

VI, 323g — Essay 22

VI, 332p–q — 25.10

VI, 338c–d — 25.9

VI, 343n — Essay 12

VI, 344b–d — Essay 13

VI, 344c — 23.11

VI, 370t — 23.5

VI, 401n–o — Ex25–3

VI, 403n — 22.21

VI, 408o — 21.4

VII, 11o — 25.11

VII, 18u — 23.11

VII, 49m — Ex7–29

VII, 61c — 13.17

VII, 96p–q — 22.7

VII, 168b — Ex18–21

VII, 212o — 19.9

VII, 241k — 23.10

VII, 271c–272a — 20.10

VII, 321a–b — 20.5

VII, 358d–359b B2P — Ex15–30

VII, 377c — 23.5

VII, 413d — 18.2

VII, 418c–419c — Ex19–13

VII, 438c–d — Ex21–19

VII, 463f–464b — Essay 10

VII, 467f — 19.9

VII, 470a-b — 20.5

Davies, Rekhmire — N. de G. Davies, The Tomb of Rekh-mi-Re‘ at Thebes (9 PMMA 11; New York, 1943)

pl. 11, 11–12 — 16.8

pl. 96, 1, 11 — Ex15–14

DeG — N. de G. Davies, The Rock Tombs of Deir el-Gebrâwi, 2 vols. (ASE 11–12. London, 1902)

I, Pl. 13 — 13.9

Dunham, Naga-ed-Dêr Stelae — D. Dunham, Naga-ed-Dêr Stelae (Boston, 1937)

pl. 7 no. 2 — Ex20–3

Dunham, Uronarti — D. Dunham, Second Catarct Forts II: Uronarti, Shalfak, Mirgissa (Boston, 1967)

pl. 15, 3 — 14.5

Ebers — H. Grapow, Grundriss der Medizin der Alten Ägypter, V: Die medizinische Texte in hieroglyphischer Umschreibung autographiert (Berlin, 1958)

1, 11 — 22.3

1, 6 — 23.4, 23.5

1, 7–8 — 7.8, 11.9.3

2, 6 — 13.11.4

2, 12–13 — 24.6

4, 18 — 9.5

13, 20–21 — 22.6

19, 2 — 8.2.10

19, 11 — Ex6–1n

30, 7 — 22.8

30, 16 — 18.2

30, 16 — 18.2

36, 7 — 19.9

36, 8 — 19.9

36, 9 — 19.9

36, 17 — 16.3

36, 19 — 19.9

37, 3 — 16.3

38, 3 — 16.3

39, 2 — 16.3

40, 1 — 18.2

40, 18–19 — 19.10

40, 5 — 22.10

42, 15 — 23.4

48, 3–4 — Ex18–20

49, 1–2 — 22.11

49, 8 — 20.16

51, 15–16 — 22.13

54, 20 — 19.9

56, 18 — 24.2

58, 10–11 — Ex23–15

59, 7–8 — 13.5.2

67, 5 — 24.2

68, 8 — 13.10

69, 3 — 11.11.1

71, 15 — 4.13.2

75, 2 — 13.3.1

76, 8 — 16.3

78, 6–7 — 4.12

86, 13 — 13.17

87, 9–10 — 18.11

88, 4 — 22.10

98, 14b — 22.14

99, 13 — 4.12, 8.2.9

101, 15 — Ex10–10

102, 1–2 — 22.12

102, 2–3 — Ex22–12

102, 13 — 8.2.15

102, 15–16 — 21.12

103, 2–3 — Ex23–12

104, 8 — 11.6

105, 2 — 16.3

107, 1 — 19.9

108, 6 — 17.2

108, 20 — Ex11–8

Erichsen, Lesestücke — W. Erichsen, Demotische Lesestücke (Leipzig, 1937–40)

I, 73 — 1.10

Erman, Hymnen — A. Erman, Hymnen an das Diadem der Pharaonen (APAW; Berlin, 1911)

1, 1–2 — 22.19

13, 4–5 — 15.2.4

Gardiner, EG — A. H. Gardiner, Egyptian Grammar, 3rd ed. (Oxford, 1964)

§ 301 — 13.6

p. 309 — 13.4.1

Gauthier, LdR — H. Gauthier, Le livre des rois d’Égypte, 5 vols. (MIFAO, 17–21; Cairo, 1907–17)

I, 319–36 — Essay 6

Gen. 1:3–4 — Essay 13

Hamm. — J. Couyat and P. Montet, Les Inscriptions hiéroglyphiques et hiératiques du Ouâdi Hammâmât (MIFAO 34; Cairo, 1912)

12, 3 — 13.10

43, 1 — 9.9

43, 6 — 24.2

110, 4 — 26.18

110, 6 — 19.2, 19.5

113, 10 — Ex21–23

114, 10–12 — 25.13.2

114, 12 — Ex9–2i

114, 13 — 9.4

114, 15–16 — Essay 21

114, 16 — 24.2

191, 4 — 16.2

Harris I — W. Erichsen, Papyrus Harris I: Hieroglypische Transkription (BA 5; Brussels, 1933)

73, 5 — 9.1

Harris 500 — B. Mathieu, La poésie amoureuse de l’Égypte ancienne: recherches sur un genre littéraire au Nouvel Empire (BdE 115; Cairo, 1996)

7, 2–3 — Essay 23

Hatnub — R. Anthes, Die Felsinschriften von Hatnub (UGAÄ 9; Leipzig, 1928)

14, 5 — 17.2

14, 6 — 17.3

14, 9 — 7.6

16, 10 — 17.2

22, 2–3 — 18.9

24, 7 — 17.2

24, 9 — 17.2

25, 19–20 — Ex14–13, Ex20–8

49 — 11.6

49, 5 — 25.8.2

49, 10–11 — Ex23–18

Hayes, PLMK — W. C. Hayes, A Papyrus of the Late Middle Kingdom in the Brooklyn Museum (Brooklyn, 1955)

54, 57–58 — Essay 7

Hearst med. — H. Grapow, Grundriss der Medizin der Alten Ägypter, V: Die medizinische Texte in hieroglyphischer Umschreibung autographiert (Berlin, 1958)

4, 13 — 22.12

11, 14 — 9.4

12, 1 — 4.12

12, 13 — 13.9

Helck, Djedefhor — W. Helck, Die Lehre des Djedefhor und die Lehre eines Vaters an seinen Sohn (KÄT; Wiesbaden, 1984)

29 — Ex22–22

39 — Ex18–14

66 — Ex18–10

Helck, HBT — W. Helck, Historischbiographische Texte der 2. Zwischenzeit und neue Texte der 18. Dynastie (KÄT 6; Wiesbaden, 1975)

5 — 18.2, 21.4

21 — 13.14.1, Ex17–4

22 — Ex5–11, 14.6, 18.8, Ex20–20, 22.17.1, Ex22–26

23 — 20.9.1, 21.8, Ex22–2

23–24 — Ex19–6

24 — 8.2.4, 20.3

25 — 17.2, 19.2

27 — 18.9, 21.8

28 — 4.13.2, Ex6–1g, Ex7–8, Ex7–9, 10.8, 22.17.4, Ex23–2

29 — 8.2.5, Ex10–2, 26.19

49 — 8.14, 18.7

82 — 24.2

84 — 14.4

85 — Ex5–1b, 16.7

86 — 10.5, 11.9.2

90 — Ex25–7

91 — 20.7

92 — Ex5–1r, Ex7–10, Ex16–21, 25.8.2

93 — 17.4, 20.15, Ex23–7

94 — 3.7, 5.11, 8.2.15, 10.4.1, Ex19–8, Ex22–8, Ex22–24

96 — Ex11–5, 13.8, Ex16–22

107 — Ex7–11

109 — 13.3.2

Helck, Nilhymnus — W. Helck, Der Text des “Nilhymnus” (KÄT; Wiesbaden, 1972)

3–8 — Essay 23

4 — 23.5

13 — 23.5, 23.7

20 — 15.6.13

68 — 22.14

71 — 18.11

Heqanakht — J. P. Allen, The Heqanakht Papyri (PMMA 27; New York, 2002)

I, 5–6 — 26.26.3

I, 9 — 23.6

I, 14 — Ex11–4, 13.3.1

I, vo. 7 — Ex25–4

I, vo. 8 — 18.2

I, vo. 9 — Ex21–10, 22.18

I, vo. 11–12 — Ex25–5

I, vo. 14 — 23.6

I, vo. 16 — 13.8

II, 3–4 — Ex25–6

II, 28 — Ex24–10

II, 29–30 — 25.7

II, 31 — 26.26.3

II, 34 — Ex15–13

II, 38 — 18.2

II, 41 — 10.8

II, 42 — 24.4

III, 8 — 23.13

III, vo. 3 — Essay 25

IV — Essay 25

V, 35 — 9.7.4

Herdsman — A. H. Gardiner, Die Erzählung des Sinuhe und die Hirtengeschichte (HP 5; Berlin, 1909)

4–5 — Ex20–16

6 — 18.14

23 — 19.3

24–25 — Ex20–17

Herodotus, History II, 37 — Essay 4

Himmelskuh — E. Hornung, Der ägyptische Mythos von der Himmelskuh: eine Ätiologie des Unvollkommenen, 3rd ed. (OBO 46; Freiburg, 1997)

2 — 23.6, Ex25–2

3 — 22.14

3–4 — Ex19–9

4 — 19.13

13 — 16.6

20 — 23.5

25 — Ex19–11, 21.10

26 — 23.5, 23.7, 23.11

28 — 22.17.2

28–29 — 19.11

29 — 18.7, 23.5

HO — J. Černý and A. H. Gardiner, Hieratic Ostraca (Oxford, 1957)

75, vo. 6 — Essay 17

Hornung, Seti I — E. Hornung, The Tomb of Pharaoh Seti I / Das Grab Sethos’ I. (Zurich and Munich, 1991)

Pl. 16, col. 210 — Ex1–1c

JEA — Journal of Egyptian Archaeology

16 (1930), 19, 1 — 21.4

20 (1934), 158 — 21.7

31 (1945), pl. 2A, 12 — Ex9–2e

31 (1945), pl. 3A, 13 — 19.18

31 (1945), pl. 3A, 13–14 — 25.5

31 (1945), pl. 3A, 14 — 8.2.10, 17.12, 25.6

31 (1945), pl. 5a — Ex19–12

33 (1947), 7, 7–8 — Ex17–3

33 (1947), 7, 9 — 22.18

47 (1961), 7, 5 — 17.2, 17.3

JNES — Journal of Near Eastern Studies 19 (1960), fig. 1, 8–9 — 17.4

John 1:1–3 — Essay 14

Kagemni — A. H. Gardiner, JEA 32 (1946)

1, 2 — 13.17

1, 3 — Ex11–19

1, 3–4 — 22.14

1, 9 — 13.17

2, 2 — Ex22–23

2, 6 — 14.6

2, 7 — 18.4

2, 8 — 19.2

Kahl, FäWb — J. Kahl et al., Frühägyptisches Wörterbuch (Wiesbaden, 2000–)

156 — 13.3.1

Kahun — F. Ll. Griffith, The Petrie Papyri: Hieratic Papyri from Kahun and Gurob, 2 vols. (London, 1898)

pl. 2, 11 — Ex7–1

pl. 2, 17 — Ex15–21

pl. 2, 19 — 15.6.4

pl. 5, 33–34 — 20.8

pl. 6, 15 — 18.2

pl. 6, 17 — 18.2

pl. 7, 68 — 19.9

pl. 8, 19 — 9.1

pl. 9, 1 — Ex9–2a

pl. 11, 18 — 24.6

pl. 11, 21–22 — Ex10–26

pl. 11, 23 — 22.4

pl. 12, 4 — 10.7

pl. 12, 8 — 24.6

pl. 13, 1 — 24.6

pl. 13, 24 — 24.2

pl. 16, 13–20 — Ex9–4

pl. 28, 36 — 14.5

pl. 29, 2–4 — Essay 25

pl. 29, 41–42 — 19.19

pl. 29, 42 — 19.18

pl. 30, 41 — Ex17–6

pl. 30, 8–11 — 19.8

pl. 31, 6–7 — 20.9.2

pl. 31, 13–16 — 19.19

pl. 31, 16 — 19.18

pl. 31, 19–20 — Ex17–2

pl. 34, 20 — 18.9

pl. 35, 28 — 24.6

pl. 36, 25 — Ex6–11

Kêmi

3 (1930), 61 — 13.4.2

3 (1930), 95 — Ex15–20

Kemit — G. Posener, Catalogue des ostraca hiératiques littéraires de Deir el-Médineh, Nos. 1227–1266,Vol. II (DF 18; Cairo, 1972)

pl. 2 — 21.9

pl. 5 — 22.18

pl. 8 — 22.14

pl. 17 — 19.5

Khakh. — A. H. Gardiner, The Admonitions of an Egyptian Sage from a Hieratic Papyrus in Leiden (Leipzig, 1909)

2 — Ex24–18

3 — 19.2, Ex24–19

6 — Ex21–11, 23.13, Ex25–8

13–14 — Ex18–6

vo. 1 — 15.7.6, Ex20–22

Khety — W. Helck, Die Lehre des Dw-Htjj, 2 vols. (KÄT; Wiesbaden, 1970)

I, 28–29 — Ex21–9

I, 60 — Ex18–18

II, 86 — 18.3

II, 89 — Ex8–31

KRI — K. Kitchen, Ramesside Inscriptions, Historical and Biographical, 8 vols. (Oxford: 1975–90)

I, 12, 10 — Essay 17

II, 249, 13 — Essay 17

II, 356, 9–11 — Essay 13

IV, 16, 10 — 15.2.3

IV, 19, 3 — Essay 17

L to D — A. H. Gardiner and K. Sethe, Egyptian Letters to the Dead, Mainly from the Old and Middle Kingdoms (London, 1928)

pl. 2, 5 — 17.2

pl. 3, 2 — 18.10

pl. 6, 3–4 — 23.6

pl. 6 — Essay 25

Lacau and Chevrier, Hatshepsout — P. Lacau and H. Chevrier, Une chapelle d’Hatshepsout à Karnak, 2 vols. Cairo, 1977–79

291 — 20.12

pl. 11 — 19.9

LD — R. Lepsius, Denkmaeler aus Aegypten und Aethiopien, 6 vols. (1849)

III, 72 — Ex17–16

Leb. — J. P. Allen, The Debate between a Man and His Soul, a Masterpiece of Ancient Egyptian Literature (CHANE 44; Leiden and Boston, 2011)

5 — Ex16–23

11 — Ex14–20

12 — 13.11.1

20 — Ex7–13, 11.11.2

20–21 — 7.10

31 — 11.5

35–36 — Ex14–21

37 — 7.6

38 — Ex7–14

41–42 — 22.4

45–46 — 18.15

67 — 15.7.2

67–68 — Ex15–7

75 — 16.3

77 — 13.13

78–80 — 23.7

79 — 23.5

83–84 — Ex14–22, Ex17–14

98–99 — 24.6

103 — 24.2

104 — 17.11

105–108 — Ex14–23

114–15 — 24.6

116–18 — Ex25–9

122 — 11.4

126–27 — 16.12

132 — 10.3

133 — 8.2.15

Leiden I 350 — J. Zandee, Hymnen aan Amon van Pap. Leiden I 350 (OMRO 28; Leiden, 1947)

3, 26; 4, 1–15 — Essay 15

4, 17–19 — Essay 15

4, 21–22 — Essay 15

Leiden V — P. A. A. Boeser, Beschrijving van de Egyptische Verzameling in het Rijksmuseum van Oudheden te Leiden: de monumenten van den tijd tusschen het Oude en het Middelrijk en van Middelrijk, I: Stèles (’s-Gravenhage, 1909)

4, 12 — 24.2

4, 7 — 23.5

38 b 3 — 23.4, 23.5

88, 10–11 — Ex24–12

LEM — A. H. Gardiner, Late-Egyptian Miscellanies (BA 7; Brussels, 1937)

22, 3 — Essay 17

LES — A. H. Gardiner, Late-Egyptian Stories (BA 1; Brussels, 1932)

74, 5 — Essay 17

76, 12 — Essay 17

Licht — J. Gautier and G. Jéquier, Les fouilles de Licht (MIFAO 6: Cairo, 1902)

54 fig. 53 — 1.6

85 fig. 102 — 22.25.1

Louvre — E. Gayet, Musée du Louvre: Stèles de la XIIe Dynastie (BEHE 68; Paris, 1886)

C5, 3 — 23.13

C15, 3 — Ex22–14

C15, 7 — 21.3

Matt. 25:40 — Essay 26

Meir — A. M. Blackman and M. R. Apted, The Rock Tombs of Meir, 6 vols. (ASE 22–25, 28–29; London, 1914–53

I, pl. 5 — 14.9

I, pl. 10 — 15.2.1

III, pl. 11 — Ex21–15

III, pl. 23 — 18.13

V, pl. 18 — 1.6

Merikare — J. F. Quack, Studien zur Lehre für Merikare (GOF 23; Wiesbaden, 1992)

1, 2 — 15.1, Ex15–8

3, 2 — 15.1

3, 6 — Ex18–4

3, 11 — Ex16–24

3, 11–4, 1 — 20.13

4, 2 — Ex15–9

4, 7 — 15.1

4, 7–8 — Ex20–19

4, 8 — 17.11

4, 9 — Essay 18

5, 2 — 16.6

5, 3 — 22.13

5, 4 — 22.11

5, 9–10 — 19.6, 25.8.3

5, 10 — Ex18–24

6, 1 — 9.4

6, 2 — 9.4, 23.5

6, 3 — 15.1

6, 11 — Ex17–12

8, 6 — 19.2

8, 7 — 8.2.5

9, 1 — 8.2.17, Ex14–14, 20.15

10, 9–10 — 18.14

11, 3 — 24.3

11, 6 — Ex23–1

11, 7 — 22.14

11, 7–8 — Ex15–10

11, 8 — Ex22–25

11, 9 — 20.13

11, 10–12, 8 — Essay 5, Ex25–23

12, 1–2 — 20.13

12, 6–7 — Essay 13

12, 7 — 8.2.5

12, 11 — 15.3

13, 4 — Ex8–28

E 53–54 — 21.13

Moalla — J. Vandier, Moalla: la tombe d’Ankhtifi et la tomb de Sébekhotep (BdE 18; Cairo, 1950)

163 — Ex21–17

185 — 14.8

MuK. — A. Erman, Zauberspruch für Mutter und Kind aus dem Papyrus 3027 des Berliner Museums (APAW; Berlin, 1901)

1, 2 — 4.13.1

1, 4 — 23.4

1, 7 — Ex25–10

2, 3 — 25.13.2

2, 8–9 — Ex11–9

2, 10 — 19.14

3, 5–6 — 24.6

3, 6 — 15.4

13, 3 — 17.2

vo. 2, 3 — 10.4.2, 11.4

vo. 4, 7 — 7.7

Naville, DB — E. Naville, The Temple of Deir el Bahari, 7 vols. (EEF 12–14, 16, 19, 27, 29; London, 1894–1908)

IV, pl. 114 — 25.9

V, pl. 116 — 9.8

Naville, Iouiya — The Funeral Papyrus of Iouiya (London, 1908)

pl. 22 — 19.13

Neferti — W. Helck, Die Prophezeiung des Nfr.tj (KÄT; Wiesbaden, 1970)

4 — Ex15–11, 23.5

6 — 21.8, 25.13.2

7–8 — Essay 18

10 — 6.5, 22.10

12–13 — Ex15–12

17–18 — 23.13

18 — 23.13

20 — 23.13

22 — 24.1, Ex24–17

23 — 16.7

24 — 23.5

24–26 — Ex25–11

26 — 16.7

26–27 — 20.13

27 — Ex14–2

35–36 — 14.3

39 — 14.5

40 — Ex14–3

43 — Ex21–21

47 — Ex19–5

51 — Ex20–15

51–52 — 25.8.1

59 — 22.10

61 — 4.13.2

62–63 — 17.4

63–65 — Ex14–4

69–70 — 23.13

Paheri — E. Naville et al., Ahnas el Medineh (Heracleopolis Magna) and the Tomb of Paheri at el Kab (EEF 11; London, 1894)

pl. 3 — 7.4, 14.5

pl. 7 — 14.8, Ex15–19

pl. 9 — Essay 8

pl. 9, 12–19 — Ex18–1

pl. 9, 14 — 18.2

pl. 9, 18 — 18.3

pBerlin 3029 — A. de Buck, in A. M. Blackman, ed., Studia Aegyptiaca I (AnOr 17; Rome, 1938), 48–57

1, 4 — Ex14–25

1, 5–6 — Ex22–17, 23.7

1, 7 — 22.14

2, 13 — 21.9

pBerlin 3038 — H. Grapow, Grundriss der Medizin der Alten Ägypter, V: Die medizinische Texte in hieroglyphischer Umschreibung autographiert (Berlin, 1958)

vo. 2, 4–5 — 18.15

pBerlin 9010 — Hieratische Papyrus aus dem Königlichen Museen zu Berlin III (Leipzig, 1911)

5 — 10.2

pCairo 58038 — M. Luiselli, Der Amun-Re Hymnus des P. Boulaq 17 (P. Kairo CG 58038) (KÄT 14; Wiesbaden, 2004)

10, 7 – 11, 1 — Essay 23

pCB IV — A. H. Gardiner, Hieratic Papyri in the British Museum, Third Series: Chester Beatty Gift, 2 vols. (London, 1935)

vo. 2, 5 – 3, 11 — Essay 18

Peas. — R. Parkinson, The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant (Oxford, 1991)

B1, 15 — Ex6–1b

B1, 20 — 4.15

B1, 21 — 4.13.2

B1, 25 — 7.15, 17.2

B1, 39–40 — 18.16

B1, 40 — 9.4

B1, 42 — 13.3.1, 14.3

B1, 46–47 — Ex16–12

B1, 47 — Ex5–1g

B1, 49 — 18.16

B1, 50 — 11.11.2

B1, 51–52 — Ex7–32

B1, 57 — Ex15–3

B1, 58 — 10.8

B1, 63–64 — 8.2.7

B1, 65–66 — 13.11.1

B1, 79–80 — Ex13–24

B1, 84 — 6.8

B1, 85–91 — Ex18–3

B1, 88 — 18.2

B1, 95 — 22.8

B1, 98 — 15.1

B1, 102 — Ex10–6

B1, 105–107 — Ex17–1

B1, 106 — 5.9

B1, 107 — 19.2

B1, 109–10 — Ex21–16

B1, 112 — Ex5–1h

B1, 112–13 — Ex9–2d

B1, 114 — 18.9

B1, 114–15 — Ex23–10, 25.12

B1, 115 — 23.5

B1, 116–17 — 23.10

B1, 117 — 23.5

B1, 123 — 15.4

B1, 123–24 — 14.3

B1, 124 — 10.2

B1, 129 — Ex14–6

B1, 147 — 16.2

B1, 148–49 — Ex7–33

B1, 155–56 — Ex16–13

B1, 160 — 19.18, Ex22–7

B1, 162 — 20.16

B1, 171 — Ex7–34

B1, 177 — Ex13–27

B1, 178 — 24.4

B1, 179–80 — Ex14–7

B1, 182 — 9.4

B1, 182–83 — Ex15–17

B1, 190 — Ex20–7

B1, 194–95 — Ex15–6

B1, 196 — 11.5

B1, 208 — 10.6

B1, 211 — 15.7.1, 25.11

B1, 214 — Ex19–15

B1, 219 — 19.9

B1, 220–21 — Ex11–10

B1, 225–26 — 17.5

B1, 227–28 — Ex22–20

B1, 229 — 16.3

B1, 230–31 — 15.6.8

B1, 245–46 — 20.16

B1, 246–48 — Ex23–11

B1, 247 — 23.5

B1, 261–62 — 18.6

B1, 262–63 — 8.2.10

B1, 263–65 — Ex13–28

B1, 271–72 — 22.16

B1, 272 — 15.1

B1, 278 — 15.1

B1, 298 — Ex7–35

B1, 298–99 — 25.6

B1, 314 — 8.4, Ex14–8

B1, 316 — 22.17.4

B1, 318 — Ex22–21

B1, 320 — Ex7–38

B1, 323 — Ex10–25

B1, 332–33 — 14.3

B1, 333 — Ex11–20

B1, 337 — Ex16–14

B1, 342–43 — 26.20

B1, 347 — Ex22–10

B1, 348–49 — 17.2

B1, 350 — Ex8–26, 23.5

B1, 351 — 15.1

B1, 351–52 — Ex7–39

B1, 353–54 — 18.16

B1, 356–57 — 17.11

B2, 5–6 — Ex18–23

B2, 27–28 — Ex19–10

B2, 39 — Ex7–36

B2, 48–49 — 7.10, 23.9

B2, 49 — Ex7–37

B2, 55 — Ex11–6

B2, 77 — 11.11.2

B2, 83–84 — Ex8–26

B2, 91 — Ex9–2b

B2, 92–93 — Ex7–40

B2, 93 — 23.5

B2, 100 — 11.4

B2, 108 — 23.7

B2, 109 — Ex11–11

B2, 110 — Ex11–14

B2, 110–11 — Ex11–18

B2, 113–14 — Ex14–9, 17.11

B2, 117 — Ex16–15

B2, 117–18 — 25.10

B2, 122 — 18.2

B2, 130 — 19.9

B2, 131–32 — 16.9, Ex22–4

B2, 133 — 15.3

Bt 25 — 10.7

Bt 25–27 — Ex20–18

Bt 29 — 17.2

Bt 30–31 — 6.7

Bt 34–35 — 17.9

R 1, 1 — 7.9, 22.24

R 1, 2 — Ex5–1d, Ex7–30, 18.2

R 1, 2–3 — 14.3

R 1, 3 — 8.2.7, Ex15–2

R 1, 4 — 5.10.3

R 1, 7 — 20.10

R 6, 4–5 — 20.8

R 6, 5 — 4.13.1

R 7, 2–3 — Ex5–1e

R 7, 3 — Ex15–22

R 7, 4 — 11.5

R 7, 5–6 — Ex9–2c

R 7, 6 — 8.2.15, 15.2.1

R 7, 6–7 — 15.3

R 7, 7 — 15.1

R 8, 5 — Ex18–2

R 8, 6 — Ex7–31

R 8, 7–8 — 11.11.2

R 9, 4 — Ex5–1f, p. 115 n. 1

R 9, 5–6 — Ex14–5, 15.7.8

R 10, 5 — 24.1, 24.2

R 10, 6 — Ex22–18

R 11, 1 — 23.11

R 11, 2–3 — Ex17–7

R 11, 4–5 — Ex14–10

R 12, 6–7 — 13.11.2

R 13, 5 — 15.6.14

R 13, 6 — 8.2.6, Ex22–19

R 14, 1 — 19.9

R 15, 1 — 18.2

R 16, 1–3 — Ex15–4

R 17, 6 — Ex13–26

R 17, 6–7 — 25.8.1

R 18, 1 — Ex5–1h

R 18, 6 — 23.5, 23.6

R 25, 4 — Ex15–5

R 26, 4–5 — 16.7

R 26, 5–6 — 18.8

Peet, Abydos II — T. E. Peet, The Cemeteries of Abydos, vol. II (EEF 34; London, 1914)

23 — Ex10–7

Petrie, Dendereh 1898 — W. M. F. Petrie, Dendereh 1898 (EEF 17; London, 1900)

Pl. 8C/25B — Ex22–13

Petrie, Koptos — W. M. F. Petrie, Koptos (London, 1898)

pl. 8, 2 — 6.7

pHarris 500 — W. Max Müller, Die Liebespoesie der Alten Ägypter, 2nd ed. (Leipzig, 1932)

7, 2–3 — Essay 23

Piankoff, Shrines — A. Piankoff, The Shrines of Tut-Ankh-Amon, ed. by N. Rambova (BS 2; New York, 1955)

Fig. 28 — Ex1–1a

PN — H. Ranke, Die ägyptischen Personennamen, 3 vols. (Glückstadt, 1935–77)

I, 160, 23 — 22.24

I, 171, 11 — 7.8

I, 172, 22 — 7.5, Ex7–28

I, 176, 14 — 7.8

I, 403, 7 — 22.24

Posener, Loyaliste — G. Posener, L’enseignement loyaliste, sagesse égyptienne du Moyen Empire (HEO 5; Geneva, 1976)

83 — 23.6

Posener, Princes — G. Posener, Princes et pays d’Asie et de Nubie (Brussels, 1940)

66 — Essay 17

70 — Essay 17

71 — Essay 17

pRam. IV — Grapow, Grundriss der Medizin der Alten Ägypter, V: Die medizinische Texte in hieroglyphischer Umschreibung autographiert (Berlin, 1958)

D 2, 2 — Ex6–1h

pRam VI, p Ram X — A. H. Gardiner, The Ramesseum Papyri (Oxford, 1955)

VI, 105–106 — 18.4

X, 1, 5 — 19.13

Psalm 23 — 20.4

Ptahhotep — Z. Žába, Les maximes de Ptaḥḥotep (Prague, 1956)

13 — 20.15

28–29 L2 — Ex21–6

37–39 — 18.11

52 — 15.4

53 — 13.17

54 — 15.1

58 — Essay 18, Ex24–3

75 — 11.6, 15.7.3

84–86 L2 — Ex18–25

86–87 L2 — 19.15

88–98 L2 — Essay 10

90 — 18.5

93 — 18.13

126 — 13.17

128 L2 — 10.2

135 — 8.2.8

164 — 13.17

184 — 23.9

187 — Ex24–4

204–205 — 18.15

207–213 L2 — Ex18–5

213 L2 — 11.5

277–78 — 1.9

282 — Ex24–5

298 — 8.2.7

298–99 — Ex18–7

310 — Ex24–6

315 — 18.14

315 L2 — 19.15

316 — Ex15–15

348 — 18.13

349 — 20.17

350 — Ex18–8

353 — Ex24–7

372 — Ex15–16

374 — Ex20–21

382–83 — 17.11

474 — 13.17

476 — 13.17

479 — 13.17

529 — 13.3.1

530 — 13.3.1

541 — 22.4

554 — Ex24–8

557 — 24.1, 24.2, Ex24–9

564–65 — 18.12

581 — 24.7

596 — 13.17

602 — 23.13

608 — 13.17

Pyr. — K. Sethe, Die altägyptischen Pyramidentexte, Vols. I–II, 2nd ed. (Hildesheim, 1960 and 1969); E. Chassinat et al., Fouilles de Qattah (MIFAO 14; Cairo, 1906)

87a — Essay 22

122b Q1Q — Ex8–12

1808a — 13.6

1845b — 22.19

Rhind — T. E. Peet, The Rhind Mathematical Papyrus, British Museum 10057 and 10058 (London, 1923)

Problem 34 — 9.6

Problem 41 — 15.1

Problem 45 — 7.8

Problem 60 — 7.9

Problem 62 — 22.10

Problem 65 — 9.4

Problem 73 — 7.13

Problem 76 — 9.4

Problem 82 — 9.7.4

Rifeh — F. Ll. Griffth, The Inscriptions of Siût and Dêr Rîfeh (London, 1889)

IV, 56–57 — 24.7

Sethe, Ächtung — K. Sethe, Die Ächtung feindlicher Fürsten, Völker und Dinge auf altägyptischen Tongefässescherben des Mittleren Reiches (APAW; Berlin, 1926)

f 9 — Essay 17

Sethe, Amun — K. Sethe, Amun und die acht Urgötter von Hermopolis: eine Untersuchung über Ursprung und Wesen des ägyptischen Götterkönigs (APAW; Berlin, 1929)

pl. 4 — Essay 11

Sethe, DT — K. Sethe, Dramatische Texte zu altaegyptischen Mysterienspielen (UGAÄ 10; Leipzig, 1928)

pl. 6, 72 — 22.16

pl. 13, 9 — 15.2.4

pl. 15, 52 — 15.1

Sethe, Lesestücke — K. Sethe, Ägyptische Lesestücke zum Gebrauch im akademischen Unterricht, 3rd ed. (Hildesheim, 1959)

63, 12 — Essay 23

63, 4 — 8.2.6, Essay 23

70, 18 — 22.17.4

70, 22–23 — Ex20–12, 25.7

70, 24–71, 1 — Ex23–9

71, 1 — 15.1, Ex22–27

71, 11 — Ex7–26

75, 7 — 19.2, 19.5

75, 11 — 13.3.1

75, 17–18 — 16.5

76, 7 — 18.2

76, 11 — 13.3.1

76, 13–14 — Ex23–8

76, 15–16 — Ex19–4

76, 19 — 22.14

76, 23 — Ex24–15

76, 24 — 19.2

79, 2 — 20.9.2

79, 6 — 24.1, 24.2

79, 18–19 — 2.6

79, 19–23 — Essay 21

79, 20–21 — 10.7, 11.9.1

79, 21 — 6.9

79, 21–22 — 6.5

80, 4–7 — 25.8.1

82, 12 — Essay 21

82–83 — 24.2

83–84 — Ex2–2

84, 8 — 7.9

84, 13 — 7.9

84, 15–16 — 23.13

84, 16 — 11.5

84, 18 — 26.18

87, 2 — 17.6

96, 23–97, 1 — 25.10

ShS. — A. M. Blackman, Middle Egyptian Stories (BA 2; Brussels, 1932)

2–3 — 17.7

3 — 19.2

3–4 — 19.5

4 — 16.3

7 — 16.3, Essay 17

7–8 — Ex10–23

8 — Ex5–1j

10–11 — Ex16–1

12–13 — Ex7–16

13–14 — 15.3

15–16 — Ex20–5

16–17 — Ex13–10

18–19 — Ex18–17

23–24 — 16.5

29 — 22.17.1

29–30 — Ex7–17

32–33 — 20.7

38 — 16.2

39–41 — 16.8

41–44 — 20.8

42 — Ex9–2n

45–46 — Ex22–28

51–52 — 22.8

52 — Ex10–22

57–59 — Ex16–2

58–59 — Ex7–18

59 — 13.3.1

59–60 — Ex14–1

61 — Ex7–19

61–62 — 21.7, 20.18

62 — 13.3.1

62–63 — Ex7–20

63–64 — Ex7–21

65 — 24.5

66 — Ex7–22

67–68 — Ex20–6

69 — 7.13

73 — 22.8

74–75 — 14.8

76–77 — 18.4

77–78 — Ex5–1k

81 — 17.9

83–86 — Ex23–14

89 — Ex7–2

97–98 — Ex19–7

98 — 19.13

100–101 — Ex11–1

101–102 — 16.8

103 — 26.18

108 — 10.4.1

109-10 — Ex16–3

111 — 19.9

111–12 — Ex15–18

116 — 16.3, 16.7

117–19 — 19.14

119–22 — 18.7

124 — Ex22–29

126 — 8.2.8, Ex18–16

128 — Ex5–1a

130 — 16.2, 16.3, 17.5

130–31 — 17.5

131 — Ex10–4

131–32 — 20.10

134 — Ex5–1c, 7.4, Ex7–23

139 — 18.7

139–40 — Ex21–5

146–47 — Ex21–7

147 — 24.4

148 — 22.13

149 — Ex1–2c

150 — 11.11.2

152 — Ex5–1i, Ex7–24

154 — Ex5–1m

155–56 — 17.9

156 — Ex22–5

157 — 20.10

158 — 16.3, 16.6

161 — 17.5

169 — 16.8

170 — Ex5–1n, 14.6

172 — Ex13–11

174 — Ex16–4

175 — 17.4

179 — 15.1

182 — Ex7–15, 8.2.6, 13.13

Sin. — R. Koch, Die Erzählung des Sinuhe (BA 17; Brussels, 1990)

AO 8–9 — Ex8–19

AO 25 — Ex8–20

AO 41 — Ex8–24

B 1–2 — 20.7

B 4 — 23.3

B 6–7 — Ex13–4, 18.13

B 11–13 — Ex25–12

B 15–16 — 13.14.2

B 16–17 — Ex24–1

B 20 — 25.8.3

B 21 — Ex16–5

B 23 — 7.6, 13.5.2

B 31 — Ex8–1

B 32–34 — Ex20–9

B 34–35 — Ex8–29, Ex17–5

B 35–36 — Ex18–13, Ex23–16

B 43 — 8.2.4, Ex8–17, 10.9

B 44 — 6.3

B 44–45 — 22.17.3

B 45 — Ex8–5, Ex16–6

B 50 — Ex10–1

B 52–53 — 20.11

B 57–58 — Ex8–6, Essay 18

B 58–59 — Ex20–13

B 62–63 — Ex23–17

B 66 — 18.5

B 66–67 — 23.8

B 70 — Ex21–12

B 71 — Ex14–19, 23.9, 23.11

B 71–72 — 18.14

B 72–73 — Ex25–13

B 73–74 — 21.8

B 74–75 — 18.15

B 75 — 23.13

B 75–76 — Ex16–7

B 77 — Ex10–13

B 81 — 7.9

B 82 — Ex8–14

B 87 — 19.2

B 92 — Ex6–1o

B 94–95 — 18.6

B 96 — Ex18–11

B 97 — 24.2

B 105–106 — Ex8–22

B 106 — 6.3

B 107–108 — 13.5.2

B 111 — Ex21–20

B 112 — 13.12

B 113 — Ex8–11

B 114 — 11.11.2, 18.13

B 117 — 13.3.1

B 117–18 — 10.4.3

B 123 — 18.16

B 131–33 — Ex16–8

B 133–34 — 18.16

B 137–38 — 25.9

B 140 — Ex14–17

B 141–42 — 17.4

B 143–44 — Ex17–10

B 144–45 — 22.17.4

B 145 — Ex22–2

B 154–55 — 11.9.2

B 155 — Ex6–1p, Ex7–6

B 160 — 15.2.2

B 164 — 22.17.2

B 165 — 25.6

B 167–68 — 18.2

B 168–69 — 17.4

B 173–74 — Ex22–1

B 182–83 — Ex8–10

B 183 — 22.22

B 187 — 21.10

B 188 — 22.17.2

B 190–91 — Ex13–8

B 193 — Ex8–4, 16.3

B 194 — Ex8–2

B 195 — 4.13.1

B 199–200 — Ex25–14

B 201 — 13.11.1

B 202 — 25.5, Ex25–15

B 205 — Ex8–13

B 213–14 — Ex8–25

B 215 — Ex10–14

B 215–16 — Ex13–9

B 217–18 — Ex10–15

B 222 — 11.9.2

B 223–23 — 15.7.3

B 226–28 — Ex18–12

B 229 — Ex14–18

B 230 — Ex11–2

B 232 — 15.6.7

B 233–34 — Ex20–14

B 236 — 13.14.3

B 239–40 — Ex10–16

B 240 — Ex10–17

B 244 — Ex8–23

B 248 — 13.3.1

B 249 — 8.2.1

B 252 — Ex8–21

B 254 — 24.1, 24.2

B 254–55 — Ex16–9

B 257 — 16.3

B 261 — Ex22–31

B 262 — 18.2

B 263 — Ex10–18

B 264–65 — Ex16–10

B 266–69 — 20.3

B 267 — Ex11–22

B 267–68 — 7.9, Ex8–15

B 275 — 15.3

B 276 — 24.2

B 278 — 23.7

B 282 — 15.1, 15.3

B 286 — 16.5

B 291 — 19.3

B 292–94 — Ex16–11

B 298 — Ex9–2h

B 300 — 19.2, 19.5

B 304 — Ex24–2

B 309 — Ex24–13

R 10–11 — 10.2

R 15 — 18.2

R 16 — Ex11–17

R 17 — 4.13.2

R 19–20 — Ex17–8

R 22–23 — 8.2.7

R 24 — 20.3

R 25 — 20.11

R 27–28 — Ex13–3

R 28 — 8.2.1, 19.13

R 34 — 20.17

R 38 — 11.4, 22.10

R 41–42 — Ex17–9

R 43 — 24.2

R 44–45 — Ex8–8

R 45 — Ex13–5

R 50 — 17.4, 23.12

R 53 — 8.2.7

R 55 — Ex8–18

R 63 — Ex8–3

R 70 — 16.10

R 70–71 — Ex11–3, Ex17–13, Ex20–11

R 74 — 23.11

R 76–79 — 23.8

R 79 — 23.5

R 93 — Ex21–18

R 142 — Ex13–6

R 156 — Ex13–7

Sinai — A. H. Gardiner and T. E. Peet, The Inscriptions of Sinai, ed. by J. Černý, 2 vols., 2nd ed. (EES 45; London, 1955)

90, 3 — 8.2.7, 23.13

90, 8 — 18.9

90, 8–10 — 19.11

Siut — F. Ll. Griffth, The Inscriptions of Siût and Dêr Rîfeh (London, 1889); Kêmi 3 (1930); E. Edel, Die Inschriften der Grabfronten der Siut-Gräber in Mittelägypten aus der Herakleopolitenzeit (ARWAW 71; Opladen, 1984)

I, 126 — 13.5.1

I, 225 — 23.13

I, 226 — 23.13

I, 227 — Ex10–12

I, 233 — 24.2

I, 269 — Ex5–1t, Ex6–1k

I, 270 — 18.2

I, 272 — 22.14

I, 273 — 8.2.10

I, 282 — 23.13

I, 284 — Ex11–16

I, 285 — 9.6

I, 288 — Ex7–5, 9.4, Ex21–4

I, 289 — 4.12

I, 290 — 13.6, 22.3

I, 293 — 17.4

I, 295 — Ex5–1s, 11.6

I, 296 — 23.13, 24.6

I, 298 — 21.9, 26.18

I, 300 — Ex9–2j

I, 301 — 11.6, 15.7.3

I, 302 — 24.2

I, 305 — 9.8

I, 307 — 13.4.1

I, 310 — 23.5

I, 339 — 24.2

II, 6 — 6.8

III, 4 — Essay 13

III, 20 — 9.4

III, 43 — 15.1

III, 43: Kêmi 3, 95 — Ex15–20

III, 69 — Ex10–11

IV, 23 — Ex1–2e

IV, 25 — 9.4

Smith — J. H. Breasted, The Edwin Smith Surgical Papyrus, 2 vols. (OIP 3–4; Chicago, 1930)

2, 3 — 19.11

2, 8–9 — 13.13

2, 21–22 — 26.19

4, 2–3 — 13.18, Ex21–14

4, 14 — 16.3

7, 16 — 8.2.6

8, 16 — 24.3

8, 16–17 — Ex21–13

8, 19 — 19.9

14, 13–14 — 21.13

15, 15 — 11.6, 15.7.3

16, 15 — 11.4

21, 11–12 — 19.9

21, 17 — 26.19

22,2 — 19.9

Spiegelberg, Denksteine — W. Spiegelberg Ägyptische Grabsteine und Denksteine aus süd-deutschen Sammlungen, 3 vols. (Strassburg, 1902–1906)

II, 3, 23 — 19.2

Stewart, Egyptian Stelae — H. M Stewart, Egyptian Stelae, Reliefs and Paintings from the Petrie Collection, II: Archaic Period to Second Intermediate Period (Warminster, 1979)

pl. 18, 16 — 7.10

TPPI — J. J. Clère and J. Vandier, Textes de la Première Période Intermédiaire et de la XIème dynastie (BA 10; Brussels, 1948)

§ 17, 5 — Ex1–1d

§ 20, 4 — Ex1–1b, 17.2

§ 20, 5 — 24.4, Ex24–16

§ 20, 6 — 20.10

§ 20, 11 — 16.3

TTS II — N. de G. Davies and A. H. Gardiner, The Tomb of Antefoḳer, Vizier of Sesostris I, and his Wife, Senet (No. 60) (TTS 2; London, 1920)

pl. 7 — 15.3

pl. 11 — Ex10–5

pl. 22 — 15.3

TTS III — N. de G. Davies, The Tombs of Two Officials of Tuthmosis the Fourth (Nos. 75 and 90) (TTS 3; London, 1923)

pl. 26, 15 — 10.3

Turin — A. Fabretti et al., Regio Museo di Torino: antichità egizie, 2 vols. (Turin, 1882–88)

1345, 10 — 21.9

Urk. I — K. Sethe, Urkunden des Alten Reichs, 2nd ed. (Urkunden des ägyptischen Altertums I; Leipzig, 1933)

128, 14 – 130, 15 — Essay 25

197, 6 — 24.4

Urk. IV — K. Sethe and W. Helck, Urkunden der 18. Dynastie, 22 vols. (Urkunden des Ägyptischen Altertums IV; Leipzig and Berlin, 1906–84)

2, 10 — Ex10–8

2, 11 — 7.12

2, 15 — 19.13

3, 5 — 14.6

4, 3 — 14.6

4, 10–13 — Ex14–11

5, 12–13 — 20.8

6, 2 — 13.5.1

6, 9 — Ex6–1m

7, 3/7 — Ex15–26

7, 6 — 24.2

9, 3 — 13.4.1

17, 8 — 17.2

17, 10–11 — 14.7

20, 11 — 15.2.3

20, 9–16 — Ex15–33

55, 9 — 6.7

59, 5 — Ex10–9

59, 13–14 — 16.5

59, 16 — 4.13.1

78, 8 — 24.6

83, 1–9 — 20.4

84, 7 — 16.3

85, 14 — 23.5

96, 6 — 7.8

92, 9–11 — 24.6

101, 12 — 10.9

123, 4 — 8.5

123, 7 — Ex11–7

123, 10 — 10.7, 11.9.2

131, 12 — 8.2.1

147, 2–3 — 13.15

157, 7 — 26.18

158, 17 — 19.9

161, 2 — Essay 6

185, 8 — 4.13.2

202, 8 — p. 359 n. 6

219, 3–4 — Ex20–4

221, 13 — 10.2

223, 10 — 17.2

246, 14 — 19.9

255, 12 — 15.2.2

261, 6 — 8.2.8

271, 9 — 13.6

303, 16–17 — 17.7

330, 4 — 6.7

348, 9 — 25.12

364, 1–2 — Ex21–3

367, 8 — 13.6

410, 11 — Ex7–12

429, 12 — 9.7.4

483, 6 — Ex9–2m

484, 9–10 — 19.7

489, 2 — 18.5

506, 3 — 23.4

559, 11 — 18.2

561, 2 — 10.7, Ex10–24

566, 10 — 17.2

566, 12 — 26.19

605, 16 — 19.2

611, 15–17 — Ex16–25

616, 9 — 8.2.5

618, 11 — 22.18

618, 15 — Ex6–1j

618, 16 — 13.12

630, 16a — 9.1

649, 3 — 9.8

649, 12 — Ex8–30

649, 15 — 10.10

650, 5 — 8.10

650, 9 — 9.4

652, 9 — 19.2

656, 2–3 — 21.4

656, 14 — 14.5

664, 17 — 24.3

666, 17 — 8.10

689, 5 — 9.4

689–90 — Essay 21

693, 13 — 13.18

702, 9–14 — Ex9–1

716, 13 — Ex9–2k

729, 16 — 9.5

741, 4 — 9.4

745, 12 — 13.11.1, 13.11.4

758, 6–7 — 23.12

758, 16 — 16.2

772, 6 — 15.6.9

795, 9–10 — 20.15

815, 1–2 — 23.10

834, 1 — 13.12

835, 7 — 26.18

835, 14 — 15.7.7

836, 2 — 9.8, 9.9

836, 2–3 — Ex9–2g

862, 5 — Ex6–1f

890, 11–12 — 20.4

893, 5 — 13.12

894, 1 — 20.8

897, 7 — 19.2

916, 3 — 26.18

965, 4 — 8.2.10

970, 1 — 8.2.7

1021, 5 — Ex8–7

1023, 16 — 15.1

1068, 10 — 8.10

1069, 5 — 9.4

1071, 8 — Ex11–15

1074, 5 — 22.23

1074, 14–15 — 18.11

1075, 10 — 19.18

1077, 9 — 18.2

1090, 3 — 10.3

1090, 3–4 — 18.11

1091, 3 — Ex24–20

1094, 17 — 23.5

1106, 3 — 8.7

1165, 16 — 18.2

1195, 8 — 22.13

1198, 16 — 26.18

1280, 13 — 21.7

1297, 13/14 — 19.2

1326, 13 — 21.7

1545, 8 — 22.21

1741, 12 — Ex7–7

1741, 12, G — 7.7

2026, 13 — 23.9

2026, 14 — 22.17.3

2027, 2 — 8.2.3

2027, 11 — 18.9

2028, 13 — 24.4, 24.6

2031, 4 — 22.24

2031, 15 — 14.5

Urk. VII — K. Sethe, Historisch-biographische Urkunden des Mittleren Reiches, ed. by W. Erichsen (Urkunden des ägyptischen Altertums VII; Leipzig, 1935)

2, 9 — Ex1–2a

2, 11 — 16.3

14, 20 — Ex13–1

39, 6 — 6.8

Vienna — I. Hein and H. Satzinger, Stelen des Mittleren Reiches I (CAA; Mainz/Rhein, 1989)

168, 8–12 — 22.25

Westc. — A. M. Blackman, The Story of King Kheops and the Magicians, Transcribed from Papyrus Westcar (Berlin Papyrus 3033), ed. by W. V. Davies (Reading, 1988)

1, 21 — 23.7

2, 3–4 — 18.9

2, 9 — Ex13–12

2, 11 — 19.9

3, 6–8 — 25.3

3, 7–8 — Ex13–13

3, 8 — 13.3.1

3, 11–12 — 8.2.4

3, 15 — Essay 3

4, 1 — 16.10

4, 6–7 — Ex13–14

4, 13 — 9.4, 21.8

5, 1 — Ex6–1c

5, 3 — Ex6–1d

5,4 — 13.20

5, 7 — Ex15–25

5, 10 — 6.5

5, 16–17 — Ex16–16

5, 17 — 20.15

5, 17–18 — 19.10

5, 19 — 17.12

6, 4–5 — Ex25–16

6, 5–6 — 21.12

6, 9–10 — Ex20–10, 23.15

6, 10-11 — Ex10–19, 15.7.2

6, 21 — 17.2

6, 23–24 — Ex17–11

6, 24 — 8.14

6, 25 — 7.13

6, 26–7, 1 — Ex18–15, 22.10

7, 1–2 — Ex10–20, 22.10

7, 4 — Ex13–15

7, 4–5 — Ex21–8

7, 14 — 13.14.3

7, 15–16 — Ex13–16, 20.7

7, 20–21 — Ex13–17, Ex25–17

7, 23 — Ex9–2l

7, 24 — 18.2

8, 1 — 17.4

8, 2 — Ex13–18

8, 3 — 9.4, Essay 17

8, 4 — 13.3.1

8, 5 — 22.6

8, 8 — 17.7

8, 9 — 15.3

8, 11 — 24.2, Ex24–14

8, 12 — 16.8, 25.3

8, 12–13 — 21.7

8, 14 — 20.9.2

8, 17–20 — Ex19–1

8, 21 — 16.8

8, 24 — 13.3.1

8, 25 — 19.2

9, 3–4 — 22.7

9, 4 — 10.10

9, 6 — 23.10

9, 6–7 — 23.10

9, 8–9 — 7.13

9, 9 — 4.13.1, 7.9

9, 9–10 — Ex22–11

9, 10 — 17.2

9, 11 — 6.7

9, 17 — 18.2

10, 4 — 21.11, 22.3

10, 5 — 13.3.2, Ex16–17

10, 11 — 19.9

10, 11–12 — 20.14

11, 4 — 17.2

11, 5–6 — 19.5

11, 9–10 — Ex22–30

11, 10–11 — Ex1–2d

11, 13 — 19.9

11, 14 — 4.12, 8.2.10

11, 16 — 19.13

11, 19–20 — Ex16–18

11, 21–22 — Ex25–18

11, 23 — Ex15–23

11, 24 — 10.3

12, 1 — 13.3.2, Ex13–19

12, 3 — 17.11, 24.6

12, 6–7 — Ex13–20

12, 7–8 — 16.9

12, 8 — Ex6–1i

12, 14–15 — Ex25–19

12, 17–18 — Ex13–21

12, 19–20 — Ex13–22

12, 25–26 — Ex16–19, 17.9

13, 10–11 — 15.6.13

ZÄS — Zeischrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde

39 (1901), pls. 1–2 — Essay 14

42 (1905), 33–34 — Essay 4

59 (1924), 47* — Ex9–2f

69 (1933), 29, 11 — 8.2.1

ANSWERS TO THE EXERCISES

EXERCISE 1

EXERCISE 2

1. pd, jnr, fdt, wj, bjk, psg, fdt, mzḥ, nds, rnpw, hrw, ḥft, ḫt, hzt, zḥ, spd, šft, q, ktt, gḥs, tr, tz, dpt, dd

2.a)EE-nek NESS-oot (or NESS-wet) JED-oo EE-rer-oo

b)eer ger em khet peh, se-SEKH-em eeb poo en KHER-oo-ee

c)KEN-et poo ahd, KHYEZ-et poo HEM-khet

d)nee REM-ech ees net SHEF-et set, HOO-roo (or hoo-WARE-oo) poo SEJ-oo EE-boo

e)se-ROOD tahsh en WET-et soo

f)er tem RED-ee zen soo NEH-see neb em khed em HER-et

3.(a)Iemhetep (more commonly, Imhotep), (b) Mentjuweser, (c) Nimaatra, (d) Khaemwaset, (e) Qenemkhepesh, (f) Djehutiemhat

4.(a)wsr-ḥt, (b) mrt-mwt, (c) jmn-m-ḥt, (d) jmn-ḥtp, (e) sndm-jb, (f) tntj

EXERCISE 3

1. jmn

2. ḥzt

3. dp

4. št

5. qd

6. šm

7. sw

8. hr

9. ḫ

10. ḥr

11. ḥrt

12. snm

13. nbt

14. snw

15. mjtt

16. wr

17. wnn

18. q

19.

20. jw

21. b

22. mr

23. sḥ

24. jnt

25. mry

26. mwj

27. msst

28. mtr

29. hnw

30. nḫt

31. sk

32. jst or s

33. šnw

34. šd

35. rdj

36. rdw

37. msdr

38. dd

39. tjsw

40. sk

41. šsr

42. ḥz

43. sḥd

44. sḫ

45. nḥm

46. sndw

47. rwt

48. prt

49. mw

50. pd

51. jrt

52. jb

53. dt

54. ḥy

55. jwr

56. ḥns

57. z

58. zt

59. ḥfw

60. jz

61. ns

62. mḥ

63. jnm

64. hrt

65. dj or dj

66. sw

67. pdt

68. jrw

69. ḥtm

70. km

71. šw

72. z

73. ḫws

74. nḥḥ

75. wd

76. ḫb

77. pḥtj

78. jrrt (see § 3.2)

EXERCISE 4

1.a)zw, zwj

b)ḥjmwt, ḥjmtj

c)jtjw, jtjwj

d)mjwwt, mjwtj

e)mjww, mjwwj

f)zhww, zhwwj

g)mnjww, mnjwwj

h)nbwt, nbtj

i)šmywt, šmytj

j)jswt, jstj

k)prw, prwj

l)njwwt, njwtj

m)ḥwwt-ntr, ḥwtj-ntr

n)zw-nswt, zwj-nswt

o)sḫtjw, sḫtjwj

p)drwt, drtj

2.a)rdwj “two feet”

b)hwt “bellies”

c)msdrwj “two ears”

d)msw “children”

e)ḫwt “things”

f)jrtj “two uraei”

g)sprww “petitioners”

h)wj “two arms”

i)zwt “daughters”

j)msyt “waterfowl” (“false” plural!)

3.a)nbt pt “mistress of the sky”

b)ḥwwt-ntr “temples” (“god’s enclosures”)

c)jst nt nḫw “place of the living”

d)rmw ḥn pdw “fish and birds”

e)pt t “sky and land,” “sky or land”

f)rmw nw jtrw “fish of the river”

g)sbw pt “stars of the sky”

h)z-nswt “king’s son”

i)nswt ntrw “king of the gods”

j)ntrw ntrwt “gods and goddesses”

k)nb twj “lord of the Two Lands”

l)r n kmt “speech of Egypt” (Egyptian)

m)t mw “bread and/or water”

n)tw nḫ “breath of life”

4.a) ḥr [n] jnr

b) ḥwt-ntr [nt] jmn

c) snw [ḥn] snwt

d) sn[tj] jsjr

e) wrw [nw] kmt

f) ḫt [n] nḫ (ḫt is masculine!)

EXERCISE 5

1.a)msw.j ḥn snw.j “my offspring and my siblings”

b)ḥwt.sn “their fields”

c)ḥjmt.k pr.k “your wife and your house”

d)ḥjmt.f tn “that wife of his” or “this his wife”

e)ḥnw n sḫtj pn “the property of that peasant”

f)n n “those donkeys” or “these donkeys” (literally, “this of donkey”)

g)nb n spt tn “lord of this estate”

h)ḥjmt sḫtj pn ḥn hrdw.f “the wife of that peasant and his children”

i)ḥknw pf “that oil”

j)nhw n mš.n “the loss of our expeditionary force”

k)jst.f nt sndm “his place of residence”

l)nn n smrw “these courtiers” or “those courtiers”

m)dpt tf “that boat”

n)hw dpt tn “that boat’s vicinity”

o)pr.tn pn “this house of yours (2pl)” or “that house of yours”

p)ḥr.tn “your (2pl) face” (not ḥr tn “this face” because ḥr is masculine!)

q)mjwt.t tn “this your (2fs) mother”

r)ny.j n qnyt “my braves”

s)t qnbt nt ḥwt-ntr “that council of the temple” or “the council of the temple”

t)nn n ḫwt “these things” or “those things”

2. d) nn n ḥjmwt.f “these his wives” or “those wives of his”

m) nf n dpwt “those boats”

o) nn n prw.tn “these houses of yours” or “those houses of yours”

q) nn n mjwwt.tn “these your mothers”

3. f) “this donkey” or “that donkey”

l) smr pn “this courtier” or “that courtier”

t) ḫt tn “this thing” or “that thing”

4. b) ny.sn n ḥwt “their fields”

c) ty.k ḥjmt py.k pr “your wife and your house”

EXERCISE 6

1.a)sḫr nb n nb twj “every plan of the lord of the Two Lands”

b)jnw nb nfr n sḫt-ḥmt “every good product of the Wadi Natrun”

c)t nbt nt pr-nswt “every room of the king’s house” (honorific transposition!)

d)nfrwt nbt nt hnw ḥ.k “all the beautiful women of the interior of your palace”

e)ḫt jbtt nt pt “the eastern Akhet of the sky”

f)pr.k pn nfr “this your beautiful house”

g)nswt pḥtj “a king of great strength” (literally, “a king, one great of strength”)

h)ky.s mnd “her other breast” (for mnd > mnd, see § 2.8.4)

i)nfr r ḫwt nbt “better than all things”

j)wr mnw r nswt nb “one who has more monuments than any king” (literally, “greater of monuments than any king”)

k)nn n ḫwt r dr “all these things” (literally, “these things to the limit”)

l)tnw zp “each time”

m)t hnyt r w.s “this entire crew” (literally, “this crew to its length”)

n)kt phrt ḫt “another effective prescription”

o)rnpwt št “many years” (see § 6.2)

p)š mrwt “one who has many dependants” (see § 6.5)

2.a)nfr-k-r “perfect/young/good one of the Sun’s life force” (i.e., perfect example of the sun’s life-giving power)

b)mt-k-r “true one of the Sun’s life force”

c)mn-ḫpr-r “permanent one of the Sun’s evolution” (i.e., the king as the permanent development of the sun)

d)mn-pḥtj-r “permanent one of the Sun’s strength”

EXERCISE 7

1. wrwj nb “How great is the lord.”

2. jnk pw “It is I.”

3. pw mnḫ “He is an effective son.”

4. ptr sw “Who is he?”

5. ḫt.j pw “It is my property.”

6. nfr pr.j, wsḫ jst.j “My house is good, my place is broad” (two sentences!).

7. rn n mjwt.s “The name of her mother is Tjuia.”

8. jnk z.f “I am his son” (either jnk or z.f can be the predicate).

9. jnk pḥtj “I am a king of great strength” (either jnk or nswt pḥtj can be the predicate, but the latter is more likely; pḥtj is a nfr ḥr construction: § 6.5).

10. ḥn pw “It is an attack.”

11. wrwj n r sḫrw ntrw “How (much) greater is this than the plans of the gods.”

12. jnk wr wrw “I am the greatest of the great” (either jnk or wr wrw can be the predicate, but the latter is more likely; for wr wrw, see § 6.8).

13. qsnt pw “It is a difficult one” (see § 7.15).

14. dmj pw jmnt “The West is a harbor” (either dmj or jmnt can be the predicate, but the sentence is more likely to say what the West is than what a harbor is).

15. nfr sdm n r(m)t “Listening is good for people.”

16. jnk “I am (one) free of excess” (either jnk or šw ḥw can be the predicate, but the sentence probably says something about jnk, which is therefore the subject).

17. jb.sn r mw “Their mind is fiercer than lions.”

18. pw n wd-wr “It is a wave of the sea.”

19. pw “It was a snake.”

20. n(j)-sw mḥ 30 “He belonged to thirty cubits” — i.e., “He was thirty cubits long.”

21. ḫbzwt.f wr s(j) r mḥ 2 “His beard, it was greater than two cubits.”

22. sw “He was bent.”

23. nfr st r ḫwt nbt “It is better than all things” (§ 7.4.2).

24. bw pw wr n jw pn “It is the chief product of this island.”

25. ntf z wsjr “He is the son of Osiris” (§ 7.12).

26. jnk “I am (one) clean of hand(s)” (see no. 16, above).

27. pr.f pr jt(j).f “His house is his father’s house” (§ 7.12.3).

28. nnk sw “He belongs to me” or “He is mine” (§ 7.8).

29. n(j)-s(j) dt.k “She belongs to (you) yourself.”

30. mrt rn.s “Her name was Meret.”

31. nfr mjtn.j “My way is good.”

32. jnk pw mdw “I am the speaker” (§ 7.12).

33. nḫwj mjr “How pitiful is the needy one.”

34. ntk r nb pt “You are the Sun, lord of the sky” (either ntk or r nb pt can be the predicate, depending on the context).

35. ntk ḥmw n t r dr.f “You are the rudder of the entire land” (a metaphorical statement; either ntk or ḥmw n t r dr.f can be the predicate, depending on the context; for r dr.f, see § 6.7).

36. ptr drw.k “What is your requirement?” — i.e., “What do you want?”

37. nbw bw-nfr pw “They are masters of goodness.”

38. ḥmwt(j)w pw “They are craftsmen.”

39. wr s(j), s(j), s(j) “It is great, it is important, it is lasting” (three sentences!).

40. mḫt pw nt r(m)t ns.sn “The scale of people is their tongues” — i.e., people are measured by their speech (either mḫt nt rmt or ns.sn can be the predicate, but the sentence clearly identifies what “the measure of peoples’ worth” is and not what “their tongues” are).

41. n(j) wj wndwt.k “I belong to your tenants” — i.e., “I am one of your tenants.”

42. grḥ pw “It is the end.”

EXERCISE 8

1. nfr tw ḥn.j “You are good with me.”

2. šmw hr ḥt.k “chanters in front of you” (literally, “under your front”)

3. ḥr wt nt wrt “on the path of flight”

4. pt ḥr.k “the sky above you”

5. mj sḫmt rnpt jdw “like Sekhmet in a year of plague” (see § 8.14 end)

6. ḥ jb pw m t ss “He is steady-minded in the moment of backing.”

7. m ḫt jw n.k jmy “after your own old age” (literally, “in the wake of the old age of yours”)

8. wršy dp(j) jnb jmj hrw.f “the watchman on the wall on his shift” (literally, “who is on the wall and who is in his day”)

9. phrt jrj “the remedy for it”

10. hr zḥ n jb.k “under the counsel of your mind”

11. hr zḥ n wḥyt.f “with (literally, “under”) the counsel of his tribe”

12. nfr n.f m hrw pn r sf “It is better for him today than yesterday.”

13. m ḥtp nfr wrt “in very good peace”

14. wr n.f jrp r mw “He has more wine than water” (literally, “Wine is great to him with respect to water”).

15. ntf pw m mt “It is he, in truth” (i.e., “It is really he”).

16. r bw hr(j) ntr “to the place where the god is” (§ 8.8)

17. mj sḫr ntr “like a god’s plan”

18. ḥq pw n rtnw ḥrt “He is the ruler of Upper Retenu.”

19. m qdnw r rtnw “from Qatna to Retenu”

20. ḥrw ḥrj dp ḫswt “Horus, chief (literally, “who is over the head”; the “divine” determinative shows that ḥrj dp was though of as a single word) of foreign lands”

21. ḥr jst wrt m wmwt nt dm “on the great seat in a thickness of electrum”

22. m ḫpš.j m pdt.j m sḫrw.j jqrw “by my strong arm, by my bow, by my accomplished plans”

23. (j)m(j) r sḫtjw mnḫ n pr-nswt “an efficient overseer of field-workers of the king’s house” (note that mnḫ is singular and therefore does not modify sḫtjw)

24. ḥm nb ḥrj jrjw.f “every servant who is at (literally, “under”) his tasks” (literally, “those which pertain to him”)

25. nḥ pw n bk jm n nb.f “It is the prayer of your humble servant for his lord.”

26. m r n r ds.f “from (or “in”) the mouth of the Sun himself”

27. jb.j ds.j “my own mind”

28. n.f ds.f “for him himself”

29. pḥ.n.k nn ḥr mj “Why have you reached here?” (literally, “you have reached here on account of what?”)

30. [] m mjktj “here in Megiddo”

31. fn sw rsj ḥr prt r ḫst “He is totally miserable from going out to the desert.”

32. jnk w jm.tn “I am one of you.”

EXERCISE 9

1.bkw n kš hzt m rnpt tn | Tribute of wretched Kush in this year:
nbw dbn 155 qdt 2 | Gold, 155 deben and 2 qite (= 31.14 lb)
ḥmw ḥmwt 134 | Male and female servants, 134
jww wndw 114 | Oxen and short-horned cattle, 114
kw jdr 305 | Herd bulls, 305
dmd jḥw 419 | Total cattle, 419

2.a)rnpt-ḥsb 3 4 ḫt 25 ḫr ḥm n nswt-bjt SḪM-K-R “Regnal Year 3, 4 Inundation 25, during the incarnation of the Dual King SEKHEMKARE”

b)9nw zp “a ninth time”

c)wt.f wt hr mw kt hr jtj “its one path under water, the other under grain”

d)w m n n sḫtj “one of those peasants”

e)ky nḥs(j) 6 “another six Nubians”

f)mḥ 1 šzp 3 m mw “1 cubit 3 palms in water” (= 2.46 feet of water)

g)m rnpt-ḥsb 24 2 prt rqy hrw-ḥb mḥ 10 n jmn m jpt-jswt “in Year 24, 2 Growing, last day, the tenth festival-day of Amun in Karnak”

h)zp 3 zp 4 n hrw “three or four times a day” (literally, “three times, four times for a day”)

i)m mš n zj 3000 “in an expeditionary force of 3,000 men”

j)jr hrw ḥwt-ntr r-360 pw n rnpt “As for a day of the temple, it is ¹/360th of the year.”

k)m wdyt mḥt 13 nt nḫt “in the thirteenth campaign of force”

l)m ḥtp zp 2 “in peace, in peace”

m)ḥm-ntr dp(j) n jmn “first priest of Amun” (title of the High Priest of Amun)

n)jb.j m snnw.j “my mind as my second (i.e., my companion)”

3.a) dpt “first”

b) mḥ 437 “437th”

c) 8nw “eighth”

d) 2nw “second”

e) mḥ 10 “tenth”

f) mḥ 60 “60th”

g) 6nw “sixth”

h) mḥ 3009 “3,009th”

4. The two tables below show the transliteration of the account first and its translation second. In both, the right-to-left order of the example has been flipped to normal English left-to-right orientation.

jdr-mnjw | wpt nn 〈n〉g()w | ḥr(j)-db | drt | dmd | ḥtr
2212 ¹/3 ¹/4 |  |  |  |  |
156 ¹/3 ¹/15 | 41 ¹/4 ¹/45 | 41 ¹/4 ¹/45 | 41 ¹/4 ¹/45 | 123 ¹/3 ¹/10 ¹/20 | 32 ¹/2 ¹/12
36 | 9 ¹/2 | 9 ¹/2 | 9 ¹/2 | 28 ¹/2 | 7 ¹/2
20 ²/3 | 5 ¹/3 ¹/12 | 5 ¹/3 ¹/12 | 5 ¹/2 ¹/36 | 16 ¹/4 ¹/9 | 5 ¹/3 ¹/18
360 |  |  |  |  |
2785 ¹/2 | 56 ¹/6 ¹/45 | 56 ¹/6 ¹/45 | 56 ¹/5 ¹/10 | 168 ²/3 ¹/90 | 45 ¹/3 ¹/12 ¹/18
tended herd | the splitting of these steer | hornless cattle | calf | total | team ox
2212 ⁷/12 |  |  |  |  |
156 ⁶/15 | 41 ⁴⁹/180 | 41 ⁴⁹/180 | 41 ⁴⁹/180 | 123 ⁴⁹/60 | 32 ⁷/12
36 | 9 ¹/2 | 9 ¹/2 | 9 ¹/2 | 28 ¹/2 | 7 ¹/2
20 ²/3 | 5 ⁵/12 | 5 ⁵/12 | 5 ¹⁹/36 | 16 ¹³/36 | 5 ⁷/18
360 |  |  |  |  |
2785 ¹/2 | 56 ¹⁷/90 | 56 ¹⁷/90 | 56 ³/10 | 168 ⁶¹/90 | 45 ¹⁷/36

The last row in each column is the sum of the column. Cols. 2–4 break the amount in col. 1 into three categories (“the splitting of these”). Col. 5 totals the amounts in cols. 2–4. Col. 6 is the difference between cols. 1 and 5. The fractions seem to be divisions of 360: this suggests that the amounts have to do with the 12-month apportionment of something related to a large herd of cattle (compare the sentence in 2j of this exercise).

EXERCISE 10

1. jw jt(j).f m hnw ḥ.f “His father is inside his palace.”

2. nn rn.f mm nḫw “His name will not be among the living.”

3. jw ms jtrw m snf “Indeed, the river is blood.”

4. nn wj m ḥr(j) jb.sn “I was not in their midst.”

5. m.t sw r wnmw “Look (fem.), it is for food.”

6. m.k wj m nhw “Look, I am in loss.”

7. jw n.k tw ndm n mḥyt “You have the sweet air of the north wind.”

8. jw jt(j).j m ww “My father was a soldier.”

9. jw.j m ḥzwt ḥm.f “I am in His Incarnation’s blessing.”

10. nn sw m jst.f “It is not in its place.”

11. nn sḫ.f ḫr dp(j)w-t “His memory will not be with those who are on earth.”

12. jw.f r jw n nwt.f “He is to be an old man of his town.”

13. m.k tw “You are here” (§ 8.12).

14. jw mj ḫt “It is like something big” (subject unexpressed: § 10.9).

15. jw ḥm.k m ḥrw “Your Incarnation is Horus.”

16. z.j smsw.j m s wḥyt.j “My eldest son (§ 4.11) is in charge of my tribe.”

17. ḫwt.j nbt m .f “He has all my things” (“All my things are in his hand”: § 10.7).

18. m.k wj m bḥ.k “Look, Behold, I am in your presence.”

19. jr p mw jw.f m mḥ 12 “As for that water, it was twelve cubits (deep).”

20. jw.f m nds n rnpt 110 “He is a gentleman of 110 years (in age).”

21. tn(j) sw “Where is he?”

22. nn st m hnw.f “It is not inside it.”

23. nn nhw n mš.n “Our expedition has no losses” (literally, “A loss is not for our expedition”).

24. jw n.k nḫ “Life is yours.”

25. nn n.k st “It is not for you.”

26. jw.f n ny.j n hrdww “It is for my children.”

EXERCISE 11

1. nn wḫ m ḥr jb.sn “There was no fool in their midst.”

2. nj jnk js q s “I am not an arrogant person” (literally, “I am not one high of back”).

3. ntr pw grt nn 2nw.f “Moreover, he is a god without equal” (or “who has no equal”: literally, “his second not”).

4. nj rnpt js n nt bg “This is not the year for (literally, “of”) being lazy” (a negated A pw B nominal sentence; n is a demonstrative pronoun: § 5.8).

5. nn ḥr hr rmyt “No face was in (literally, “under”) tears.”

6. nn ḫ n.k “It is not useful for you” (subject omitted).

7. nn jww n ntr r.j “There are no complaints of a god against me.”

8. nn sj mj nf n wt “It is not like those lumps.”

9. jn jw ntt ḥmt jn jw ntt špst “Are you a servant, (or) are you a noblewoman?”

10. m.k tw m njwt nn ḥq-ḥwt.s “Look, you are a town without its mayor” (metaphor; literally, “you are in a town, its mayor not”).

11. nn sf n wzfw “There is no yesterday for the negligent” or “The negligent has no yesterday.”

12. nn ḫwt nbt dwt jm.s “There are not any bad things in it.”

13. nn swt qn grḥ “But there is no brave man at night” (i.e., no one is brave at night; qn is used as a noun, hence its determinative).

14. nn ḫnms n zh mt “There is no friend for the one who deaf to Maat” or “The one deaf to Maat has no friend.”

15. nn sbḫt n ntr r.f “There is no barrier of a god against him.”

16. m ḫwt.f nw pr (j)t(j).f nj js m ḫwt pr ḥt(j)- “from his things of his father’s house, not from the high official’s things.”

17. mnmnt nbt nn drw.s “every kind of herd without limit” (.s “its” is necessary in Egyptian but not in English: see § 6.7).

18. nn hrw nfr n wn-jb “There is no good time for the greedy.”

19. nn ḥn nj js ḥr zp.f “There is no haste except at (literally, “on”) its proper time” (i.e., there is no use hurrying until the proper time).

20. jn jw.k m wy “Are you a robber?”

21. jn jw.s m tjmḥjw “Is it Libyans?”

22. (j)n ntf pw m mt “Is it really he?” (literally, “Is it he in truth?” — not a negative sentence: see § 11.11.2).

EXERCISE 12

1. | ḫ | 2-lit.
2. | jp | 2-lit.
3. | jnj | 3ae-inf.
4. | jrj | 3ae-inf.
5. | nḫ | 3-lit.
6. | ḥ | 3-lit.
7. | ḥ | 3-lit.
8. | wḥ | 3-lit.
9. | wnn | 2ae-gem.
10. | wḥm | 3-lit.
11. | wdfj | 4ae-inf.
12. | wd | 2-lit.
13. | prj | 3ae-inf.
14. | pḥrr | 3ae-gem.
15. | psdj | 4ae-inf.
16. | ptpt | 4-lit.
17. | fj | 3ae-inf.
18. | m | 2ae-gem.
19. | mwt | 3-lit.
20. | mdwj | 4ae-inf.
21. | njtjt | 5-lit.
22. | nḥm | 3-lit.
23. | rwj | 3ae-inf.
24. | hj | 3ae-inf.
25. | hb | 3-lit.
26. | ḥwj | 3ae-inf.
27. | ḥmsj | 4ae-inf.
28. | ḥtp | 3-lit.
29. | ḫj | 3ae-inf.
30. | ḫpr | 3-lit.
31. | ḫr | 2-lit.
32. | ḫdj | 3ae-inf.
33. | sḫ | caus. 2-lit.
34. | sḥ | caus. 3-lit.
35. | sq | caus. 2-lit.
36. | spdd | 4-lit.
37. | sfḫḫ | caus. 2ae-gem.
38. | smn | caus. 2-lit.
39. | smnḫ | caus. 3-lit.
40. | sn | 2-lit.
41. | sndm | caus. 3-lit.
42. | srwj | caus. 3ae-inf.
43. | shj | caus. 3ae-inf.
44. | sḥtp | caus. 3-lit.
45. | sḫpr | caus. 3-lit.
46. | sḫr | caus. 2-lit.
47. | šmsj | 4ae-inf.
48. | qd | 2-lit.
49. | qdd | 2ae-gem.
50. | gmj | 3ae-inf.
51. | gmgm | 4-lit.
52. | dr | 2-lit.
53. | dj | 3ae-inf.
54. | dd | 2-lit.

EXERCISE 13

1. jj.n.j ḥr šms.f “I returned following him.”

2. tm jt(w) ḥtj n zj m .f m jmnt “Not taking the heart of a man from him in the West.”

3. nf.n.j wj m nftft r ḥḥ n.j jst dg “I took myself off by leaps and bounds to seek for myself a place of hiding.”

4. nj k.(j) spr r hnw pn “I did not intend to arrive at that residence.”

5. jrt.j šmt tr n ḫwj “My making a journey at the time of dusk.”

6. m.f wj ḥr jrt wpwt.k “He sees me doing your assignment.”

7. jwt pw jr.n.f n.j “What he did was to come to me.”

8. sḫ n.k hrw n qrs “Recall to yourself the day of entombment.”

9. jw mj ḫt wḥm st “It is like something big to repeat it” (i.e., “Repeating it is something major”).

10. wšb.k nn njtjt “You should answer without stuttering.”

11. nt pw jr.n.n m ḫd r hnw n jtj “What we did was to sail northward to home and to the sire.”

12. wrš.n.s jm ḥr swrj “She spent the day there drinking.”

13. m.k wj jj.kw r ḥmst jm.s “Look, I have come in order to sit in it” (4ae-inf. ḥmst).

14. ht pw jr.n p msḥ “What that crocodile did was to go down.”

15. jw.f rḫ tz dp ḥsq “He knows how to tie on a severed head.”

16. ḥmw hr dp.f ḥr mm n.f “A servant was at (literally, “under”) his head, giving him a masssage.”

17. jj.n.j r njs r.k m wpwt nt jt(j).j “I have come here to summon (literally, “call to”) you on an assignment of my father.”

18. wd pw jr.n.f ḥn.f r mryt ḥr rdjt n.f .f “What he did was to proceed with him to the riverbank, giving him his arm.”

19. ḥ.n sdm.n.s ḫrw ḥzj šm ḫbt wg “Then she heard the sound of singing, chanting, dancing, and festival-making.”

20. jwt pw jr.n r-wsr m jj m š “What Raweser did was to come, returning from the field.”

21. šs pw jr.n t wbyt r jnt n.s jkn n mw “What that maid did was to go off to get herself a scoop of water.”

22. šs pw jry r dd st n r(w)d-ddt jn py.s sn “What was done was the coming to tell it to Ruddjedet by her brother.”

23. tm m(w)t ky zp m hr(j)-ntr jn b “Not dying another time in the necropolis by a ba.”

24. wd.tw n.f db st “Let him be ordered to replace it.”

25. tm d zj r jbt “A man’s not crossing to the East” or “For a man not to cross to the East.”

26. mrr.k mn.j “You love to see me” (for 2ae-gem. mn see § 13.3.2c).

27. tw pw n fnd jrt mt “Doing Maat is air for the nose” (an A pw B nominal sentence with 3ae-inf. jrt mt as B).

28. tw pw n mjr ḫwt.f, dbb fnd.f pw nḥm st “His things are air to a needy man: to take them away is to stop up his nose” (two A pw B nominal sentences; in the second, 2ae-gem. dbb fnd.f is A and 3-lit. nḥm st is B).

EXERCISE 14

1. ḫtw ḥr gmgm t ḥr mnmn “Trees were cracking, the ground was quaking.”

2. tw r ḥḥj mw n ḥw “One will have to look for water for the masted boats.”

3. jw.tw r jrt ḥw m ḥmt “Weapons of bronze are to be made” (literally, “one is to make weapons of bronze”).

4. jw mw r ḫr n št.f

tjmḥw r ḫr n nswt.f

jw rt jmt ḫnt.f ḥr shrt n.f hkw-jb

“The Asiatics are to fall to his slaughter,

the Libyans are to fall to his flame,

(and) the uraeus on his brow pacifies the estranged for him.”

5. m.k ḥm .k ḥr wn(m) jtj.j, m.k sw r hbt ḥr qn.f “Now look, your donkey is eating my grain. Look, he will have to thresh because of his audacity.”

6. sr(j)w ḥr jrt jyt “Officials are doing a wrong.”

7. jn jw mḫt ḥr rdjt ḥr gs “Is the scale being partial?”

8. jn jw.k swt r gmt ky sḫtj mjtw.j “But will you find another peasant like me?” (literally, “… the likeness of me,” in apposition to sḫtj: see § 8.4).

9. m.k wj ḥr spr n.k “Look, I am appealing to you.”

10. wn.jn sḫtj pn ḥr rmyt wrt “Then this farmer was crying very much”

11. wn.jn.tw ḥr ḥq ḥwt-wrt

wn.jn.j ḥr jnt ḥqt jm zj 1 zt-ḥjmt 3 dmd r dp 4

wn.jn ḥm.f ḥr rdjt st n.j r ḥmw

“Then Avaris was being plundered.

Then I was getting plunder there: 1 man and 3 women, totalling to 4 head.

Then His Incarnation was giving them to me for servants”

(the word-order of ḥr rdjt st n.j is an exception to the rule discussed in § 13.6: here the dependent pronoun st is treated like a suffix pronoun and so comes before the dative n.j).

12. rḫ ḥr tjw, wḫ ḥr m-bj “The wise man is saying ‘Yes’ and the foolish man is saying ‘No’.”

13. jw.f ḥr jwt r jnt šs ḥn (j)m(j)-r š(j) sbk-m-ḥt “He is coming to get alabaster with quarry-overseer Sebekemhat.”

14. jw.f ḥr ḥ dr rk ḥrw “He has been fighting since the time of Horus.”

15. m.k wj ḥr m.f “Look, I am seeing it.”

16. ḥ.n ḥrw ḥr dgt r š pf km “Then Horus was looking at that black pig.”

17. m nb ḥr nmj “Every Asiatic was moaning.”

18. jb.j ḥr ḫrp.j “My mind was managing me” (i.e., my emotions were guiding me).

19. jw.f r jtt tw “He is to take possession of the lands.”

20. m.tn b.j ḥr tht.j “Look, my ba is misleading me.”

21. ḫnrj nb ḥr dd jw.j r jtt.k “Everyone deprived is saying, ‘I will rob you’.”

22. ḥjmt.f ḥr šs n.f “His wife was pleading with (literally, “to”) him.”

23. zj nb ḥr jtt ḫwt snnw.f “Every man is taking his fellow’s things” (see § 9.3).

24. jrtj.j ḥr gmḥ.k “My eyes are glimpsing you.”

25. m.tn ḥm.j ḥr št kwt “Look, My Incarnation is deciding works.”

EXERCISE 15

1. m wj r.tn ntrw, my m šms.j, jmj n.j j(w) “See me, gods! Come, following me (§ 13.11.2)! Give me praise!”

2. šm swt, ḫ n.j n n jtj “But go, measure for me that barley.”

3. m q ḫrw.k sḫtj “Don’t raise your voice, peasant!” (literally, “Don’t let your voice get high”).

4. sḥtm grgw, sḫpr mt, jmj bw-dw r t “Annihilate lying, bring about Maat, put evil down” (literally, “to the ground”).

5. m dd grgw “Don’t tell lies.”

6. m sbn, jr r.k ḥmw, šd ḥr nfryt “Don’t drift, but work (literally, “do”) the rudder, pull on the tiller!”

7. sdm r.k n.j, m.k nfr sdm n r(m)t, šms hrw nfr, smḫ mḥ “So listen to me; look, it is good for people to listen: follow a good time, forget care.”

8. m sfn ḥr zp, ndr n.k ḫsf.k “Don’t be mild about a matter: seize for yourself your opposition!”

9. swḥ mnw.k m mrwt.k “Make your monuments endure through love of you.”

10. sjqr ḥwt.k nt jmnt smnḫ jst.k nt hr(j)-ntr m q m jrt mt “Make excellent your enclosure of the West and make functional your place of the necropolis by being straight and by doing Maat.”

11. j.zj jn n.j qnbt nt hnw “Go, get me the council of the capital.”

12. mj mj nfrtj ḫnms.j “Come now, Neferti, my friend.”

13. jr grt ḥnw nb n jnp(w) … dj mj n.f sw “Now, as for any property of Anubis … please give it to him.”

14. h jsjr m-n.k jrt ḥrw, ḥt(m) ḥr.k jm.s “Oh, Osiris! Take to you the Eye of Horus: equip your face with it.”

15. m wn jb.k ḥr psšt “Don’t become greedy about a division.”

16. m wd dp nj js r sšmw “Don’t give commands except (§ 11.7) for guidance.”

17. m wšb nfrt m bjnt, m rdj kt m jst kt “Don’t answer something good with something bad: don’t put the one in the other’s place.”

18. m snd m snd nds “Don’t fer, don’t fear, mister!”

19. swrj, m jr ndb, nn jw.j r wḥ.t “Drink, don’t sip! I’m not going to stop you!” (see §§ 15.4, 14.8).

20. dgy n.tn n m ḫt “Look for yourselves to the future.”

21. jsw šwt pw ḫtt qbt m šmw “Indeed, he is an Inundation-season shade (literally, “he is a shade, an Inundation-season one”), a cool place in Harvest-season.”

22. jst r.f pr nmtj-nḫt pn ḥr zm t “Now, that Nemtinakht’s house was on the landing.”

23. nfr pw smnḫ wpw ḥr p jtj “There is nothing at all usable here (§ 8.12) except that barley.”

24. jw ms t ḥr msnḥ mj jrt nḥp, wy m nb ḥw “Surely, the land is spinning around like the action (literally, “doing”: infinitive) of a potter’s wheel: the robber is an owner (§ 6.9) of heaps of riches.”

25. jw.j ḥm r jrt hnt.j “And I am to do my excursion.”

26. wn.jn ḥm.f ḥr sq(r) jwnt(j) pf m ḥr(j) jb mš.f, jst wj m dp(j) n mš.n “Then His Incarnation was flattening that desert Nubian in the middle of his (the Nubian’s: note the determinative) army, while I was the headman of our army.”

27. jnk pw, jnk wdyt, jnk wnnt nbt twj “It is I: I am Wadjyet; I am indeed the mistress of the Two Lands.”

28. jr(j)w ḥmww ḥr h(t) r t

sšmww ḥr md(w)t n mt

jw ḥm jst.j m hnw ḥ

“Those at the rudders are heading toward land,

the pilots are talking to Maat (Essay 10),

and my place is inside the cabin.”

29. j ḥrw m(j) r.k r ddw “Oh, Horus, come to Busiris!”

30. j.nd ḥr.k jsjr, tz tw, sḫm jr.k “Hail to you, Osiris! Lift yourself, take control!”

31. j.nd ḥr.t jmnt nfrt, m(j) m šmsw jsjr “Hail to you, beautiful West! Come in the following of Osiris!”

32. j.nd ḥr.tn nbw (n)ḥḥ gr(g)w dt, m jtw jb.j m .j “Hail to you, lords of eternal repetition, founders of eternal sameness! Don’t take my mind from me.”

33. sdm pt ḥnmmt rḫwt ḥr-nb šmsw (n)swt r nmtwt.f

jmj bw.f n kt-ḫj

wb ḥr rn.f twrj ḥr nḫ.f

m.tn ntr pw m t

jmj n.f jw mj r

dw sw mj jḥ

“Listen, elite, humanity, subjects, and all people who follow the king in his footsteps!

Give his impressiveness to others.

Be pure about his name, be respectful about his life.

Look, he is a god in the land.

Give him praise like the Sun,

worship him like the Moon.”

EXERCISE 16

1. m.k r.f n jj.n(w) m ḥtp “So (§ 15.7.2) look, we have returned in peace.” For the1pl stative ending see § 16.2.

2. jb.kw ww pw n wd-wr “I thought it was a wave of the sea.”

3. ḥ.n.(j) jn.kw r jw pn jn ww n wd-wr “Then I was fetched to this island by a wave of the sea.”

4. ḥ.n.(j) q.kw ḥr jtj “Then I entered to the sire.”

5. ḫn.kw r jw n km-wr “I landed at an island of the Great Black.”

6. dd.k(w) r.j n.f “So, I spoke to him.”

7. ḫr ḥm kmt nfr.t(j) “And then Egypt must be happy.” For ḫr ḥm see §§ 15.6.13 and 15.7.8; the sense of inevitability conveyed by ḫr is the reason for translating “must be happy” instead of “is happy” (though the latter translation is also acceptable).

8. ḥtj nb mh.(w) n.j, ḥjmwt tyw ḥr (j)j, jb nb mr.(w) n.j “Every heart smoldered for me, women and men were wailing, and every mind was sick for me.”

9. jw.j mj zj jtw m ḫḫw, b.j zj.w, ḥw.j d.w “I was like a man possessed by darkness, my ba was gone, my limbs were feeble.”

10. m.t z-nht jw.(w) m m(w) “Look, Sinuhe has returned as an Asiatic.”

11. sd.kw m pqt, gs.kw m dpt, sdr.kw ḥr ḥnkyt “I was dressed in fine linen, I was anointed with firstclass oil, I lay on a bed.”

12. jw.j grt rḫ.kw nb n spt tn “Moreover, I know the owner of this estate.”

13. jw.k swt s.t(j) m t.k tḫ.t(j) m ḥ(n)qt.k “But you are sated with your bread and drunk with your beer.”

14. ḥr.t(j) r jrt jyt “Keep away from doing wrong” — literally, “Be far from doing wrong.”

15. wn.jn sḫtj pn snd.(w) “So, this peasant became afraid” or “So, this peasant was afraid.”

16. ḥ.n nḫw n mfkt mt ḫr.(w) ḥr mw “Then a fish-pendant of new turquoise fell in the water.”

17. m.k n rḫ.wjn smsj “Look, we know midwifery” — literally, “we know causing to give birth.”

18. jn jw p pr sspd.(w) “Is the house prepared?” For p, see § 5.10.3.

19. ḥ.n.s šm.tj r jkn n.s nhj n mw “Then she went to scoop up for herself a little water.” For nhj see § 6.7.

20. m.tn šwww nw t ḫpr.(w) m ḫwdw “Look, the outcasts of the land have become rich men” (literally, “have evolved into rich ones”); the position of the seated man determinative after the plural strokes is unusual.

21. tw.j d.kw n.sn r wšd st “I crossed over to them in order to address it.”

22. ḥjmwt tw jw.w r m n.j “Women and men came to look at me.”

23. jw n wr.(w) r.j m mjn “This has become (too) much for me now.”

24. m.k mdwt.sn mn.(w) m zhw “Look, their words are fixed in writing.”

25. jj.tj n.j, ḥ.tj n m nfr(w).j, z.j ndtj.j MN-ḪPR-R nḫ.(w) dt “Welcome to me! Be aroused at seeing my beauty, my son and my savior, MENKHEPERRE, alive forever!”

EXERCISE 17

1. nb.j jw gm.n.j w m nn n sḫtj nfr mdw n wn m “My lord, I have found one of those peasants who is truly fine of speaking” (w m § 9.4; nn n § 5.9).

2. m.k hb.n.j ḥr ḥn.k n (j)m(j) r pr ḥtw “Look, I have sent (word) commending you to the steward Hetu” (ḥr ḥn.k is an infinitival construction: § 13.11.1).

3. rdj.n.f wj m ḥrj jm(w) jzwt, jst grt rḫ.n.f wj m sr(j) mnḫ n ḥwt-ntr.f “He put me as the chief of a boat and crew, for he also knew me as an efficient official of his temple” (ḥrj is a nisbe: literally, “one over”).

4. jw b.n jb.j m zhw p(w)t dpt “My mind has desired to see the writings of the first original time” (m is the infinitive: § 13.12).

5. ḥ.n dd.n.f n.j pḥ.n.k nn ḥr mj “Then he said to me: ‘Why have you reached here?’” (ḥr mj literally “on account of what?”).

6. m.k grt dd.n n.j z-rn.f-snb z-nb jw rdj.n.j n.f jtj mḥ ḥqt 20 btj ḥqt ¼ 5 “Moreover, look, I said to Renefseneb’s son Sineb, ‘I have given him 20 heqat (96 liters) of barley and 30 heqat (144 liters) of wheat.”

7. ḥ.n t.n.f jt nt jsr wd r.f

ḥ.n g.n.f ḥr t.f nbt jm.s

“Then he took a branch of green tamarisk-wood to him;

then he pounded on each of his limbs with it” (t.f nbt literally “his every limb”).

8. gm.n sw wpwtjw ḥr wt, pḥ.n.sn sw r tr n ḫwj “The messengers found him on the way; they reached him at the time of dusk.”

9. rdj.n.j wt n rdwj.j m ḫd, dmj.n.j jnbw-ḥq “I gave the road to my feet downstream and touched the Ruler’s Walls.”

10. ḥ.n jn.n.j ḫwt.f ḥq.n.j mnmnwt.f “Then I got his things and plundered his herds.”

11. nj rḫ.n.tw mt r grgw “One cannot (or “does not”) know truth from lying” (literally, “One cannot learn truth with respect to lying”).

12. nj qbb.n ḫrwy m hnw kmt “An enemy cannot be calm in Egypt’s capital.”

13. nḥmn z.f q.(w) r ḥ, jt.n.f jwt nt jt(j).f “Surely his son has entered the palace and taken the inheritance of his father” (for the first clause see § 16.10).

14. ḥjmt.f ḥr šs n.f, nj sdm.n.f n.s “His wife was pleading with him, but he wouldn’t listen to her” (for the first clause, see Exercise 14, no. 22).

15. jn jw p.n ḥmwt tz sk(j)w “Have women ever raised of troops?”

16. Right: nswt-bjt nb twj nb ḫw NB-MT-R, z r n ht.f mr.f JMN-ḤTP ḤQ-WST “Dual King, lord of the Two Lands, lord of appearance, NEBMAATRE, bodily son of the Sun, his beloved, AMENHOTEP RULER OF THEBES.”

Middle: dj.n.(j) n.k nḫ ws nb wt-jb nb r nb “I have given you all life and dominion, and all happiness, every day.”

Left: jmn-r “Amun-Re”; dd.mdw dj.n.(j) n.k (n)swyt r ḥtpt nb df()w nb snb nb mj-r dt “I have given you the kingship of the Sun, all offerings, all food, and all health like Re forever” — mj-r is written with the god’s name in honorific transposition.

EXERCISE 18

1. ḫnms.k šmsw ḥrw

pr.k h.k nn ḥnḥ(n).k nn šn.k ḥr sb dwt

wn.tw n.k wj ḫt, zn n.k qrwt dsw.sn

hnm.k wsḫt nt mtj

wšd tw ntr jm.s

jr.k ḥms m hnw jmḥt

wstn.k m njwt nt ḥpj

w jb.k m sk.k m šd.k n sḫt jrw

jwt n.k šmw m wḥyt …

pr.k r ḥ tnw dww

nw.k tw tnw mšrw

st.tw n.k tk m grḥ …

dd.tw n.k jjwj zp 2 m pr.k pn n nḫw

“May you be friendly with the followers of Horus.

May you go up and go down without your being hindered and without your being refused at the gate of the Duat;

may the door of the Akhet be opened to you; may the doorbolts pull back for you themselves.

May you join the broad hall of the Two Maats;

may the god address you in it.

May you make your seat inside the Cavern;

may you stride in the town of the Inundation.

May your mind be happy (literally, “long”) in your plowing in your plot of the Field of Reeds;

may the harvest come to you with abundance of grain. …

May you go out each morning

and return (literally, “bring yourself back”) each evening.

May a taper be lit for you in the evening …;

may there be said to you ‘Welcome, welcome, in this your house of the living’.”

ḥnḥn.k and šn.k are infinitives: literally, “without the hindering of you, without the refusing of you” (§ 13.15); sk.k is also an infinitive.

2. jn ḫnd.k ḥr ḥbsw.j “Would you step on my clothes?”

3. jr h.k r š(j) n mt sqd.k jm.f m mw

nn kf nbdyt ḥt.k

nn jhm dpwt.k

nn jwt jyt m ḫt.k …

nn jt tw nwt

nn dp.k dwt nt jtrw

nn m.k ḥr snd

“If you go down to the lake of Maat and sail in it with the right wind,

no full sail of yours will rip open,

nor will your boat stall,

no mishap will come in your mast, …

nor will a swell take you,

nor will you taste the evil of the river,

nor will you see fear’s face.”

4. sm ḫrw.k r gs ntr, jḫ dd r(m)t ḫft ḫmt.k “Make right your voice beside the god: then people will speak according to your thinking” (ḫmt is an infinitive).

5. jr nnm.f, th.f sḫrw.k, tm.f jrt sbyt.k …

rwj.k sw, nn z.k js pw

“If he transgresses, violates your advice, and does not do your teachings …

You should expel him: he is not your son.”

6. ḥ n.j jb m rḫ wḫdw, k jry.j sḫnj ḥr.f “Would that I had a mind as one that knew how to bear up: then I would make landing on it.”

7. jr mr.k nfr sšmw.k, nḥm tw m dwt nbt “If you want your conduct to be good, take yourself away from everything evil.”

8. jm.k wḥm mskj “You should not repeat gossip.”

9. wp.k wwt n ntrw, wn.k n.sn m wp-wwt “You shall part the ways for the gods and be Wepwawet for them” — literally, ‘… you shall be for them as Wepwawet.”

10. jr gr.k, ḫpr n.k pḥw “If you are silent (or “still”), results will happen for you.”

11. jw.j dj.j mw n jb “I used to give water to the thirsty.”

12. nj zḫz.t(w) m s.j, nj sdm.j tz ḥwrw, nj sdm.tw rn.j m r wḥmw “No one ran after me, I did not hear a hue and cry (after me), my name was not heard in the herald’s mouth” (i.e., no one put out an order for my arrest).

13. jn jw wn ḫprt m hnw “Is there something that has happened at home?”

14. jn jw wḥ.tw hrw n ḥ, jn jw ḫb.tw jm.f r pw “Can one add a day to a lifetime? Can one subtract from it either?”

15. jw wn nds, ddj rn.f, ḥms.f m dd-SNFRW “There is a commoner named Djedi, and he resides in SNEFRU-Endures.”

16. wn.j jm.f ḥn snw.j “I used to be in it with my siblings” or “I was in it with my siblings.”

17. jw r n zj nḥm.f sw “The mouth of a man saves him.”

18. wnn.f m rwtj n sbḥw, j.qd.f nn djw “He is constantly out in the howling wind, building without a cloak.”

19. nn ms wn r(m)t m jst nb “Surely there are no people in any place.”

20. jr d dp n zj, ḫr.k wḥ.k drt.k ḥr dp.f “If the head of the man shakes, you have to put your hand on his head.”

21. jr hb.tn wp(w)t(j)w.tn r.j, nj jw.j n.tn “If you send your messengers for me, I will not come (§ 18.13 end) to you.”

22. nn tw mm.sn, nj wnn.k mm.sn “You are not among them; you will not be among them.”

23. jr jn.k, jmj n sn.k “If you get, give to your brother” — i.e., share your wealth.

24. jr pḥ st, nn jrt jw, wnn.f jm mj ntr “As for the one who reaches it without doing wrong, he will be like a god there.”

25. jr wnn.k m sšm ḥr wd sḫrw n št, ḥ(j)ḥj n.k zp nb mnḫ “If you are a leader, commanding the conduct of a multitude, seek out for yourself every worthwhile deed.”

EXERCISE 19

1. ḥ.n jn n.f smn, wd dd.f

ḥ.n rdj p smn r gb jmntj n wḫj

dd.f r gb jbtj n wḫj

“Then a goose was fetched for him, and its head was severed.

Then the goose was put on the west side of the columned hall

and its head on the east side of the columned hall.”

The first clause can be read ḥ.n jn.n.f smn “Then he fetched a goose,” but this is less likely in the context of the story from which this excerpt comes. The reading of as dd.f in the first sentence is indicated by the third line, where the word is spelled out.

2. jw ms wn ḫ, šd wpwt, sḫpr r(m)t-dt m nb dt “Surely, the office has been opened, the land-registers have been taken, and tenants have been made to become landowners” — i.e., the theft of written land records has allowed false land claims.

3. nj tnj sndw r sḫm-jb “The fearful cannot be distinguished from the violent.”

4. ḥ.n m n n kwt, ḥ.n.tw ḥ.w jm wr r ḫt nbt “Then those works were seen. Then there was excitement over it more than anything” — literally, “then one was excited.”

5. nḥm ḫwt zj r.f, rdj.w n ntj m rwtj “A man’s things have been taken from him and given to the one who is outside” — rdj.w is the stative (§ 19.3).

6. dd.jn n.f ḥm.f šs jr.k m ḫntyt ḥn jzwt prw

m sdr grḥ mj hrw r sprt.k r bdw

“Then His Incarnation said to him, ‘Go upstream with a crew of experienced (sailors). Don’t lie down by night or (literally, “like”) day until you have arrived at Abydos’.”

7. sr.sn d nj jjt.f nšnj nj ḫprt.f “They could predict a windstorm before it came, a thunderstorm before it happened.”

8. m.k nn dj.j n.f wt r sprt.k “Look, I won’t let him leave (literally, “give him the road”) until you have arrived.”

9. nj sm.n.j st r sdmtw.j ddtj.tn r.s “I cannot kill them until I have heard what you might say about it” — sdmtw.j for sdmt.j (§ 19.13).

10. m ḥw n ntt nj ḫprt “Don’t get excited at what has not yet happened.”

11. jr wnn jb n dḥwtj r šd(t) st ḥr r, wb.ḫr.f m wbt 9 hrww “If the mind of Thoth will be toward reciting it over the Sun, he has to become clean in a cleansing of nine days” — šd(t) is an infinitive (object of the preposition r); since šdj is 3ae-inf., the infinitive should be šdt (§ 13.3).

12. ḥ.n dd.n.sn nj sdm.n ḫt nbt, jw t ḫst ḥr m(w)t m ḥqrw, ḫr.fj st “Then they said, ‘We have not heard anything. The desert is dying from hunger,’ they said.”

13. jr jwt.k r.j m ḥft, m(w)t.k r, sft.k.t(w) pp “If you come against me as a snake, the Sun will die and Apophis will be butchered.”

14. nḫ.k jr.f m jšst … j.n.sn ntrw “‘So, on what (§ 5.12) will you live?’ … say they, the gods.”

15. m grg dw(w) nj jjt.f “Don’t set up the morning before it comes.”

16. m(j) mj, rm.n jsjr, dr ḥrt.f r.n “Come now (§ 15.7.6), let us weep for Osiris before he goes far away from us.”

17. wš.ḫr.f nn n jtj-mḥj nn n btj, zjn.ḫr.f jf.f jm

wn.ḫr ḥw.f wd.(w) mj nn n ntrw

“He has to chew this full barley and this emmer, he has to rub his flesh with it, and his body is inevitably freshened like those gods.”

18. j šwbtj jpn jr jp.tw jsjr N r jrt kwt nbt jrrwt jm m hrj-ntr …

r srd sḫwt, r smḥt wdbw, r hnt š n jmnt n jbtt

jry.j, m.k wj, k.k

“Oh, you (§ 5.10.1) shuabti! If Osiris N is allotted to do any work that is done in the necropolis …,

to plant fields, to flood the banks (of irrigation canals), to transport sand for the west or for the east (bank),

‘I will do (it): here I am!,’ you shall say.”

EXERCISE 20

1. jr.n.(j) nn mj qd jst w(j) m jmj jb nbt.f “I did all this while I was a confidant of his lady.”

2. mr.k sw, z.k js pw “You should love him, for he is your son.”

3. jr.n.(j) m ḫpš.(j) sk w(j) m hrd “I acted with my strong arm when I was (just) a boy.”

4. ḥjmt jty pw jsk ḥm.f m jnp “She was the sire’s wife when he was (still) a baby.”

5. mdw.k n nswt, jb.k m .k “You should speak to the king with your mind with you” (i.e., “with your wits about you”).

6. jw wp.n.f r.f r.j, jw.j hr ht.j m bḥ.f “He opened his mouth at me, as I was on my belly in his presence.”

7. m dd grg, jw.k wr.t(j) “Don’t tell lies, since you have become inportant.”

8. jn zhw rryt z-nḫt ḥ-nḫt jrr nn n hntjw

jw.f ḥr jwt r jnt šs ḥn (j)m(j)-r š(j) sbk-m-ḥt

“It is scribe of the gate Nakht’s son Ahanakht who makes these pictures
when he is coming to get alabaster with quarry-overseer Sebekemhat.”

9. dd.n.f nn, rḫ.n.f qd.j, sdm.n.f šs.j,

mt(r).n wj r(m)t kmt ntjw jm ḥn.f

“He said this because he had learned of my character and had heard of my experience, people of Egypt who were there with him having witnessed to me.”
(Note the logical sequence of events: first “people testified,” then “he learned … and … heard,” and then “he said”).

10. gm.n.f p nḫw wḥ.(w) ḥr pqyt “He found that fish-pendant set on a sherd.”

11. nḥmn z.f q.(w) r ḥ, jt.n.f jwt nt jt(j).f “Surely his son has entered the palace, having taken the inheritance of his father” (alternative translation of Exercise 17, no. 13).

12. jw dj.n tw ḥm.j r smr, jw.k m ḥwn n rnpt 26,

jr.n ḥm.(j) nw, m.n.j tw m jqr sḫr

“My Incarnation has appointed you as courtier, although you are (only) a youth of 26 years. My Incarnation has done this because I have seen you as one who is excellent of conduct.”
jw dj.n tw ḥm.j r smr is literally “My Incarnation has given you to courtier”; jqr sḫr is a nfr ḥr construction (§ 6.5).

13. wmt jb pw m.f št “He is one stout-minded (§ 6.5) when he sees a multitude (of enemies).”

14. mw m jtrw swrj.t(w).f mr.k, tw m pt ḫnm.t(w).f dd.k “The water in the river, it is drunk when you like; air in the sky, it is breathed when you say.”

15. wbn.f wn wnwt “He will rise when it is time” — literally, “when the hour exists.”

16. šnwy.j ddf.(w) m.j st “My hair crawled (§ 16.8) when I saw it.”

17. jj.n.s ḥ.s m ḥbsw.s tḫtḫ.s šnw.s “She came shedding (literally, “getting naked from”) her clothes and messing up her hair.”

18. ḥ n.j šzp nb mnḫ, wy.j ḥnw n sḫtj pn jm.f “Would that I had any effective amulet (§ 10.7), so that I could steal the property of that peasant from him.”

19. s srjw.k jr.sn hpw.k “Make great your officials and they will do your laws” or “… that they may do your laws.”

20. wd ḥm.k r prw nw zhw, m ḥm.k mdw-ntr nbw “Your Incarnation should proceed to the houses of writings, that Your Incarnation might see all the hieroglyphs” or “… and Your Incarnation will see all the hieroglyphs.”

21. m q jb.k tm.f dḥj “Don’t let your mind get big (§ 15.4) and it won’t be humbled.”

22. mj mj jb.j, mdw.j n.k wšb.k n.j tzw.j “Come now (§ 15.7.6), my mind, that I may speak to you and you may answer for me my sentences.”

EXERCISE 21

1. dd.k n hb tw ḫ js r.j r ds.f “You should say to the one who sent you that my mouth is more effective than his knife” or “is effective against his knife.”

2. rḫ m jb.tn nb.tn js pw ntr pn jmj swḥt.f “Know in your mind(s) that this god who is in his egg is your lord” (an A pw B nominal sentence as a noun clause).

3. jw.j rḫ.kw ntt ḫt pw jpt-jswt dp t “I know that Karnak is the Akhet (Essay 2) on earth.”

4. ḥr ntt jnk z wb mj w jm.tn nb “because I am a priest’s son like each one of you” (see § 9.4).

5. sdd.j bw.k n jtj, dj.j sš.f m .k “I will relate your impressiveness to the sire; I will make him become aware of your greatness.”

6. jmj wd.tw n bk-jm jrt mdw jwj dj.tw ḥ z.j m jst.j “Let it be ordered to your humble servant to make a ‘staff of old age’ and to have my son stand in my place” (wd.tw and dj.tw are both dependent on jmj; jrt is an infinitive serving as object of wd.tw; ḥ z.j is dependent on dj.tw: literally, “Give that one command to the servant therein to make a staff of old age and that one give that my son stand in my place”).

7. dj.j jn.t(w) n.k ḥw tp.w hr špssw nb n kmt “I will send you ships loaded with every fine thing of Egypt” (rdj jn.tw “have one fetch” = “send”; tp.w is stative).

8. jw.f rḫ.(w) rdjt šm mj ḥr s.f “He knows (how) to make a lion walk at his back” (rdjt is infinitive: see § 13.12).

9. dj.j mr.k zhw r mjwt.k

dj.j q nfrw.f m ḥr.k

wr sw grt r jwt nbt

“I will make you love writing more than your mother.

I will make its perfection enter your face.

Moreover, it is greater than any office.”

10. m.k rnpt n nt jrr zj n nb.f “Look, this is the year for a man to act for his lord” — literally, “of a man acts for his lord”: jrr is a geminated sdm.f after the indirect genitive nt.

11. dd.n.j nn ḫft m.n.j “I have said this according as I have seen” — m.n.j is a sdm.n.f serving as object of the preposition ḫft.

12. w pw n dd ntr “He is a unique one of the god’s giving” — literally, “of the god gives”: dd is a geminated sdm.f after the indirect genitive n.

13. jr jw.f dgmy, wnn.f pw gr.(w) m gmw, nn mdt “As for ‘he is dazed,’ it means that he is silent in grief, not speaking” — wnn.f gr.(w) is a SUBJECT–stative construction serving as the nominal predicate of an A pw sentence.

14. jr r.f mr.(w) … tm.f wn r.f pw “As for ‘his mouth is bound’ … it means that he does not open his mouth” — tm.f wn r.f serves as the nominal predicate of an A pw sentence.

15. jr.n.j nw n mrwt wnn rnw.sn mn.(w) n dt “I have done this for the sake of their names being set for eternity” — wnn rnw.sn mn.(w) is a SUBJECT–stative construction serving as object of the compound preposition n mrwt.

16. m mrr.k m.j snb.kw, swdf.k sw “As you love to see me healthy, you should delay him here” — mrr.k is a geminated sdm.f as object of the preposition m.

17. ḫr wn ḥrw ḥr mrt grg.s ḥr jn.f w(j) r.s r grg.s “Horus must have been wanting to found it, because he brought me to it to found it” — jn.f is a sdm.f as object of the preposition ḥr.

18. jw.f m nswt, jt.n.f m swḥt, ḥr.f r.s dr ms.tw.f “He is king, having taken possession in the egg, his face toward it since he was born” — ms.tw.f is a sdm.f as object of the preposition dr.

19. jr ḫpr m fntw, wnm.ḫr.f st dr tm.f rḫ r n sw ḥr.f “As for him who happens upon maggots, he has to eat them because he does not know the spell for passing by it” — tm.f is a sdm.f as object of the preposition dr.

20. dd.n.f ḥ.f ḥn.j “He said he would fight with me” — ḥ.f is a sdm.f serving as object of dd.n.f.

21. nn rḫ.tw ḫpr mtrt “One does not know that noon happens” — ḫpr is a sdm.f serving as object of rḫ.tw.

22. jr.sn n.j wt nfrt, m.sn prr.j m kr “They will make a good path for me, when they see that I emerge from the shrine” — prr.j is a geminated sdm.f serving as object of m.sn.

23. jw grt wd.n ḥm.f prr.(j) r ḫst tn “Moreover, His Incarnation commanded that I go out to this desert” — prr.(j) is a nominal sdm.f serving as object of wd.n.

24. dbḥ.j wnn.k m šmsw r “I will request that you always be in the Sun’s following” — wnn.k is a geminated sdm.f serving as object of dbḥ.j.

EXERCISE 22

1. sšmw pn ntj wj hr.f “this situation that I was in (literally, “under”)”

2. jt.n.j ntt m jm.f “I took possession of what was in his tent.”

3. jnk jmj jb n (j)t(j.j) r nb ntt jwtt “I am a confidant of my father the Sun, lord of what is and what is not.”

4. nfr st ḥr jb.f r ḫt nbt ntt m t pn r dr.f “It was better in (literally, “on”) his mind than anything that is in this entire land.”

5. sj.n.j ntjw m hnw.s “I recognized those who were inside it.”

6. m.tn jwtj ḥtrj.f m nb jdrw “Look, he who had no plow-team is (now) an owner of herds.”

7. jšst pw ntj jm “What is the one who is there?”

8. nn ntj ḥ.(w) n.k m t kmt “There is no one expecting you in this part of Egypt” — literally, “there is not (one) who stands for you.”

9. dj.n.j t n ntj ḥqr.(w) ḥbsw n ntj ḥ.w tbwwt n jwtj sw “I have given bread to the one who was hungry, clothes to the one who was naked, and sandals to the one who had none.”

10. m pḥ ntj nj pḥ.n.f “Don’t attack one who does not attack.”

11. ḥjmt wb pw n r nb shbw, jwr.tj m hrdw 3 “She is the wife of a laypriest of Re, lord of Sakhbu, who is pregnant with three boys.”

12. jw jb.f gp.(w) mj z(j) wnm.n.f kw nw nht “His mind is clouded, like a man who has eaten fruits of the sycamore.”

13. jnk msd.f ḫt bjn “I am one who hates something bad.”

14. nn jst nbt tmt.n.(j) jr mnw jm.s “There is not any place in which I did not make a monument.”

15. jw.j m ḥ(j)ḥ(j) bw wn.n.j jm “I am in search of the place in which I was” — or bw wnn.j jm “the place in which I will exist.”

16. pw-trj jrt.n r.s “What can we do about it?” — literally, “What is that which we can do about it?”

17. ms.n.f wj [m] jrr jrt.n.f “He has given me birth as one who does what he has done.”

18. jn p pw ddw r(m)t “Is this what people say?”

19. m.k jrrt.sn pw r sḫtjw.sn “Look, it is what they do to their peasants” — an A pw nominal sentence.

20. ḥz tw ḥr(j)-š(j).f jj.n.k m pr.f “May Harsaphes, from whose house you have come, bless you” — literally, “who you have come from his house.”

21. nn ḫm rdj.n.k rḫ.f, nn wḫ sb().n.k “There is non ignorant whom you have made learn; none foolish whom you have instructed” — the coreferent in the first sentence is the suffix pronoun of rḫ.f (a sdm.f dependent on rdj.n.k: literally, “who you have given that he learn”).

22. m fḫ jb.k ḥr ddtj.j n.k “Don’t lose heart (literally, “your heart”) over what I will say to you.”

23. nj rḫ.n.tw ḫprt jrrt ntr ḫft “One cannot know what might happen or what the god might do”

24. jn jw gmḥ.k jrt.n kmt r.j “Do you see what Egypt has done to me?”

25. rhnt jb.sn pw ḥr.s “It is something that their mind can depend on” — an A pw nominal sentence: literally, “It is what their mind can depend on it.”

26. wdt.n k.k pw ḫpr[t] jty nb.j “What happens is what your ka has commanded, sire my lord” (an A pw B nominal sentence).

27. j.zj r.k, jw jr.n.k mj wdt.n nbt ḥm.j “So, go (§ 15.2.1), and return when you have done like all that My Incarnation has commanded.”

28. ḥ.n dwn.n.j rdwj.j r rḫ djt.j m r.j “Then I stretched my legs to learn what I might put in my mouth.”

29. ršwj sdd dpt.n.f, zn ḫt mr “How happy is he who relates what he has tasted when something painful passes” — an adjectival sentence.

30. wd pw jr.n.sn r bw jj.n.sn jm “What they did was proceed to the place they came from.”

31. ptr ddt n.j nb.j “What is that which my lord says to me?”

32. rdj.n.j n.f wj.j ḥr sḫpr ḥrw “The one to whom I gave my arms was creating terror.”

33. ḥtp-dj-nswt jsjr nb bdw ntr wnn-nfr.(w) wp-wwt mnw ntrw jm(j)w bdw dj.sn prt-ḫrw t ḥnqt kw pdw šsr mnḫt sntr mrḥt ḫt nbt nfrt wbt nḫt-ntr jm ddt pt q〈m〉t t n k n zh qdwt sbkw-nḫt.(w) jr.n mt m ḫrw nb jmḫ n k n ḥjmt.f mrt.f jnj jrt.n zt-sty(t) m ḫrw

“A royal offering of Osiris, lord of Abydos, Wenennefer; Wepwawet; Min; and the gods who are in Abydos,

giving an invocation offering of bread and beer, cattle and fowl, linen and clothing, incense and oil, every good and pure thing on which a god lives, which the sky gives and the earth creates,

for the ka of the outline-scribe Sebeknakht, begotten of Mat, justified, possessor of worth; and for the ka of his wife, whom he loves, Ini, begotten of Sitsatet, justified.”

EXERCISE 23

1. nn jtrw rdj sdg.f “There is no river that lets itself be hidden.”

2. nn nḫ rqtj.f wj “He who will oppose me will not live.”

3. m.tn jwtj prt.f m nb šnwt, jn n.f tbt m dd(j) pr.s “Look, he who had no seed-grain is (now) owner of a granary, and he who got for himself a grain-loan is (now) one who issues it.”

4. m.tn ḫm ddt m nb b(j)nt, tm ḥsjw n.f ḥr swh mrt “Look, he who did not know the lyre is (now) owner of a harp, and he who did not sing for himself is (now) extolling Meret.”

5. sḥdw(j) sw twj r jtn “How much more illuminating of the Two Lands is he than the sundisk!”

6. hnmw pw n ḥw nb, wttw sḫpr rḫyt “He is Khnum for every body, the begetter who creates the subjects.”

7. m hz wn ḥr dd jnk nb “the vile Asiatic who was saying ‘I am the lord’.”

8. wdwj jr n n ntr.f “How fortunate is he who has done this for his god!”

9. [h]b tw ḥm.j r jrt nn sj.n ḥm.j wnt nn jrt(j).f st nb ḥr ḫw.k “My Incarnation sends you to do this because My Incarnation has recognized that there is none who will do it except you” (literally, “there is not any one-who-will-do it”; the suffix of sj.n is placed before the determinative).

10. wnn.k ḥr rdjt dj.tw n.f qw, nn rdjt rḫ.f ntt ntk rdj n.f st “You shall be having rations given to him, without letting him know that you are the one who gives them to him” — for wnn.k ḥr rdjt, see § 18.9.

11. jn wnm dp

jw wšdw wšb.f

jn sdrw m rswt

“It is the eater who tastes,

the one questioned replies,

it is the sleeper who sees a dream.”

12. jr zj jw mt 12 jm.f n ḥtj.f, ntsn dd n t.f nbt “As for a man, there are twelve vessels in him for the heart: they are the ones that give to his every part.”

13. nj jnk js dd n.k nw, jn gbb dd n.k nw ḥn jsjr “I am not the one who says (or “said”) this to you: Geb is the one who says (or “said”) this to you, along with Osiris.”

14. ḥ.n dd.n.f n.j (j)n mj jn tw zp 2 nds, (j)n mj jn tw r jw pn n wd-wr “Then he said to me, ‘Who fetched you, who fetched you (§ 9.5), mister? Who fetched you to this island of the sea?’”

15. jn mj jr.f jn.f sw gm.f sw, jnk jn.j sw, jnk gm.j sw “So who will get him and find him? I am the one who will get him, I am the one who will find him.”

16. jn jw wn ḫprt m hnw “Is there something that has happened at home?” — see Exercise 18, no. 13.

17. nn wn rwj ḥw.f, nn jtḥ pdt.f “There is non who can escape his arrow, non who can draw his bow.”

18. jr ḥmwtj nb sqd nb r(m)t nbt f()wt(j).sn .sn n twt pn, jn nmtj ḥz.f sw “As for any craftsman, any voyager, or any people who shall lift their hand to this image, Nemti is the one who will bless him.”

EXERCISE 24

1. dmj.n.j jnbw ḥq jry r ḫsf sttjw “I touched The Ruler’s Walls, made to bar the Asiatics.”

2. ḫw nb ddw r rwd “every lind of paraphernalia put in (literally, “given to”) a strong-room.”

3. dg mdt nfrt r wd “Good speech is more hidden than malachite” (see Essay 19).

4. m jr ḥw ḥr mddwt “Don’t do more than what are said.”

5. nj nfr.n bw jrrw st jm “No place in which it is done can be good” — literally, “the place done it therein” (see § 24.6). It is also possible to read nj nfr n “it is not good for,” but this is less likely because the adjectival sentence is normally negated by nn (§ 11.6).

6. rf pw n ḫbdt (or ḫbdwt) nbt “It is a sack of everything that is depised.”

7. wḥm mdt m nj sdm “Repeat a matter that is seen, not heard” (see § 11.7).

8. mrr sdm pw jrr ddt (or ddwt) “He who does what is said is the one who loves hearing.”

9. ršwj dddj n.f nn “How joyful is he to whom this is said!”

10. m.tn nj ddw n.sn p qw m jst nbt “Look, there are none to whom such rations are given anywhere” — literally, “there are not those given to them such rations in any place.”

11. jw ḫ n jrrw n.f st “It is useful for him for whom it is done” — jrrw n.f st is literally, “the one done it for him.”

12. j.k(w) m ḥtp r šmw, jr.n.(j) hbt wj r.s “I returned in peace to the Nile Valley, having done that for which I was sent” —literally, “having done that sent me for it.”

13. nn šww jry n.f mjtt “There is none lowly for whom the like has been done” — literally, “done for him the like.”

14. njsw pw jy “The one who comes is the one who has been summoned.”

15. jw.j ḥr jrt mj wddt nbt “I was doing like all that was commanded.”

16. nfrt nbt jnnt n ḥm n nb.j “everything good gotten for the Incarnation of my lord.”

17. jryt m tmt jr “what has been made will be as what has not been made.”

18. ḥ n.j ḫnw ḫmmj “Would that (or “If only”) I had unknown phrases.”

19. wḥmw dddt “What has been said has been repeated.”

20. d.k ḥr dt ḥr.s “You should get angry only about something to get angry about” — literally, “that which is angered about it.”

EXERCISE 25

1. jw.k r.j dd.j r.k, tm.k jw r.j nn dd.j r.k “If you come against me I will speak against you. If you don’t come against me, I won’t speak against you.” Two sentences. The first is a balanced sentence. In the second sentence, tm.k jw serves as an initial conditional clause; the rheme is the main clause nn dd.j r.k.

2. jnn.k st m ktkt, jm m r(m)t “You should bring them surreptitiously; don’t let the people see.” The rheme is the prepositional phrase m ktkt.

3. nj j.n.f js ds.f “It is not by himself that he has come.” The rheme is the noun phrase ds.f used adverbially (§ 8.14).

4. zbb.k n.j sw r s sk “You should send him to me after the plowing.” The rheme is the prepositional phrase r s sk.

5. jrr.k grt p šj m jtj-mḥ, m jr btj jm; jr grt jw.f m ḥp(j) , jrr.k sw m btj “Now, you should do that basin-land in full barley: don’t do emmer there. But if it comes as a big inundation, you should do it in emmer.” The rheme is the prepositional phrase m jtj-mḥ in the first clause and m btj in the second.

6. [mj].tn j.n.j mj n m ḫntyt, jr.n.j qw.tn r nfr “Look, before I came upstream here, I made your salary to perfection” or “it was (only) after I made your salary to perfection that I came upstream here.” The rheme is the main clause jr.n.j qw.tn r nfr; note the sequence of events: jr.n.j qw.tn before j.n.j mj n m ḫntyt.

7. ḥd.n t jw.j ḥr.f mj wn bjk, ḫpr.n nw n stj-r ss.j sw “At dawn I was on him as a falcon would be; by the time breakfast had come I was driving him back” — literally, “The land became bright as I was on him as a falcon would be; the time of breakfast happened as I drove him back.” The rhemes are the clauses jw.j ḥr.f mj wn bjk and ss.j sw; wn is a sdm.f serving as object of the preposition mj.

8. dd.n.j nn ḫft m.n.j “I have said this according as I have seen.” The prepositional phrase is the rheme: the point is not that “I have said this” but how “I have said this.”

9. dd.j n mj mjn, snw bjn.(w), jnn.tw m drdrw r mtt nt jb “To whom can I speak now? Brothers have become bad; one resorts to strangers for innermost thoughts.” In the first sentence, the rheme is the prepositional interrogative n mj. In the second sentence, the rheme is the prepositional phrase m drdrw.

10. m.tn ḫt pr.tj, ḫm.tw.s jr.f m mj, ḫm.tw.s m jtnw “Look, a fire has emerged. So, with what is it doused? It is doused with ashes.” In the first clause, the rheme is the interrogative prepositional phrase m mj; in the second, the prepositional phrase m jtnw.

11. wnn t pn m mj, jtn ḥbs.w nn psd.f …

wnn js ḥr-nb jd.(w) m g(w).f “What will this land be, when the sun-disk is covered and will not shine …

since everyone is senseless from his absence?”

In the first clause, the rheme is the interrogative prepositional phrase m mj “as what?”; in the second, the prepositional phrase m g(w).f. In the last clause, wnn makes it possible for the SUBJECT-stative construction ḥr-nb jd.(w) to function as an emphatic predicate. The particle js indicates that this clause is subordinated—in this case, as an adverb clause.

12. ḫpr.n tr n msyt sḥ.n.j r dmj ngw, d.n.j m wsḫt nn ḥm(w).s “When the time of supper came, I set foot at Steer Harbor. I crossed (the river) in a barge with no rudder.” In the first sentence, the rheme is the clause sḥ.n.j r dmj ngw. In the second sentence, the rheme is the prepositional phrase m wsḫt nn ḥmw.s (for nn ḥmw.s see § 11.4).

13. jr.n.t(w).f r ḥ(w)t stjw r ptpt nmjw-š “He has been made to hit the Asiatics and to trample the sand-trekkers.” The prepositional phrases are the rheme.

14. spr.n wd pn r.j ḥ.kw m ḥr(j) jb wḥwt.j, šd.n.t(w).f n.j dj.n.(j) wj ḥr ht.j “This decree reached me as I was standing in the middle of my tribe. When it was read to me, I put myself on my belly.” In the first sentence, the rheme is the adverb clause ḥ.kw m ḥr(j) jb wḥwt.j. In the second sentence, the rheme is the clause dj.n.(j) wj ḥr ht.j.

15. jrr ḥm.k m mrr.f, nḫ.tw m tw n dd.k “Let Your Incarnation do as he likes: one lives from the air of your giving.” jrr and nḫ.tw serve as the predicate of emphatic sentences; the rhemes are the prepositional phrases; mrr.f serves as the object of the preposition m; dd.k is the second noun of an indirect genitive.

16. ḥ.n dd.n.j n.s tm.t hn ḥr mj “Then I said to her: ‘Why do you not row?’” tm.t hn serves as predicate of an emphatic sentence; the rheme is the interrogative prepositional phrase ḥr mj “on account of what?”

17. jj.n.j r njs r.k m wpwt nt jt(j).j “I have come here to summon you on a mission of my father.” The rheme is the prepositional phrase r njs r.k m wpwt nt jt(j).j.

18. tm.tw ms jn hnw ḥr mj “Why indeed were the jars not brought?” — literally, “The jars were indeed not brought on account of what?” The rheme is the interrogative prepositional phrase ḥr mj.

19. jr.t r tn(j) jdyt šrt “Where were you making for, little girl?” The rheme is the interrogative prepositional phrase r tn(j) “to where?”

20. jr.f n.j mj mrr jmjw jwnw “May he do for me as those in Heliopolis like.” The sentence rheme is mj mrr jmjw jwnw rather than jr.f n.j.

21. nḫ.k jr.f m jšst, wnm.k jr.f m jšst … nḫ.j m t “So, on what will you live? So, of what will you eat? … I will live on bread.” In the first two sentences, the theme is the prepositional interrogative; in the third, it is the prepositional phrase.

22. q.k jr.f tn, pr.k jr.f mj jšst

q.j m wn, pr.j m ḥrw “So, where will you enter? So, like what will you emerge?

I will enter into the sanctuary; I will emerge as Horus.”

In the first two sentences, the themes are the interrogatives; in the third and fourth, they are the prepositional phrases.

23. ḥn r(m)t wt nt ntr, jr.n.f pt t n jb.sn … jr.n.f tw n jb nḫ fndw.sn
snnw.f pw prw m ḥw.f, wbn.f m pt n jbw.sn …
rmm.sn jw.f ḥr sdm … jw ntr rḫ.w rn nb

“Well provided are people, the flock of the god. It is for their heart that he has made the earth and the sky …. He has made air for the heart so that their noses might live.

They are his likenesses, that came from his body. It is for their hearts that he rises in the sky ….

When they weep, he is listening … For the god knows every name.”

This text was quoted more extensively in Essay 5. Both instances of jr.n.f serve as the predicate of an emphatic sentence. The rheme in the first is the prepositional phrase n jb.sn; in the second, it is the purpose clause nḫ fndw.sn (§ 20.13). wbn.f is a sdm.f serving as predicate of an emphatic sentence; the rheme is the prepositional phrase n jbw.sn. rmm.sn is also a sdm.f (geminated); the rheme is the clause jw.f ḥr sdm.

INDEX

The general organization of this book is such that broad topics can easily be found by consulting the Table of Contents or the individual lessons. The first section below is intended primarily as a guide to grammatical topics that span more than one lesson and to non-grammatical subjects covered in the Essays. The second section lists Egyptian words discussed in the course of the lessons. Unless preceded by “Essay” or “Ex.” (the latter referring to the Exercises), numbers refer to the sections of each lesson: for instance, 13.14 = § 13.14. References to footnotes are cited by lesson and footnote number: for example, 23 n. 10 = Lesson 23, note 10.

Abydos (place) — 13.14, Essay 21, 23 n. 10, Essay 25

Active voice — 12.9.4

adherence, statement of — 7.8

adjectival predicate — 7.2, 7.15, 8.5, 11.2, 11.6, 18.9, 20.3, 21.3, 21.11, 22.10, 23.8, 24.5, 26.15.2

adjective — 6.1, 26.5

adjective verb — 12.2, 16.9, 17.3

adjective, interrogative — 6.6, 7.13

adjunct question — 17.12, 25.5

adverb — 8.1, 8.11, 26.6

adverb clause — 20.1, 25.7, 26.17

adverb, interrogative — 8.13

adverbial predicate — 10.1, 11.2, 11.9.2, 11.11.2, 14.5, 18.7, 20.3–4, 20.6–7, 20.15, 22.2, 22.10, 22.21, 25.12, 26.15.3, Essay 26

Afro-asiatic — 1.1

afterlife — Essay 8, Essay 10

agent — 12.2, 12.9.4, 13.4.1, 19.3

agreement — 6.2

Aha (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Ahmose (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Åkerblad, Johan — 1.13

akh — Essay 3, Essay 8

Akhenaten (pharaoh) — Essay 1, Essay 16, Essay 21

Akhet — Essay 2, Essay 4

Akhetaten (place) — Essay 16

Akkadian — 16.1

aleph — 2.3

Alexander the Great — Essay 1

allegory — Essay 18

alliteration — Essay 18

Amarna (place) — Essay 16

Amarna Period — Essay 1, Essay 16

Amaunet (goddess) — Essay 11

Amduat — Essay 22

Amenemhat I (pharaoh) — Essay 19, Essay 20

Amenemhat II (pharaoh) — 22 n. 15

Amenemhat III (pharaoh) — 9.9, Essay 6, Essay 24

Amenemhat, Instruction of — Essay 19

Amenhotep I (pharaoh) — 24 n. 6

Amenhotep III (pharaoh) — Essay 16, Ex. 17

Amenhotep IV (pharaoh) — Essay 16

Ameny (pharaoh) — Essay 19

Amun (god) — 2.7, Essay 4, Essay 5, Essay 6, Essay 11, Essay 15, Essay 16

Amun-Re (god) — Essay 4, Essay 15, Essay 16

analytic — 12.3

animals, related to gods — Essay 4

Ankhesenpaaten — Essay 16

Annunciation — Essay 13

anomalous verbs — 12.6

antecedent — 22.1; undefined — 22.10

Anubis (god) — 22.25.2

apodosis — 18.12

Apophis (pharaoh) — Essay 24

apposition — 4.11

Arabic — 1.1–2, 2.1, 2.4, 16.1, Essay 18, Essay 26

Archaic Period — Essay 1

area, measurements of — 9.2

aroura — 9.2, 9 n. 4

art — Essay 16

article, definite and indefinite — 5.10.3, 9.4, Essay 18

Asia Minor — Essay 21

Asiatics — Essay 3, Essay 19

aspect — 12.9.2, 17.1, 26.14

astronomy — Essay 24

Aswan (place) — Essay 2, Essay 21, Essay 25

Aten (god) — Essay 16

Atum (god) — Essay 4, Essay 12, Essay 13

ayin — 2.3–4

ba — Essay 7, Essay 19, Essay 22

balanced sentence — 7.7, 25.9

base stem — 12.4.1

Beautiful Feast of the Valley — Essay 5

Beja — 1.1

Berber — 1.1, 16.1

Berlin Museum — Essay 20

Bible — Essay 13, Essay 14, Essay 16

Big Bang — Essay 12, Essay 14

body — Essay 7

Bohairic — 1.3

Book of Caverns — Essay 22

Book of Gates — Essay 22

Book of the Dead — 1.9, Essay 2, Essay 8, Essay 22

Book of Two Ways — Essay 22

British Museum — Essay 14

Budge, E. A.W. — 2.2–3, Essay 26

Caesar Augustus — Essay 1

calendar — 9.10

Canopic jar — Essay 8

caption — 20.12, 21.13, 22.16

cartouche — 1.13, Essay 6

categories of words — 26.2

causality — 26.19

causative — 12.4.3, 21.8

cedar — 22 n. 10

cenotaph — Essay 21

centaroura — 9.7.2

Champollion, Jean-François — 1.12

chief steward — Essay 20

chorus — Essay 23

Christianity — 1.11, Essay 1, Essay 14, Essay 15

chronology — Essay 1, Essay 9

circumstantial clause — 20.2, 20.8, 20.10–11, 20.12–13, 20.16, 26.18, Essay 26

circumstantial sdm.f — Essay 26

clause — 20.1, 26.16, 26.24

cleft sentence — 25.3

Cleopatra — 1.13

Cleopatra VII (pharaoh) — Essay 1

coffin — 24 n. 10

Coffin Texts — Essay 22

colophon — Essay 18

comparative — 6.8, 7.4.2, 8.2.7, 8.17

complementary infinitive — 13.19–20

completion — 12.9.2, 17.1, 17.3, 17.7, 17.11, 19.4, 22.14

compound sentence — 16.10

concession, initial clause of — 25.8.1

concomitance — 13.11.1, 21.11

conditional sentence — 18.12, 25.8.1, 26.17, 26.20

conjunction — 4.12

consequence — 19.10, 19.12

consonant — 2.1, 2.4, Essay 17

contrary to fact — 17.8

coordination — 4.12

Coptic — 1.2.5, 1.3, 1.11, 2.1, 2.4, 2.7–8, 3.1, 7 n. 5, 7.13.1, 9.2, 9.10, Essay 11, 12.4.1, 12 n. 1, 14.1, 15.1, 15.2.2, 15.6.4, 16.1–2, 18.2, 18 n. 10, 21.8, 23 n. 6, Essay 26

Coptic alphabet — 2.5

coreferent — 22.1–2, 22.6, 22.17

creation — Essay 10–15, Essay 21

cubit — 9.7.1

dative — 10.7, 13.6, 15.2.4, 15.3, 17.2, 22.18, 26.15

David and Goliath — Essay 20

day — Essay 2, 9.8

day-boat — Essay 2

death — Essay 7–8

deben — 9.7.3

decaroura — 9.7.2

decipherment — 1.12

defective verbs — 12.7

defined — 4.9

Delta — Essay 2

demiurge — Essay 14

Demotic — 1.2.4, 1.10, 1.12, Essay 20, Essay 24, Essay 26

dependent clause — 20.1

desert — Essay 2

determinative — 1.5, 3.5.3

dialect — 1.3

Dialogue of a Man with His Soul — Essay 19

direction — Essay 2

disjunction — 4.12

Djeser-djeseru (place) — 2.7

dual — 4.7

Duamutef (god) — Essay 8

Duat — Essay 2, Essay 8

dwarf — Essay 25

dynasty — Essay 1

earth — Essay 2

Ebers Papyrus — Essay 24

Edwin Smith Papyrus — Essay 24

elephant — 20 n. 9

el-Kab (place) — Essay 24

Eloquent Peasant — Essay 20

emphatic sdm.f — Essay 26

emphatic sdm.n.f — Essay 26

emphatic sentence — 25.1, 26.25, Essay 26

emphatic sentence, subordinated — 25.10

enclitic particle — 15.5

ending, infinitive — 13.3

ending, verbal — 12.8.1, 26.9.2

Ennead — Essay 12

epagomenal days — 9.8

epithet — 20.9

Erman, Adolf — Essay 26

Ethiopic — 1.1

Euphrates — Essay 21

evolution — Essay 12

existence, statement of — 11.4, 18.9, 18.16

Exodus — Essay 20

extension — 12.9.2

falcon — Essay 12

false door — Essay 8

Fayum (place) — 2.4, Essay 2, Essay 20, Essay 25

Feather of Maat — Essay 10

festival — Essay 5

finite — 13.1

First Future — 14.1

First Intermediate Period — Essay 1, Essay 19, Essay 21, Essay 22

First Present — 14.1

foreigners — Essay 3

fractions — 9.6–7

French — 2.4, 17 n. 11, Essay 18

funerary texts — Essay 22

future — 14.2, 18.7, 18.9–11, 18.13–14, 19.6, 19.11–12, 19.16, 22.14, 23.10, 23.13

Gaelic — 10 n. 2

Gardiner, Alan H. — Essay 26

Geb (god) — Essay 2, Essay 4, Essay 12

geminated stem — 12.4.2

gemination — 18.2, 18.9, 21.6, 22.13, 23.4, 24.1, Essay 26

gender — 4.4, 6.2, 15.1, 22.2, 22.12, 23.2, 23.11, 23.13, 24.1

gender of the infinitive — 13.8

genitive, direct — 4.13.1, 5.9, 7.6, 7.9, 13.4.2, 13.5.1, 13.7, 21.10

genitive, indirect — 4.13.2, 7.6, 7.9, 13.4.2, 13.8, 13.10, 21.10

German — 2.4, 2.6, 17 n. 11, Essay 18

given information — 25.2

gloss — Essay 22

gnomic — 7.16.1, 11.3, 14.2, 18.5–6, 18.13, 19.6, 23.7, 24.4

gods — Essay 3–5

Gold Falcon name — Essay 6

graffiti — Essay 21

Greek — 1.4, 1.10–11, 2.1, 2.7

Greek philosophy — Essay 14

group writing — Essay 17

Hamito-Semitic — 1.1

Hapi (god) — Essay 8

Harakhti (god) — Essay 12

Hardjedef — Essay 19

Haremhab (pharaoh) — Essay 1, Essay 16, 22 n. 16

Harkhuf — Essay 25

harmony — Essay 10

Harper's Song — Essay 23

harpist — Essay 23

Hathor (goddess) — Essay 4

Hatnub (place) — 20 n. 1, Essay 21

Hatshepsut (pharaoh) — 2.7, 17.7, 21.12

headings — 13.9, 13.14.1, 21.13

heart — Essay 7–8, Essay 13–14

Hebrew — 1.1, 2.1, 2.4

Heh (god) — 2.7

Heliopolis (place) — Essay 12, 18 n. 8

Heqanakht Papyri — Essay 25

heqat — 9.7.4

Herakleopolis (place) — Essay 1, Essay 20

herdsman — Essay 20

Hermopolis (place) — Essay 11, Essay 15

Herodotus — Essay 4

hieratic — 1.9–10, 1.12, 3.5, 9 n. 1

hieroglyphic — 1.4, 1.8, 1.12

hieroglyphs — 1.4

hieroglyphs, cursive — 1.9

hieroglyphs, inscriptions — 1.8

high priest — Essay 5

hin — 9.7.4

historical texts — Essay 21

Hittites — Essay 1, Essay 21

honorific transposition — 4.15

Horapollo — 1.12

Horus (god) — Essay 4, Essay 8, Essay 12, Essay 22

Horus name — Essay 6

Horus’s Eye — Essay 22

hour — 9.8

ḥtp-dj-nswt formula — 22.25

Hu (god) — Essay 13

Huh and Hauhet (gods) — Essay 11

Hyksos — Essay 1, Essay 21

hymn — Essay 23

Hymn to the Inundation — Essay 23

identity, statement of — 10.6, 11.2

ideogram — 1.5, 1.12, 3.3, 3.5.1

Illahun Papyri — Essay 25

illness — Essay 24

Imhotep — Essay 18

immanent — Essay 15–16

imperative — 15.1, 15.7.2, 16.6, 18.8, 20.13, 21.8, 26.8.3

imperfect — 12.9.2, 14.2, 18.6

imperfective — 12.9.2, 22.14, 23.4, Essay 26

imperfective sdm.f — Essay 26

Imseti (god) — Essay 8

inalienable relationships — 7.7

indicative — 12.9.3

indicative sdm.f — Essay 26

infinitival — 13.1, 26.8

infinitive — 13.2

infinitive omitted in pseudo-verbal predicate — 14.7

inflection — 12.3

Instruction of a Man for His Son — Essay 19

instructions — Essay 19

Intef (pharaoh) — Essay 23

interjection — 15.5

interrogatives as adverbial predicate — 10.10

intransitive — 12.2, 17.3, 18.4, 24.7

Inundation — 9.8, Essay 11

Ipuwer, Admonitions of — Essay 19

Isesi (pharaoh) — 2.7, Essay 25

Isis (goddess) — Essay 4, Essay 12

Islam — Essay 1, Essay 15

Judaism — Essay 15

judgment — Essay 8, Essay 10, Essay 22

ka — Essay 7

Kagemni — Essay 19

Kaires — Essay 18–19

Karnak (place) — Essay 5, Essay 15–16, 20 n. 17, Essay 21, Essay 24

Karnak Juridical Papyrus — Essay 24

Kemit — Essay 25

Khakheperre-seneb — Essay 18–19

Khepri (god) — Essay 12

Khety — Essay 18–19, Essay 23

Khety (Pharaoh) — Essay 20

Khonsu (god) — Essay 5

Khufu (pharaoh) — Essay 20

king — Essay 4, Essay 10

king’s names — Essay 6

kingship — Essay 4

Kircher, Athanasius — 1.12

Kiya — Essay 16

Kuk and Kauket (gods) — Essay 11

Late Egyptian — 1.2, Essay 16, Essay 20, Essay 24, Essay 26

Late Period — Essay 1

Latin — 2.1

law — Essay 10

Lebanon — 22 n. 10

legal texts — Essay 24

letter — Essay 18, Essay 25

Letters to the Dead — Essay 25

lexicon — 12.3

library — Essay 5

Libya (place) — Essay 1, Essay 20–21

Lisht (place) — Essay 1

literacy — Essay 25

literature — Essay 18

Lower Egypt — Essay 2

Loyalist Instruction — Essay 19

lph — 20.9.2

Luxor (place) — Essay 5

Maat — 2.7, Essay 4, Essay 8, Essay 10, Essay 13, Essay 18–21

magic — Essay 4, Essay 13, Essay 24

mail — Essay 25

main clause — 20.1

Manetho — Essay 1

Marc Antony — Essay 1

marked — 11.3, 20.2

marriage — Essay 3

masturbation (metaphor) — Essay 12

mathematical texts — Essay 24

medical texts — Essay 24

medicine — Essay 24

Mediterranean — Essay 2

Medjay — 25 n. 2

Memphis (place) — 2.7, Essay 2, Essay 13–16

Memphite Theology — Essay 14–15

Menes (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Mentuhotep II (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Merikare (pharaoh) — Essay 19

Meritaten — Essay 16

Mesopotamia — 1.4, Essay 10, Essay 21

metaphor — Essay 18

Middle Egyptian — 1.2, 1.8, Essay 1, Essay 26

Middle Kingdom — Essay 1

military campaign — Essay 21

Milky Way — Essay 2

monotheism — Essay 15–16

month names — 9.10

mood — 12.9.3, 26.11

Moses — Essay 20

Mouth-Opening Ritual — Essay 8, Essay 22

mummification — Essay 7–8

Mut (goddess) — Essay 5, Essay 16

mutilated hieroglyphs — Essay 22

name — 4.4, 4.9, 4.11, 4.15, 7.8, Essay 7, 16.10, 24.6

Narmer (pharaoh) — Essay 1

narrative infinitive — 13.14

Naunet (goddess) — Essay 2, Essay 11

Nebirierau (pharaoh) — Essay 24

necessity — 15.6.13, 17.11, 18.11, 19.7, 19.11

Nectanebo II (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Neferneferuaten (pharaoh) — Essay 16

Neferti — Essay 18–19

Nefertiti — Essay 16

Nefertum (god) — Essay 11

negation — 26.26

negation of adjectival sentence — 11.6

negation of adverbial sentence — 11.4

negation of emphatic sentence — 25.11

negation of existence — 11.4

negation of imperative — 15.4

negation of infinitive — 13.16

negation of nominal sentence — 11.5

negation of noun clauses — 21.5, 21.14

negation of participle — 23.14, 24.8

negation of pseudo-verbal predicate — 14.8

negation of relative clauses — 22.8

negation of relative forms — 22.23

negation of passive sdm.f — 19.7

negation of sdm.f — 18.13–14, 18.16, 20.16, 21.14, 22.23, 25.11

negation of sdm.n.f — 17.11, 22.23, 25.11

negation of subject-stative construction — 16.12

negation of word — 11.7

negatival complement — 13.16, 15.4, 21.14, 22.23, 23.14, 24.8, 25.11

Nephthys (goddess) — 2.7, Essay 12

Nepri (god) — 23 n. 12

Netherlands National Museum — Essay 15

Netherword Guides — Essay 22

new information — 25.2

New Kingdom — Essay 1

night — 9.8

night-boat — Essay 2

Nile — Essay 2

Nile Valley — Essay 2

nisbe — 6.1, 8.6–8, 22.2, 22.5, 22.8, 23.13

nisbe, reverse — 8.9

nomarch — Essay 3

nome — Essay 2

nomen — Essay 6

nominal predicate — 7.5, 7.15, 11.2, 21.12, 23.9, 26.15

non-attributive relative form — Essay 26

non-finite — 13.1

non-verbal predicate — 7.1, 11.1, 26.15

noun — 4.1, 26.3

noun clause — 21.1, 26.22

noun of agent — 23.3–4

noun phrase — 4.10

Nu, Nun (god) — Essay 2, Essay 11–12

Nubia — Essay 1–2, Essay 21, Essay 24–25

Nubians — Essay 3

number — 4.5

number, cardinal — 9.2

number, ordinal — 9.3

numeral — 9.1

Nut (goddess) — Essay 2, Essay 4, Essay 12

oasis — Essay 2, Essay 18

oath — 25.8.2

object — 13.5, 15.3, 17.4, 23.6

Octavian — Essay 1

offering list — Essay 22

Offering Ritual — Essay 22

offerings — Essay 7

Ogdoad — Essay 11, Essay 15

oipe — 9.7.4

Old Egyptian — 1.2, 2.1, 2.8.4, 12.5.8–9, 15.2.1, 15.6.8,–9, 15.7.4, 16.2, 16.5, 18.2, 18.4, 18.13, 19.1, 21.5, 23.13, 24.2, 26.26.3–5, Essay 26

Old Kingdom — Essay 1

old perfective — 16.1

Opet Feast — Essay 5

oracle — Essay 5

Osiris — 2.7, Essay 4–5, Essay 8, Essay 12, Essay 21, 22.25.2, Essay 22

ostracon — Essay 19, Essay 25

papyrus — Essay 25

paradigm — 12.5

parenthetic — 19.17

participial statement — 23.10–11, 25.3

participle — 18.9, 23.1

participle, active — 23.1

participle, passive — 24.1

particle — 10.3, 15.5, 26.7

passive — 12.9.4, 14.5, 16.1, 17.6, 18.1, 18.3, 19.1–2, 22.10, 24.1, 26.4, 26.12

passive relative — 22.10

passive sdm.f — 19.1–8, 20.14, 24.6, 26.12, 26.18.1, 26.26.1, Essay 26

past/perfect — 12.9.1–2, 16.5, 17.3, 17.7, 18.4, 18.13, 19.4–5, 19.10, 22.14, 23.7, 24.4

peace treaty — Essay 1, Essay 21

Pepi (pharaoh) — 2.7

Pepi II (pharaoh) — Essay 25

perception — Essay 13–14

perfect — 12.9.1–2, 16.5, 16.8, 17.1, 17.7, 17.9, 18.13, 22.14, 23.7, 24.4

perfective — 12.9.2, 22.14, 23.4, Essay 26

perfective sdm.f — Essay 26

Persians — Essay 1

person — 5.1

pharaoh — Essay 3

phonetic complement — 3.2

phonogram — 1.5, 1.12, 3.3, 3.5

phonology — Essay 17

plural — 4.5–6

poem — Essay 18

poetry — Essay 23

Polotsky, Hans Jakob — Essay 26

possession — 4.13, 5.7, 5.11, 6.9, 10.7, 11.4, 11.9

posterior circumstance — 20.13

prayer — Essay 5, Essay 23

predicate — 7.1, 7.12, 25.1, 26.15

predicate question — 17.12, 26.25

Predynastic Period — Essay 1

prefix — 12.8, 15.2.1, 18.2, 23..5, 26.9

prenomen — Essay 6

preposition — 8.1, 26.6

present — 12.9.1, 14.2, 16.4, 17.11, 18.5, 18.13, 19.6–7

priest — Essay 5

primeval mound — Essay 11

prior circumstance — 20.10, 20.14

procession — Essay 5

proclitic particle — 15.5

progressive — 12.9.2, 14.2,

pronoun — 5.1, 26.4

pronoun, demonstrative — 5.1, 5.8–10, 7.3, 7.6, 7.9, 9.4

pronoun, dependent — 5.2, 5.4, 5.6, 7.3, 7.8, 7.12, 7.13, 10.4–5, 13.5, 13.7, 14.4–5, 15.3, 15.6.7, 17.4–5, 19.18, 21.4, 22.7, 24.6, 26.4

pronoun, independent — 5.2, 5.5–6, 7.6, 7.8–9, 7.12–14, 10.5, 13.4, 22.7, 23.10–11, 26.4

pronoun, interrogative — 5.1, 5.12, 7.13, 23.10, 25.5

pronoun, personal — 5.1–2

pronoun, possessive — 5.11

pronoun, subject — 14.4

pronoun, suffix — 5.2–3, 5.7, 5.11, 6.3–4, 6.7, 8.4, 8.7, 8.10, 8.14, 10.3, 10.4.1, 10.5, 10.7, 11.4, 13.4–7, 13.14.3, 13.18, 14.4, 14.6, 15.6.7, 15.7.2, 15.8.2, 16.2, 16.7–8, 17.1, 21.4, 22.7, 23.13

pronunciation — 2.6

prospective sdm.f — Essay 26

protasis — 18.12

pseudo-participle — 16.1

pseudo-verbal predicate — 14.1, 18.6–7, 18.9, 18.14, 20.3–4, 20.6–7, 20.15, 22.2, 22.9–10, 25.12

Ptah (god) — Essay 4, Essay 13–16, 23 n. 11

Ptahemdjehuti — Essay 18

Ptahhotep — Essay 18–19

Ptolemaic period — Essay 1

Ptolemy I (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Ptolemy III (pharaoh) — Essay 9

Ptolemy V (pharaoh) — 1.10, 1.12

pun — Essay 12, Essay 18, Essay 22–23

purpose — 13.11.3

purpose clause — 20.13, 20.16

Pyramid Texts — Essay 22

pyramids — Essay 1

Qadesh — Essay 21

Qebehsenuef — Essay 8

qite — 9.7.3

qualitative — 16.1

queen — Essay 3, Essay 16, Essay 20

question — 7.13, 10.10, 11.11, 14.9, 16.11, 17.12, 18.16, 19.8, 22.22, 25.5, 25.13.2

Ra (god) — see Re

radical — 12.4

Ramesses (pharaoh) — 1.12, Essay 1

Ramesses II (pharaoh) — Essay 1, Essays 14–15, Essay 21, 22.24

Ramesses XI (pharaoh) — Essay 1

Ramesside Period — Essay 1

rdj sdm.f construction — 21.8, Essay 26

Re (god) — Essay 2, Essay 4, Essay 6, Essay 12, Essay 15

Re-Atum (god) — Essay 12

rebus — 1.5, 3.1

reflexive — 12.2

register — Essay 18

regnal year — 9.9

Re-Harakhti (god) — Essay 4, Essay 12, Essay 16

Reisner Papyri — Essay 24

relative adjective — 22.2

relative clause — 22.1, 26.23

relative clause, direct — 21.1, 22.3, 22.8, 22.11, 22.13, 23.1

relative clause, indirect — 21.1, 22.6–7, 22.13

relative sdm.f — 22.13

relative sdm.n.f — 22.12

religion — Essay 4

religious texts — Essay 22

result clause — 20.13, 20.16

resumptive — 20.9

Resurrection Ritual — Essay 22

retrograde — 1.6

rheme — 25.2

rhematic adverb — 27.6

rhematic adverb clause — 25.7

rhematic interrogative — 25.5, 25.13

rhematic prepositional phrase — 25.6

Rhind Mathematical Papyrus — Essay 24

ring — 9.7.3

Romans — Essay 1

root — 4.2–3, 12.4

root classes — 12.5

Rosetta Stone — 1.10, 1.12

sack — 9.7.4

Saidic — 1.3

Sais (place) — Essay 1

Saite Period — Essay 1

sanctuary — Essay 5

scale — Essay 8

schoenus — 9 n. 3

sdm pw jr.n.f construction — 13.14.3, 22.24

sdm.f — 18.1, 20.11–13, 21.6–14, 22.8, 22.13–16, 25.4, Essay 26; see also SUBJECT–sdm.f

sdm.hr.f — 19.11

sdm.jn.f — 19.10

sdm.k.f — 19.12

sdm.n.f — 17.1, 20.10, 21.7, 22.8, 22.12, 25.13

sdmt.f — 19.13–16, 23.13

sdmtj.fj — 23.13

sdmw.f — Essay 26

season — 9.8

Second Intermediate Period — Essay 1, Essay 19, Essay 21

Second Tense — Essay 26

Sekhemkhet (pharaoh) — 2.7

Sekhmet (goddess) — Essay 4

Semitic — Essay 26

Semna Dispatches — Essay 25

sentence — 7.1, 7.17, 20.1, 26.25

Senwosret (pharaoh) — 2.7

Senwosret I (pharaoh) — Essay 20

Senwosret II (pharaoh) — Essay 19

Senwosret III (pharaoh) — Essay 23

serekh — Essay 6

serpent — Essay 20

Sesostris — 2.7

Seth (god) — Essay 12, Essay 4

Shabaka (pharaoh) — Essay 14

shadow — Essay 7

Shakespeare — Essay 18

Shipwrecked Sailor — Essay 20

Shu (god) — Essay 2, Essay 4–5, Essay 12, Essay 16

Sia (god) — Essay 13

signs, biliteral — 3.1

signs, groups — 1.7

signs, shapes — 1.7

signs, triliteral — 3.4

signs, uniliteral — 2.1, 2.3

Sinuhe — Essay 20

Sirius — Essay 9

sistrum — Essay 5

sky — Essay 2

Smenkhkare (pharaoh) — Essay 16

society — Essay 3, Essay 10, Essay 18

Sokar (god) — Essay 14

Son of Re name — Essay 6

song — Essay 23

sons of Horus (gods) — Essay 8

Sothis — Essay 9

sound changes — 2.8.4, Essay 17

Sound Eye — 9.7.4

sounds — 2.4

Spanish — 2.4

spitting (metaphor) — Essay 12

Standard Theory — Essay 26

stative — 16.1, 17.3, 18.8, 20.8–9, 22.11, 26.8; see also SUBJECT–stative

stative suffixes — 16.2

stela — 1.8, Essay 21

stem — 12.4, 26.9

story — Essay 18, Essay 20

stroke — 3.3

subject — 7.1, 7.3, 7.12, 10.5, 13.4, 13.18, 14.4–5, 15.3, 16.7, 17.4, 19.3

subject, omitted — 10.9, 11.10, 17.5, 19.3, 22.7

subject, preposed — 17.4, 17 n. 16

SUBJECT-sdm.f — 18.6, 18.9, 18.11, 20.4, 20.11–12, 22.1, 22.16, 26.14–15, 26.17–18, 26.22–23, Essay 26

SUBJECT-stative — 16.7–8, 16.10–12, 18.4, 18.7, 18.9, 19.10–11, 20.3, 20.8, 21.6, 21.12, 22.11, 22.13, 26.15, 26.17–18, 26.22–23, Essay 26

subjunctive — 12.9.3, 18.7–8, 18.10, 20.13

subjunctive sdm.f — Essay 26

subordinate clause — 20.1

subordinate clause, initial — 25.8

suffix conjugation — 17.1, 26.8

suffix, verbal — 12.8, 17.2, 19.9, 26.9

Sun — Essay 12

superlative — 6.8, 8.17

syllable — Essay 17, 18.9, 18 n. 10

syncretism — Essay 4

syntax — 20.1

synthetic — 12.3

Syria — Essay 20

talatat — Essay 16

Tatenen (god) — Essay 11, Essay 14–15

Tefnut (goddess) — Essay 12

temple — Essay 5, Essay 10, Essay 16

tense — 7.16, 11.3, 12.9.1, 14.2, 16.4, 17.1, 17.3, 18.1, 19.4, 19.10–11, 22.14, 23.1, 24.4, 26.13

tercet — Essay 23

Thebes (place) — Essay 1, Essay 6, Essays 15–16, Essay 24–25

theme — 25.2

Thinite nome (place) — Essay 25

Third Future — 14.1

Third Intermediate Period — Essay 1

Thoth (god) — Essay 4

thought couplet — Essay 18, Essay 20, Essay 23

throne name — Essay 6

Thutmose I (pharaoh) — 20 n. 5

Thutmose III (pharaoh) — Essay 5, Essay 21

titles — Essay 3

Tiya — Essay 16

Tjenenet (place) — 2.7

tomb — Essay 7, Essay 8

tomb biography — Essay 18, Essay 21

tomb robbery papyri — Essay 24

tongue — Essay 14

topicalization — 17.4

transcendent — Essay 15

transcription — 1.10, 2.2–3, 3.6–7

transitive — 12.2, 17.3, 25.13.2

Trinity — Essay 15

Tutankhamun (pharaoh) — Essay 1, Essay 16, Essay 21

Two Ladies name — Essay 6

Two Lands — Essay 2

undefined — 4.9

unification — Essay 1, Essay 14

Unis (pharaoh) — 2.7

universe — Essay 2

unmarked — 11.3, 20.2

Upper Egypt — Essay 2

Usertesen — 2.7

verb — 12.1, 26.8

verb of motion — 12.2

verbal noun — 13.1

verbal predicate — 26.15

virtual clause — 20.2

vizier — Essay 3

vocalization — 2.7

vocative — 5.10, 15.3, 15.8, 22.16

voice — 12.9.4, 26.12

Wadi Hammamat (place) — Essay 21

Wadi Natrun (place) — Essay 20

week — 9.8

weights and measures — 9.7

Wepwawet (god) — 22.25.2

Westcar papyrus — Essay 20

wisdom literature — Essay 19

wish — 10.2, 15.6.12, 16.6, 18.8, 18.11, 18.15, 20.9.2

women — Essay 3

word order — 5.9, 6.3, 10.2, 13.6, 15.3, 17.4, 19.3, 22.18, 23.6

world view — Essay 2

writing — 2.8, Essay 17

writing, abbreviations — 2.8.1

writing, direction — 1.6

writing, doubled consonants — 2.8.2, 9 n. 2, 13.3.2, 16.3, 18.9

writing, early — 1.2, 1.4

writing, spelling — 1.5, 2.1, 3.6, Essay 17

writing, weak consonants — 2.8.3

year — 9.8

yod — 2.3

Young, Thomas — 1.12

(particle) — 15.7.1, 17.8

bw “Aswan” — Essay 2

ḫj “akh” — Essay 8

ḫw “effectiveness” — Essay 13

ḫt “Akhet” — Essay 2

ḫt “Inundation season” — 9.8

ḫtj “of the Akhet” — 12 n. 3

krw “earth gods” — 19 n. 5

j “oh!” — 15.8.1

jjw “praise” — Essay 23

jbt “left, east” — Essay 2

jjj “come, return” — 12.6.2

jw (particle) — 10.3, 15.6.1, 18.16, 25.13.2

jw-ms “exaggeration” — 15.7.7

jwt (negation) — 21.5, 26.26

jwt “come” — 18.2, 18.10

jwtj (relative adjective) — 22.8, 26.26

jwtj-n.f “have-not” — 22.8

jwtj-sw “have-not” — 22.8

jb “heart, mind” — Essay 7

jbd “month” — 9.8

jpt “oipe” — 9.7

jpt-jswt “Karnak” — 20 n. 17

jmḫ “worth” — Essay 21

jmj “give!” — 15.2

jmj “not be, not do” — 12.7, 18.15, 26.26

jmj-r “overseer” — Essay 3, 8.9

jmj-r šnt “sheriff” — 19 n. 6

jmjtw “between, among” — 8.2.1

jmn-r “Amun-Re” — Essay 15

jmnw “Amun” — Essay 15

jmnw-rn.f “he whose identity is hidden” — Essay 15

jmnt “right, west” — Essay 2

jmstj “Imseti” — Essay 8

jmt-pr “will” — 8.9

jn (particle) — 11.11.2, 15.6.2, 17.12, 18.16, 23.10

jn “by” — 8.2.2

jn “say” — 19.18

jnj “get, fetch” — 17.2, 18.2, 18.10

j.nd-ḥr “greetings!” — 15.8.2

jr “as for” — 17.4

jr “if” — 18.12, 18.15

jr.f, r.f “so” — 15.7.2

jr.n “begotten of” — 22.24

jrj-pt “member of the elite” — Essay 3

jḫ (particle) — 15.6.3, 18.11, 18.15

jzft “wrong” — Essay 10

js (particle) — 11.5, 15.7.3, 20.5, 21.3–4, 25.10

jsjr “Osiris” — Essay 12

jst “Isis” — Essay 12

jst “action” — 20 n. 13

jsw “behold” — 15.6.4

jst (particle) — 15.6.5, 20.3

jsr “Osiris” — 22 n. 9

jšst “what?” — 7.13.3

jtj “father” — 7 n. 1

jty “sire” — Essay 6

jtmw “Atum” — Essay 12

jtn “solar disk” — Essay 16

jtrw “river” — Essay 2, 9.7.1

nḫ “oath” — 3.4, 25 n. 7

nḫ-wd-snb “lph” — 20.9.2

ḥ.n “then” — 14.6, 17.9, 25.13.2

qw “close friend” — 20 n. 20

rqy “last day of the month” — 9.8

w (negation) — 15.7.4, 26.26

wd-wr “sea” — Essay 2, 20 n. 7

wb “priest” — Essay 5

wpt-rnpt “New Year’s Day” — 9.8

wn.ḫr “then” — 14.6

wn.jn “then” — 14.6, 17.9, 25.13.2

wnt (particle) — 15.6.6, 21.4

wnt (sdmt.f) — 19.15

wnn “exist” — 18.7, 18.9, 19.10–11, 19.15, 22.21, 23.12, 25.12

wnnt “really” — 15.7.5

wnwt “hour” — 9.8

wr “king” — Essay 6

wr ḥrp ḥmwt (high priest of Memphis) — Essay 14

wrt “very” — 7.4, 8.14

wḥt “oasis” — Essay 2

wḫ “fool” — Essay 19

b “ba” — Essay 7

bw “impressiveness” — Essay 7

bk jm “your humble servant” — Essay 25

bw dw “evil” — 21 n. 16

pt “sky” — Essay 2

p “once do” — 18.13, 22.21, 23.12

p-ym “Fayum” — Essay 2

pw in nominal sentences — 7.9

pr- “pharaoh” — Essay 3, Essay 6

prt “Growing season” — 9.8

prt-ḫrw “invocation offering” — 22.25.3

psdntjw “new-moon” — 9.10

psdt “Ennead” — Essay 12

ptr “who?, what?” — 7.13

m “in” — 8.2.3

m of predication — 10.6

m plus infinitive — 13.11.2, 14.1

m-bj “no!” — 15.8.3

m ḫd “downstream” — 13 n. 1

m-hnw “inside” — 3.6

m “don’t” — 15.4

m “take!” — 15.2.4

m.k (mj.k) “look” — 7 n. 2, 10.4.1, 14.3, 15 n. 1, 15.6.7, 25.13.2

m-ḫrw “justified” — Essay 8

mt “Maat” — Essay 10

mj “come!” — 15.2.2

mj “like” — 8.2.4

mj qj “entire” — 6.7

mj qd “entire” — 6.7

mjtt “as well” — 15 n. 11

mj “now, please” — 15.7.6

mj “who?, what?” — 7.13

mjwt “mother” — 3 n. 2

mfkt “turquoise” — 21 n. 10

mm “among, amidst” — 8.2.5

mn “suffer” — 22 n. 1

mry “beloved of” — 22.24

mḥ “cubit” — 9.7.1

mḥ-t “centaroura” — 9.7.2

mḥw “Delta” — Essay 2

ms “surely, indeed” — 15.7.7

ms.n “born of” — 22.24

msqt-sḥdw — Essay 2

mdt nfrt “fine speech” — Essay 18

mdw-ntr “hieroglyphic writing” — 1.4, 4.15, Essay 14

mddjnt “fifteenth lunar day” — 9.10

n “to, for” — 8.2.6

nj (negation) — 11.5, 11.7, 15.6.8, 17.11, 18.13, 19.7, 19.14–15, 26.26

nj … js (negation) — 11.5, 23.10, 25.11, 26.26.1

nj for jn (particle) — 11.11

nj js (negation) — 11.7

nj p (negation) — 18.13

nj zp (negation) — 18.13

nw “Nu” — Essay 2

nwt “Nut” — Essay 2, Essay 12

nb ḫw “lord of appearances” — Essay 6

nb nswt twj “lord of the Two Lands’ thrones” — Essay 15

nb-r-dr “Lord to the Limit” — Essay 12

nb twj “lord of the Two Lands” — Essay 6

nb-tm “Lord of Totality” — Essay 12

nbt-pr “mistress of the house” — Essay 3

nbt-ḥwt “Nephthys” — Essay 12

nbw “gold” — Essay 2

nfr (negation) — 15.6.9, 26.26

nfr jb “relaxation” — 17 n. 8

nfr ḥr construction — 6.5

nfrw “depletion, zero” — 9.1, 15.6.9

nn (negation) — 10.4.2, 11.4–6, 13.15, 14.8, 15.6.8, 17.11, 18.14, 26.26

nn … js (negation) — 11.5

nn wn (negation) — 18.14

nn zp (negation) — 18.14

nnw “Nun” — Essay 2

nnwt “Naunet” — Essay 2

nhj “some” — 6.7

nḥmn “surely, really” — 10.4.3, 15.6.10

nḥḥ “eternity” — Essay 10

nswt “king” — Essay 3, 6.9, Essay 6

nswt-bjt “Dual King” — Essay 6

nswt-ntrw “king of the gods” — Essay 15

nswtyw “royal tenants” — 24 n. 3

ntj (relative adjective) — 22.2

ntt (particle) — 15.6.11, 21.4, 22.2

ntt jwtt “everything imaginable” — 22.8

ntr “god” — Essay 19

ntr nfr “young god” — Essay 6

r, loss of — 2.8.4, Essay 17

r “with respect to” — 8.2.7

r.f — see jr.f

r plus infinitive — 13.11.3

r w “entire” — 6.7

rdr “entire” — 6.7

r-jb “stomach” — 22 n. 4

r-pdwt “archery” — 20 n. 15

r-dw “opposition” — 20 n. 15

r “sun, Re/Ra” — Essay 2, Essay 12

r-jtmw “Re-Atum” — Essay 12

rn “name, identity” — Essay 7

rnpt “year” — 9.8

rnpt-ḥsb “regnal year” — 9.9

rḫ “know” — 16.5, 17.10, 22.14

rḫ “knowledgeable man” — Essay 19

rḫyt “subjects” — Essay 3

rsw “south” — Essay 2

rswj jnb.f “he who is south of his wall” — Essay 14

rdj “give, put, cause” — 12.6.1

h “oh!” — 15.8.4

hnw “hin” — 9.7.4

hrw “daytime” — 9.8

ḥ (particle) — 10.4.4, 15.6.12, 17.8, 18.11

ḥ “behind, around” — 8.2.8

ḥtj “heart” — Essay 7

ḥtj- “high official” — Essay 3

ḥ, ḥw “body” — Essay 7

ḥw “annunciation” — Essay 13

ḥwt-t “Great Enclosure” — 18 n. 8

ḥwt-ḥrw “Hathor” — 3.6

ḥpy “Hapi” — Essay 8

ḥm “and, also” — 15.7.8

ḥm “Incarnation” — Essay 3, Essay 6

ḥm-ntr “priest” — Essay 5

ḥn “with” — 8.2.9

ḥḥ “million” — 9.1

ḥr “on” — 8.2.10

ḥr plus infinitive — 13.11.1

ḥrj-jb “resident in” — 20 n. 17

ḥrjw-rnpt “epagomenal days” — 9.8

ḥrw “Horus” — Essay 12

ḥrw-ḫtj “Harakhti” — Essay 12

ḥq “ruler” — Essay 6

ḥqt “heqat” — 9.7.4

ḥk “magic” — Essay 13

ḫ-t “decaroura” — 9.7.2

ḫst “desert” — Essay 2

ḫpr ds.f “he who evolved on his own” — Essay 12

ḫprj “Khepri” — Essay 12

ḫft “opposite” — 8.2.11

ḫm “not know” — 22.14

ḫmnw “Hermopolis” — Essay 11

ḫnt “at the head of” — 8.2.12

ḫntj “go forward” — 17 n. 1

ḫr (particle) — 15.6.13, 18.11

ḫr “near” — 8.2.13, Essay 21

ḫr “say” — 19.18

ḫsf “punish” — 25 n. 9

ḫt “rod” — 9.7.1

ḫt “throughout” — 8.2.14

ḫtmtj-bjt “royal sealer” — Essay 3

hyt “pile of corpses” — 20 n. 14

hr “sack” — 9.7.4

hn-nḫn “South” — 22 n. 3

hr “under” — 8.2.15

z t “homage” — 25 n. 8

zy “which?” — 7.13.4

zp 2 “twice” — 9.5

znj mnt “distress” — 18 n. 11

st “it” — 5.4, 22.7

sj “perception” — Essay 13

sjsnt “sixth lunar day” — 9.10

sw “day of the month” — 9.8

swt “but” — 15.7.9

swd jb “communication” — Essay 25

spt “nome” — Essay 2

spdt “Sothis” — Essay 9

sbyt “instruction” — Essay 19

smr-wtj “courtier” — Essay 3

smwn “perhaps” — 15.6.14

snt “sister” — Essay 3

sth “Seth” — Essay 12

stt “aroura” — 9.7.2

šw “Shu” — Essay 2, Essay 12

šwt “shadow” — Essay 7

šmw “Nile Valley” — Essay 2

šmw “Harvest season” — 9.8

šntj “ring” — 9.7.3

šzp “palm” — 9.7.1

qbḥ-snw.f “Qebehsenuef” — Essay 8

qdt “qite” — 9.7.3

k (particle) — 15.6.15, 18.11

k “say” — 19.18

k “ka” — Essay 7

kw “energy” — Essay 7

ky “other” — 6.7

gbb “Geb” — Essay 2, Essay 12

gr “still man” — Essay 19

grt “now, moreover, but” — 15.7.10

grḥ “night” — 9.8

t, loss of — 2.8.4, Essay 17

t “land, earth” — Essay 2

t-mr “canal-land” — Essay 2

t-tmw “everyone” — 15 n. 3

twj “Two Lands” — Essay 2

tj (particle) — 15.6.16, 20.4

tjw “yes!” — 15.8.5

tjt “image” — Essay 14

tw (pronoun) — 14.5

tw “One” — 14.5

tw (suffix) — 17.6, 17.11, 18.3, 22.20

tfnt “Tefnut” — Essay 12

tm “fail to do” — 13.16, 18.15, 20.16, 21.14, 22.23, 23.14, 24.8, 25.11, 26.26

tr (particle) — 11.11.2, 15.7.11

tr “season” — 9.8

ttj “vizier” — Essay 3

tnw “each” — 6.7

dj nḫ “given life” — 24.6

dj.n.j n.k (formula) — 17.7

dw “worship” — Essay 23

dw-mjwt.f “Duamutef” — Essay 8

dwt “Duat” — Essay 2

dbn “deben” — 9.7.3

dp “atop” — 8.2.16

dšrt “redland” — Essay 2

dt “eternity” — Essay 10

db “finger” — 9.7.1

dbw “reproach” — 18 n 21

dr “since, before” — 8.2.17

ds “self” — 8.14

dd.f “who says” — 22.16

dd-mdw “recitation” — 13.9, Essay 22