CHAPTER I.

Produced by David Widger

AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS, Complete

By Georg Ebers

Translated from the German by Eleanor Grove

PREFACE TO THE SECOND GERMAN EDITION

Aut prodesse volunt ant delectare poetae,

Aut simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae.

Horat. De arte poetica v. 333.

It is now four years since this book first appeared before the public,

and I feel it my duty not to let a second edition go forth into the

world without a few words of accompaniment. It hardly seems necessary to

assure my readers that I have endeavored to earn for the following pages

the title of a "corrected edition." An author is the father of his book,

and what father could see his child preparing to set out on a new

and dangerous road, even if it were not for the first time, without

endeavoring to supply him with every good that it lay in his power to

bestow, and to free him from every fault or infirmity on which the world

could look unfavorably? The assurance therefore that I have repeatedly

bestowed the greatest possible care on the correction of my Egyptian

Princess seems to me superfluous, but at the same time I think it

advisable to mention briefly where and in what manner I have found

it necessary to make these emendations. The notes have been revised,

altered, and enriched with all those results of antiquarian research

(more especially in reference to the language and monuments of ancient

Egypt) which have come to our knowledge since the year 1864, and which

my limited space allowed me to lay before a general public. On the

alteration of the text itself I entered with caution, almost with

timidity; for during four years of constant effort as academical tutor,

investigator and writer in those severe regions of study which exclude

the free exercise of imagination, the poetical side of a man's nature

may forfeit much to the critical; and thus, by attempting to remodel my

tale entirely, I might have incurred the danger of removing it from the

more genial sphere of literary work to which it properly belongs. I have

therefore contented myself with a careful revision of the style, the

omission of lengthy passages which might have diminished the interest of

the story to general readers, the insertion of a few characteristic or

explanatory additions, and the alteration of the proper names. These

last I have written not in their Greek, but in their Latin forms, having

been assured by more than one fair reader that the names Ibykus and

Cyrus would have been greeted by them as old acquaintances, whereas the

"Ibykos" and "Kyros" of the first edition looked so strange and learned,

as to be quite discouraging. Where however the German k has the same

worth as the Roman c I have adopted it in preference. With respect

to the Egyptian names and those with which we have become acquainted

through the cuneiform inscriptions, I have chosen the forms most adapted

to our German modes of speech, and in the present edition have placed

those few explanations which seemed to me indispensable to the right

understanding of the text, at the foot of the page, instead of among the

less easily accessible notes at the end.

The fact that displeasure has been excited among men of letters by this

attempt to clothe the hardly-earned results of severer studies in an

imaginative form is even clearer to me now than when I first sent this

book before the public. In some points I agree with this judgment, but

that the act is kindly received, when a scholar does not scorn to render

the results of his investigations accessible to the largest number of

the educated class, in the form most generally interesting to them, is

proved by the rapid sale of the first large edition of this work. I

know at least of no better means than those I have chosen, by which to

instruct and suggest thought to an extended circle of readers. Those who

read learned books evince in so doing a taste for such studies; but it

may easily chance that the following pages, though taken up only for

amusement, may excite a desire for more information, and even gain a

disciple for the study of ancient history.

Considering our scanty knowledge of the domestic life of the Greeks and

Persians before the Persian war--of Egyptian manners we know more--even

the most severe scholar could scarcely dispense with the assistance

of his imagination, when attempting to describe private life among the

civilized nations of the sixth century before Christ. He would however

escape all danger of those anachronisms to which the author of such a

work as I have undertaken must be hopelessly liable. With attention and

industry, errors of an external character may be avoided, but if I had

chosen to hold myself free from all consideration of the times in which

I and my readers have come into the world, and the modes of thought at

present existing among us, and had attempted to depict nothing but the

purely ancient characteristics of the men and their times, I should have

become unintelligible to many of my readers, uninteresting to all, and

have entirely failed in my original object. My characters will therefore

look like Persians, Egyptians, &c., but in their language, even more

than in their actions, the German narrator will be perceptible, not

always superior to the sentimentality of his day, but a native of the

world in the nineteenth century after the appearance of that heavenly

Master, whose teaching left so deep an impression on human thought and

feeling.

The Persians and Greeks, being by descent related to ourselves,

present fewer difficulties in this respect than the Egyptians, whose

dwelling-place on the fruitful islands won by the Nile from the Desert,

completely isolated them from the rest of the world.

To Professor Lepsius, who suggested to me that a tale confined entirely

to Egypt and the Egyptians might become wearisome, I owe many thanks;

and following his hint, have so arranged the materials supplied by

Herodotus as to introduce my reader first into a Greek circle. Here he

will feel in a measure at home, and indeed will entirely sympathize with

them on one important point, viz.: in their ideas on the Beautiful and

on Art. Through this Hellenic portico he reaches Egypt, from thence

passes on to Persia and returns finally to the Nile. It has been my

desire that the three nations should attract him equally, and I have

therefore not centred the entire interest of the plot in one hero, but

have endeavored to exhibit each nation in its individual character, by

means of a fitting representative. The Egyptian Princess has given

her name to the book, only because the weal and woe of all my other

characters were decided by her fate, and she must therefore be regarded

as the central point of the whole.

In describing Amasis I have followed the excellent description of

Herodotus, which has been confirmed by a picture discovered on an

ancient monument. Herodotus has been my guide too in the leading

features of Cambyses' character; indeed as he was born only forty or

fifty years after the events related, his history forms the basis of my

romance.

"Father of history" though he be, I have not followed him blindly, but,

especially in the development of my characters, have chosen those paths

which the principles of psychology have enabled me to lay down for

myself, and have never omitted consulting those hieroglyphic and

cuneiform inscriptions which have been already deciphered. In most cases

these confirm the statements of Herodotus.

I have caused Bartja's murder to take place after the conquest of Egypt,

because I cannot agree with the usually received translation of the

Behistun inscription. This reads as follows: "One named Cambujiya, son

of Curu, of our family, was king here formerly and had a brother named

Bartiya, of the same father and the same mother as Cambujiya. Thereupon

Cambujiya killed that Bartiya." In a book intended for general readers,

it would not be well to enter into a discussion as to niceties of

language, but even the uninitiated will see that the word "thereupon"

has no sense in this connection. In every other point the inscription

agrees with Herodotus' narrative, and I believe it possible to bring it

into agreement with that of Darius on this last as well; but reserve my

proofs for another time and place.

It has not been ascertained from whence Herodotus has taken the name

Smerdis which he gives to Bartja and Gaumata. The latter occurs again,

though in a mutilated form, in Justin.

My reasons for making Phanes an Athenian will be found in Note 90. Vol.

I. This coercion of an authenticated fact might have been avoided in the

first edition, but could not now be altered without important changes in

the entire text. The means I have adopted in my endeavor to make Nitetis

as young as possible need a more serious apology; as, notwithstanding

Herodotus' account of the mildness of Amasis' rule, it is improbable

that King Hophra should have been alive twenty years after his fall.

Even this however is not impossible, for it can be proved that his

descendants were not persecuted by Amasis.

On a Stela in the Leyden Museum I have discovered that a certain

Psamtik, a member of the fallen dynasty, lived till the 17th year of

Amasis' reign, and died at the age of seventy-five.

Lastly let me be permitted to say a word or two in reference to

Rhodopis. That she must have been a remarkable woman is evident from the

passage in Herodotus quoted in Notes 10, and 14, Vol. I., and from the

accounts given by many other writers. Her name, "the rosy-cheeked one,"

tells us that she was beautiful, and her amiability and charm of manner

are expressly praised by Herodotus. How richly she was endowed with

gifts and graces may be gathered too from the manner in which tradition

and fairy lore have endeavored to render her name immortal. By many she

is said to have built the most beautiful of the Pyramids, the Pyramid of

Mycerinus or Menkera. One tale related of her and reported by Strabo and

AElian probably gave rise to our oldest and most beautiful fairy tale,

Cinderella; another is near akin to the Loreley legend. An eagle,

according to AElian--the wind, in Strabo's tale,--bore away Rhodopis'

slippers while she was bathing in the Nile, and laid them at the feet of

the king, when seated on his throne of justice in the open market.

The little slippers so enchanted him that he did not rest until he had

discovered their owner and made her his queen.

The second legend tells us how a wonderfully beautiful naked woman

could be seen sitting on the summit of one of the pyramids (ut in una ex

pyramidibus); and how she drove the wanderers in the desert mad through

her exceeding loveliness.

Moore borrowed this legend and introduces it in the following verse:

"Fair Rhodope, as story tells--

The bright unearthly nymph, who dwells

'Mid sunless gold and jewels hid,

The lady of the Pyramid."

Fabulous as these stories sound, they still prove that Rhodopis must

have been no ordinary woman. Some scholars would place her on a level

with the beautiful and heroic Queen Nitokris, spoken of by Julius

Africanus, Eusebius and others, and whose name, (signifying the

victorious Neith) has been found on the monuments, applied to a queen

of the sixth dynasty. This is a bold conjecture; it adds however to the

importance of our heroine; and without doubt many traditions referring

to the one have been transferred to the other, and vice versa.

Herodotus lived so short a time after Rhodopis, and tells so many exact

particulars of her private life that it is impossible she should have

been a mere creation of fiction. The letter of Darius, given at the

end of Vol. II., is intended to identify the Greek Rhodopis with the

mythical builder of the Pyramid. I would also mention here that she

is called Doricha by Sappho. This may have been her name before she

received the title of the "rosy-cheeked one."

I must apologize for the torrent of verse that appears in the

love-scenes between Sappho and Bartja; it is also incumbent upon me to

say a few words about the love-scenes themselves, which I have altered

very slightly in the new edition, though they have been more severely

criticised than any other portion of the work.

First I will confess that the lines describing the happy love of a

handsome young couple to whom I had myself become warmly attached,

flowed from my pen involuntarily, even against my will (I intended to

write a novel in prose) in the quiet night, by the eternal Nile, among

the palms and roses. The first love-scene has a story of its own to me.

I wrote it in half an hour, almost unconsciously. It may be read in my

book that the Persians always reflected in the morning, when sober, upon

the resolutions formed the night before, while drunk. When I examined in

the sunshine what had come into existence by lamplight, I grew doubtful

of its merits, and was on the point of destroying the love-scenes

altogether, when my dear friend Julius Hammer, the author of "Schau

in Dich, und Schau um Dich," too early summoned to the other world by

death, stayed my hand. Their form was also approved by others, and I

tell myself that the 'poetical' expression of love is very similar in

all lands and ages, while lovers' conversations and modes of intercourse

vary according to time and place. Besides, I have to deal with one of

those by no means rare cases, where poetry can approach nearer the truth

than prudent, watchful prose. Many of my honored critics have censured

these scenes; others, among whom are some whose opinion I specially

value, have lavished the kindest praise upon them. Among these gentlemen

I will mention A. Stahr, C. V. Holtei, M. Hartmann, E. Hoefer, W.

Wolfsohn, C. Leemans, Professor Veth of Amsterdam, etc. Yet I will not

conceal the fact that some, whose opinion has great weight, have asked:

"Did the ancients know anything of love, in our sense of the word?

Is not romantic love, as we know it, a result of Christianity?" The

following sentence, which stands at the head of the preface to my first

edition, will prove that I had not ignored this question when I began my

task.

"It has often been remarked that in Cicero's letters and those of

Pliny the younger there are unmistakable indications of sympathy

with the more sentimental feeling of modern days. I find in them

tones of deep tenderness only, such as have arisen and will arise

from sad and aching hearts in every land and every age."

A. v. HUMBOLDT. Cosmos II. P. 19.

This opinion of our great scholar is one with which I cheerfully

coincide and would refer my readers to the fact that love-stories were

written before the Christian era: the Amor and Psyche of Apuleius for

instance. Indeed love in all its forms was familiar to the ancients.

Where can we find a more beautiful expression of ardent passion than

glows in Sappho's songs? or of patient faithful constancy than in

Homer's Penelope? Could there be a more beautiful picture of the union

of two loving hearts, even beyond the grave, than Xenophon has preserved

for us in his account of Panthea and Abradatas? or the story of Sabinus

the Gaul and his wife, told in the history of Vespasian? Is there

anywhere a sweeter legend than that of the Halcyons, the ice-birds, who

love one another so tenderly that when the male becomes enfeebled by

age, his mate carries him on her outspread wings whithersoever he will;

and the gods, desiring to reward such faithful love, cause the sun to

shine more kindly, and still the winds and waves on the "Halcyon days"

during which these birds are building their nest and brooding over their

young? There can surely have been no lack of romantic love in days when

a used-up man of the world, like Antony, could desire in his will that

wherever he died his body might be laid by the side of his beloved

Cleopatra: nor of the chivalry of love when Berenice's beautiful hair

was placed as a constellation in the heavens. Neither can we believe

that devotion in the cause of love could be wanting when a whole

nation was ready to wage a fierce and obstinate war for the sake of one

beautiful woman. The Greeks had an insult to revenge, but the Trojans

fought for the possession of Helen. Even the old men of Ilium were ready

"to suffer long for such a woman." And finally is not the whole question

answered in Theocritus' unparalleled poem, "the Sorceress?" We see the

poor love-lorn girl and her old woman-servant, Thestylis, cowering over

the fire above which the bird supposed to possess the power of bringing

back the faithless Delphis is sitting in his wheel. Simoetha has learnt

many spells and charms from an Assyrian, and she tries them all. The

distant roar of the waves, the stroke rising from the fire, the dogs

howling in the street, the tortured fluttering bird, the old woman, the

broken-hearted girl and her awful spells, all join in forming a night

scene the effect of which is heightened by the calm cold moonshine.

The old woman leaves the girl, who at once ceases to weave her spells,

allows her pent-up tears to have their way, and looking up to Selene the

moon, the lovers' silent confidante, pours out her whole story: how when

she first saw the beautiful Delphis her heart had glowed with love, she

had seen nothing more of the train of youths who followed him, "and,"

(thus sadly the poet makes her speak)

"how I gained my home

I knew not; some strange fever wasted me.

Ten days and nights I lay upon my bed.

O tell me, mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

"Then" (she continues) when Delphis at last crossed her threshold:

"I

Became all cold like snow, and from my brow

Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none,

Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make

That babbles to its mother in its dreams;

But all my fair frame stiffened into wax,--

O tell me mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

Whence came her love? thence, whence it comes to us now. The love of the

creature to its Creator, of man to God, is the grand and yet gracious

gift of Christianity. Christ's command to love our neighbor called

into existence not only the conception of philanthropy, but of humanity

itself, an idea unknown to the heathen world, where love had been at

widest limited to their native town and country. The love of man and

wife has without doubt been purified and transfigured by Christianity;

still it is possible that a Greek may have loved as tenderly and

longingly as a Christian. The more ardent glow of passion at least

cannot be denied to the ancients. And did not their love find vent

in the same expressions as our own? Who does not know the charming

roundelay:

"Drink the glad wine with me,

With me spend youth's gay hours;

Or a sighing lover be,

Or crown thy brow with flowers.

When I am merry and mad,

Merry and mad be you;

When I am sober and sad,

Be sad and sober too!"

--written however by no poet of modern days, but by Praxilla, in the

fifth century before Christ. Who would guess either that Moore's little

song was modelled on one written even earlier than the date of our

story?

"As o'er her loom the Lesbian maid

In love-sick languor hung her head.

Unknowing where her fingers stray'd,

She weeping turned away and said,'

Oh, my sweet mother, 'tis in vain,

I cannot weave as once I wove;

So wilder'd is my heart and brain

With thinking of that youth I love.'"

If my space allowed I could add much more on this subject, but will

permit myself only one remark in conclusion. Lovers delighted in nature

then as now; the moon was their chosen confidante, and I know of no

modern poem in which the mysterious charm of a summer night and the

magic beauty which lies on flowers, trees and fountains in those silent

hours when the world is asleep, is more exquisitely described than in

the following verses, also by Sappho, at the reading of which we seem

forced to breathe more slowly, "kuhl bis an's Herz hinan."

"Planets, that around the beauteous moon

Attendant wait, cast into shade

Their ineffectual lustres, soon

As she, in full-orb'd majesty array'd,

Her silver radiance pours

Upon this world of ours."

and:--

"Thro' orchard plots with fragrance crown'd,

The clear cold fountain murm'ring flows;

And forest leaves, with rustling sound,

Invite to soft repose."

The foregoing remarks seemed to me due to those who consider a love such

as that of Sappho and Bartja to have been impossible among the ancients.

Unquestionably it was much rarer then than in these days: indeed I

confess to having sketched my pair of lovers in somewhat bright colors.

But may I not be allowed, at least once, to claim the poet's freedom?

How seldom I have availed myself of this freedom will be evident from

the notes included in each volume. They seemed to me necessary, partly

in order to explain the names and illustrate the circumstances mentioned

in the text, and partly to vindicate the writer in the eyes of the

learned. I trust they may not prove discouraging to any, as the text

will be found easily readable without reference to the explanations.

Jena, November 23, 1868.

GEORG EBERS, DR.

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH GERMAN EDITION.

Two years and a half after the appearance of the third edition of "An

Egyptian Princess," a fourth was needed. I returned long since from

the journey to the Nile, for which I was preparing while correcting the

proof-sheets of the third edition, and on which I can look back with

special satisfaction. During my residence in Egypt, in 1872-73, a

lucky accident enabled me to make many new discoveries; among them one

treasure of incomparable value, the great hieratic manuscript, which

bears my name. Its publication has just been completed, and it is now in

the library of the Leipzig University.

The Papyrus Ebers, the second in size and the best preserved of all the

ancient Egyptian manuscripts which have come into our possession,

was written in the 16th century B. C., and contains on 110 pages the

hermetic book upon the medicines of the ancient Egyptians, known also to

the Alexandrine Greeks. The god Thoth (Hermes) is called "the guide" of

physicians, and the various writings and treatises of which the work is

composed are revelations from him. In this venerable scroll diagnoses

are made and remedies suggested for the internal and external diseases

of most portions of the human body. With the drugs prescribed are

numbers, according to which they are weighed with weights and measured

with hollow measures, and accompanying the prescriptions are noted the

pious axioms to be repeated by the physician, while compounding and

giving them to the patient. On the second line of the first page of our

manuscript, it is stated that it came from Sais. A large portion of

this work is devoted to the visual organs. On the twentieth line of the

fifty-fifth page begins the book on the eyes, which fills eight large

pages. We were formerly compelled to draw from Greek and Roman authors

what we knew about the remedies used for diseases of the eye among the

ancient Egyptians. The portion of the Papyrus Ebers just mentioned

is now the only Egyptian source from whence we can obtain instruction

concerning this important branch of ancient medicine.

All this scarcely seems to have a place in the preface of a historical

romance, and yet it is worthy of mention here; for there is something

almost "providential" in the fact that it was reserved for the author

of "An Egyptian Princess" to bestow the gift of this manuscript upon the

scientific world. Among the characters in the novel the reader will meet

an oculist from Sais, who wrote a book upon the diseases of the visual

organs. The fate of this valuable work exactly agrees with the course

of the narrative. The papyrus scroll of the Sais oculist, which a short

time ago existed only in the imagination of the author and readers of

"An Egyptian Princess," is now an established fact. When I succeeded in

bringing the manuscript home, I felt like the man who had dreamed of a

treasure, and when he went out to ride found it in his path.

A reply to Monsieur Jules Soury's criticism of "An Egyptian Princess" in

the Revue des deux Mondes, Vol. VII, January 1875, might appropriately

be introduced into this preface, but would scarcely be possible without

entering more deeply into the ever-disputed question, which will be

answered elsewhere, whether the historical romance is ever justifiable.

Yet I cannot refrain from informing Monsieur Soury here that "An

Egyptian Princess" detained me from no other work. I wrote it in my

sick-room, before entering upon my academic career, and while composing

it, found not only comfort and pleasure, but an opportunity to give dead

scientific material a living interest for myself and others.

Monsieur Soury says romance is the mortal enemy of history; but this

sentence may have no more justice than the one with which I think myself

justified in replying: Landscape painting is the mortal enemy of botany.

The historical romance must be enjoyed like any other work of art.

No one reads it to study history; but many, the author hopes, may be

aroused by his work to make investigations of their own, for which the

notes point out the way. Already several persons of excellent mental

powers have been attracted to earnest Egyptological researches by

"An Egyptian Princess." In the presence of such experiences, although

Monsieur Soury's clever statements appear to contain much that is true,

I need not apply his remark that "historical romances injure the cause

of science" to the present volume.

Leipzig, April 19, 1875.

GEORG EBERS.

PREFACE TO THE FIFTH GERMAN EDITION.

Again a new edition of "An Egyptian Princess" has been required, and

again I write a special preface because the printing has progressed so

rapidly as unfortunately to render it impossible for me to correct

some errors to which my attention was directed by the kindness of

the well-known botanist, Professor Paul Ascherson of Berlin, who has

travelled through Egypt and the Oases.

In Vol. I, page 7, I allow mimosas to grow among other plants in

Rhodopis' garden. I have found them in all the descriptions of the Nile

valley, and afterwards often enjoyed the delicious perfume of the golden

yellow flowers in the gardens of Alexandria and Cairo. I now learn that

this very mimosa (Acacia farnesiana) originates in tropical America, and

was undoubtedly unknown in ancient Egypt. The bananas, which I mentioned

in Vol. I, p. 64, among other Egyptian plants, were first introduced

into the Nile valley from India by the Arabs. The botanical errors

occurring in the last volume I was able to correct. Helm's admirable

work on "Cultivated Plants and Domestic Animals" had taught me to notice

such things. Theophrastus, a native of Asia Minor, gives the first

description of a citron, and this proves that he probably saw the

so-called paradise-apple, but not our citron, which I am therefore not

permitted to mention among the plants cultivated in ancient Lydia. Palms

and birches are both found in Asia Minor; but I permitted them to grow

side by side, thereby committing an offense against the geographical

possibility of vegetable existence. The birch, in this locality,

flourishes in the mountainous region, the palm, according to Griesbach

(Vegetation of the Earth, Vol. I, p. 319) only appears on the southern

coast of the peninsula. The latter errors, as I previously mentioned,

will be corrected in the new edition. I shall of course owe special

thanks to any one who may call my attention to similar mistakes.

Leipzig, March 5, 1877

GEORG EBERS

PREFACE TO THE NINTH GERMAN EDITION.

I have nothing to add to the ninth edition of "An Egyptian Princess"

except that it has been thoroughly revised. My sincere thanks are due

to Dr. August Steitz of Frankfort on the Main, who has travelled through

Egypt and Asia Minor, for a series of admirable notes, which he kindly

placed at my disposal. He will find that they have not remained unused.

Leipzig, November 13, 1879.

GEORG EBERS

AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS.

By Georg Ebers

BOOK 1.

CHAPTER I.

The Nile had overflowed its bed. The luxuriant corn-fields and blooming

gardens on its shores were lost beneath a boundless waste of waters; and

only the gigantic temples and palaces of its cities, (protected from the

force of the water by dikes), and the tops of the tall palm-trees and

acacias could be seen above its surface. The branches of the sycamores

and plane-trees drooped and floated on the waves, but the boughs of the

tall silver poplars strained upward, as if anxious to avoid the watery

world beneath. The full-moon had risen; her soft light fell on the

Libyan range of mountains vanishing on the western horizon, and in the

north the shimmer of the Mediterranean could faintly be discerned. Blue

and white lotus-flowers floated on the clear water, bats of all

kinds darted softly through the still air, heavy with the scent of

acacia-blossom and jasmine; the wild pigeons and other birds were at

roost in the tops of the trees, while the pelicans, storks and cranes

squatted in groups on the shore under the shelter of the papyrus-reeds

and Nile-beans. The pelicans and storks remained motionless, their long

bills hidden beneath their wings, but the cranes were startled by the

mere beat of an oar, stretching their necks, and peering anxiously into

the distance, if they heard but the song of the boatmen. The air was

perfectly motionless, and the unbroken reflection of the moon, lying

like a silver shield on the surface of the water, proved that, wildly as

the Nile leaps over the cataracts, and rushes past the gigantic temples

of Upper Egypt, yet on approaching the sea by different arms, he can

abandon his impetuous course, and flow along in sober tranquillity.

On this moonlight night in the year 528 B. C. a bark was crossing the

almost currentless Canopic mouth of the Nile. On the raised deck at

the stern of this boat an Egyptian was sitting to guide the long

pole-rudder, and the half-naked boatmen within were singing as

they rowed. In the open cabin, which was something like a wooden

summer-house, sat two men, reclining on low cushions. They were

evidently not Egyptians; their Greek descent could be perceived even by

the moonlight. The elder was an unusually tall and powerful man of

more than sixty; thick grey curls, showing very little attempt at

arrangement, hung down over his short, firm throat; he wore a simple,

homely cloak, and kept his eyes gloomily fixed on the water. His

companion, on the contrary, a man perhaps twenty years younger, of a

slender and delicate build, was seldom still. Sometimes he gazed into

the heavens, sometimes made a remark to the steersman, disposed his

beautiful purple chlanis in fresh folds, or busied himself in the

arrangement of his scented brown curls, or his carefully curled beard.

[The chlanis was a light summer-mantle, worn especially by the more

elegant Athenians, and generally made of expensive materials. The

simpler cloak, the himation, was worn by the Doric Greeks, and

principally by the Spartans.]

The boat had left Naukratis, at that time the only Hellenic port in

Egypt, about half an hour before.

[This town, which will form the scene of a part of our tale, lies in

the northwest of the Nile Delta, in the Saitic Nomos or district, on

the left bank of the Canopic mouth of the river. According to

Strabo and Eusebius it was founded by Milesians, and Bunsen reckons

749 B. C. It seems that in the earliest times Greek ships were only

allowed to enter this mouth of the Nile in case of necessity. The

entire intercourse of the Egyptians with the hated strangers was, at

that time, restricted to the little island of Pharos lying opposite

to the town of Thonis.]

During their journey, the grey-haired, moody man had not spoken one

word, and the other had left him to his meditations. But now, as the

boat neared the shore, the restless traveller, rising from his couch,

called to his companion: "We are just at our destination, Aristomachus!

That pleasant house to the left yonder, in the garden of palms which you

can see rising above the waters, is the dwelling of my friend Rhodopis.

It was built by her husband Charaxus, and all her friends, not excepting

the king himself, vie with one another in adding new beauties to it

year by year. A useless effort! Let them adorn that house with all the

treasures in the world, the woman who lives within will still remain its

best ornament!"

[We are writing of the month of October, when the Nile begins to

sink. The inundations can now be accurately accounted for,

especially since the important and laborious synoptical work of H.

Barth and S. Baker. They are occasioned by the tropical rains, and

the melting of the snows on the high mountain-ranges at the Equator.

In the beginning of June a gradual rising of the Nile waters can be

perceived; between the 15th and 20th June, this changes to a rapid

increase; in the beginning of October the waters reach their highest

elevation, a point, which, even after having begun their retreat,

they once more attempt to attain; then, at first gradually, and

afterwards with ever increasing rapidity, they continue to sink. In

January, February and March, the Nile is still drying up; and in May

is at its lowest point, when the volume of its waters is only one-

twentieth of that in October.]

The old man sat up, threw a passing glance at the building, smoothed the

thick grey beard which clothed his cheeks and chin, but left the lips

free,--[The Spartans were not in the habit of wearing a beard on the

upper lip.]--and asked abruptly: "Why so much enthusiasm, Phanes,

for this Rhodopis? How long have the Athenians been wont to extol

old women?" At this remark the other smiled, and answered in a

self-satisfied tone, "My knowledge of the world, and particularly of

women, is, I flatter myself, an extended one, and yet I repeat, that in

all Egypt I know of no nobler creature than this grey-haired woman. When

you have seen her and her lovely grandchild, and heard your favorite

melodies sung by her well-practised choir of slave-girls, I think you

will thank me for having brought you hither."--"Yet," answered the

Spartan gravely, "I should not have accompanied you, if I had not hoped

to meet Phryxus, the Delphian, here."

"You will find him here; and besides, I cannot but hope that the songs

will cheer you, and dispel your gloomy thoughts." Aristomachus shook his

head in denial, and answered: "To you, sanguine Athenians, the melodies

of your country may be cheering: but not so to me; as in many a

sleepless night of dreams, my longings will be doubled, not stilled by

the songs of Alkman."

[Alkman (Attic, Alkmaeon) flourished in Sparta about 650 B. C. His

mother was a Lydian slave in Sardes, and he came into the possession

of Agesides, who gave him his freedom. His beautiful songs soon

procured him the rights of a Lacedaemonian citizen. He was

appointed to the head-directorship in the entire department of music

in Lacedaemon and succeeded in naturalizing the soft Lydian music.

His language was the Doric-Laconian. After a life devoted to song,

the pleasures of the table and of love, he is said to have died of

a fearful disease. From the frequent choruses of virgins

(Parthenien) said to have been originally introduced by him, his

frequent songs in praise of women, and the friendly relations in

which he stood to the Spartan women (more especially to the fair

Megalostrata), he gained the name of the woman's poet.]

"Do you think then," replied Phanes, "that I have no longing for my

beloved Athens, for the scenes of our youthful games, for the busy life

of the market? Truly, the bread of exile is not less distasteful to my

palate than to yours, but, in the society afforded by this house, it

loses some of its bitterness, and when the dear melodies of Hellas, so

perfectly sung, fall on my ear, my native land rises before me as in a

vision, I see its pine and olive groves, its cold, emerald green rivers,

its blue sea, the shimmer of its towns, its snowy mountain-tops and

marble temples, and a half-sweet, half-bitter tear steals down my cheek

as the music ceases, and I awake to remember that I am in Egypt, in this

monotonous, hot, eccentric country, which, the gods be praised, I am

soon about to quit. But, Aristomachus, would you then avoid the few

Oases in the desert, because you must afterwards return to its sands

and drought? Would you fly from one happy hour, because days of sadness

await you later? But stop, here we are! Show a cheerful countenance, my

friend, for it becomes us not to enter the temple of the Charites with

sad hearts."--[The goddesses of grace and beauty, better known by their

Roman name of "Graces."]

As Phanes uttered these words, they landed at the garden wall, washed

by the Nile. The Athenian bounded lightly from the boat, the Spartan

following with a heavier, firmer tread. Aristomachus had a wooden

leg, but his step was so firm, even when compared with that of the

light-footed Phanes, that it might have been thought to be his own limb.

The garden of Rhodopis was as full of sound, and scent and blossom as

a night in fairy-land. It was one labyrinth of acanthus shrubs,

yellow mimosa, the snowy gelder-rose, jasmine and lilac, red roses and

laburnums, overshadowed by tall palm-trees, acacias and balsam trees.

Large bats hovered softly on their delicate wings over the whole, and

sounds of mirth and song echoed from the river.

This garden had been laid out by an Egyptian, and the builders of

the Pyramids had already been celebrated for ages for their skill in

horticulture. They well understood how to mark out neat flower-beds,

plant groups of trees and shrubs in regular order, water the whole

by aqueducts and fountains, arrange arbors and summerhouses, and even

inclose the walks with artistically clipped hedges, and breed goldfish

in stone basins.

At the garden gate Phanes stopped, looked around him carefully and

listened; then shaking his head, "I do not understand what this can

mean," he said. "I hear no voices, there is not a single light to be

seen, the boats are all gone, and yet the flag is still flying at its

gay flag-staff, there, by the obelisks on each side of the gate."

[Obelisks bearing the name of the owner were sometimes to be seen

near the gates of the Egyptian country-houses. Flags too were not

uncommon, but these were almost exclusively to be found at the gates

of the temples, where to this day the iron sockets for the flagstaff

can still be seen. Neither were flags unknown to the Greeks. It

appears from some inscriptions on the staffs of the Pylons, that if

the former were not actually erected for lightning-rods, it had been

noticed that they attracted the electricity.]

"Rhodopis must surely be from home; can they have forgotten?"--Here

a deep voice suddenly interrupted him with the exclamation, "Ha! the

commander of the body-guard!"

"A pleasant evening to you, Knakais," exclaimed Phanes, kindly greeting

the old man, who now came up. "But how is it that this garden is as

still as an Egyptian tomb, and yet the flag of welcome is fluttering at

the gate? How long has that white ensign waved for guests in vain?"

"How long indeed?" echoed the old slave of Rhodopis with a smile. "So

long as the Fates graciously spare the life of my mistress, the old flag

is sure to waft as many guests hither as the house is able to contain.

Rhodopis is not at home now, but she must return shortly. The evening

being so fine, she determined on taking a pleasure-trip on the Nile with

her guests. They started at sunset, two hours ago, and the evening meal

is already prepared; they cannot remain away much longer. I pray you,

Phanes, to have patience and follow me into the house. Rhodopis would

not easily forgive me, if I allowed such valued guests to depart. You

stranger," he added, turning to the Spartan, "I entreat most heartily

to remain; as friend of your friend you will be doubly welcome to my

mistress."

The two Greeks, following the servant, seated themselves in an arbor,

and Aristomachus, after gazing on the scene around him now brilliantly

lighted by the moon, said, "Explain to me, Phanes, by what good fortune

this Rhodopis, formerly only a slave and courtesan can now live as a

queen, and receive her guests in this princely manner?"

[The mistresses (Hetaere) of the Greeks must not be compared with

modern women of bad reputation. The better members of this class

represented the intelligence and culture of their sex in Greece, and

more especially in the Ionian provinces. As an instance we need

only recall Aspasia and her well-attested relation to Pericles and

Socrates. Our heroine Rhodopis was a celebrated woman. The

Hetaera, Thargalia of Miletus, became the wife of a Thessalian king.

Ptolemy Lagi married Thais; her daughter was called Irene, and her

sons Leontiskus and Lagus. Finally, statues were erected to many.]

"I have long expected this question," answered the Athenian. "I shall

be delighted to make you acquainted with the past history of this woman

before you enter her house. So long as we were on the Nile, I would not

intrude my tale upon you; that ancient river has a wonderful power of

compelling to silence and quiet contemplation. Even my usually quick

tongue was paralyzed like yours, when I took my first night-journey on

the Nile."

"I thank you for this," replied the Spartan. "When I first saw the aged

priest Epimenides, at Knossus in Crete, he was one hundred and fifty

years old, and I remember that his age and sanctity filled me with a

strange dread; but how far older, how far more sacred, is this hoary

river, the ancient stream 'Aigyptos'! Who would wish to avoid the

power of his spells? Now, however, I beg you to give me the history of

Rhodopis."

Phanes began: "When Rhodopis was a little child playing with her

companions on the Thracian sea-shore, she was stolen by some Phoenician

mariners, carried to Samos, and bought by Iadmon, one of the geomori, or

landed aristocracy of the island. The little girl grew day by day more

beautiful, graceful and clever, and was soon an object of love and

admiration to all who knew her. AEsop, the fable-writer, who was at that

time also in bondage to Iadmon, took an especial pleasure in the growing

amiability and talent of the child, taught her and cared for her in the

same way as the tutors whom we keep to educate our Athenian boys.

The kind teacher found his pupil tractable and quick of comprehension,

and the little slave soon practised the arts of music, singing and

eloquence, in a more charming and agreeable manner than the sons of her

master Iadmon, on whose education the greatest care had been lavished.

By the time she had reached her fourteenth year, Rhodopis was so

beautiful and accomplished, that the jealous wife of Iadmon would not

suffer her to remain any longer in the house, and the Samian was forced,

with a heavy heart, to sell her to a certain Xanthus. The government of

Samos at that time was still in the hands of the less opulent nobles;

had Polykrates then been at the head of affairs, Xanthus need not have

despaired of a purchaser. These tyrants fill their treasuries as the

magpies their nests! As it was, however, he went off with his precious

jewel to Naukratis, and there gained a fortune by means of her wondrous

charms. These were three years of the deepest humiliation to Rhodopis,

which she still remembers with horror.

Now it happened, just at the time when her fame was spreading through

all Greece, and strangers were coming from far to Naukratis for her sake

alone, that the people of Lesbos rose up against their nobles, drove

them forth, and chose the wise Pittakus as their ruler.

[According to Herodotus the beauty of Rhodopis was so great that

every Greek knew her by name.]

The highest families of Lesbos were forced to leave the country, and

fled, some to Sicily, some to the Greek provinces of Italy, and others

to Egypt. Alcaeus, the greatest poet of his day, and Charaxus, the

brother of that Sappho whose odes it was our Solon's last wish to

learn by heart, came here to Naukratis, which had already long been the

flourishing centre of commercial communication between Egypt and

the rest of the world. Charaxus saw Rhodopis, and soon loved her

so passionately, that he gave an immense sum to secure her from the

mercenary Xanthus, who was on the point of returning with her to his own

country; Sappho wrote some biting verses, derisive of her brother

and his purchase, but Alcaeus on the other hand, approved, and gave

expression to this feeling in glowing songs on the charms of Rhodopis.

And now Sappho's brother, who had till then remained undistinguished

among the many strangers at Naukratis, became a noted man through

Rhodopis. His house was soon the centre of attraction to all foreigners,

by whom she was overwhelmed with gifts. The King Hophra, hearing of her

beauty and talent, sent for her to Memphis, and offered to buy her

of Charaxus, but the latter had already long, though secretly,

given Rhodopis her freedom, and loved her far too well to allow of a

separation. She too, loved the handsome Lesbian and refused to leave

him despite the brilliant offers made to her on all sides. At length

Charaxus made this wonderful woman his lawful wife, and continued to

live with her and her little daughter Kleis in Naukratis, until the

Lesbian exiles were recalled to their native land by Pittakus. He then

started homeward with his wife, but fell ill on the journey, and died

soon after his arrival at Mitylene. Sappho, who had derided her brother

for marrying one beneath him, soon became an enthusiastic admirer of the

beautiful widow and rivalled Alcaeus in passionate songs to her praise.

After the death of the poetess, Rhodopis returned, with her little

daughter, to Naukratis, where she was welcomed as a goddess. During this

interval Amasis, the present king of Egypt, had usurped the throne of

the Pharaohs, and was maintaining himself in its possession by help of

the army, to which caste he belonged.

[Amasis, of whom much will be said in our text, reigned 570-526 B.

C. His name, in the hieroglyphic signs, was Aahmes or young moon

but the name by which he was commonly called was Sa-Nit "Son of

Neith." His name, and pictures of him are to be found on stones in

the fortress of Cairo, on a relief in Florence, a statue in the

Vatican, on sarcophagi in Stockholm and London, a statue in the

Villa Albani and on a little temple of red granite at Leyden. A

beautiful bust of gray-wacke in our possession probably represents

the same king.]

As his predecessor Hophra had accelerated his fall, and brought the

army and priesthood to open rebellion by his predilection for the

Greek nation, and for intercourse with foreigners generally, (always

an abomination in the eyes of the Egyptians), men felt confident that

Amasis would return to the old ways, would rigorously exclude foreigners

from the country, dismiss the Greek mercenaries, and instead of taking

counsel from the Greeks, would hearken only to the commands of the

priesthood. But in this, as you must see yourself, the prudent Egyptians

had guessed wide of the mark in their choice of a ruler; they fell from

Scylla into Charybdis. If Hophra was called the Greeks' friend, Amasis

must be named our lover. The Egyptians, especially the priests and the

army, breathe fire and flame, and would fain strangle us one and all,

off hand, This feeling on the part of the soldiery does not disturb

Amasis, for he knows too well the comparative value of their and our

services; but with the priests it is another and more serious matter,

for two reasons: first, they possess an unbounded influence over the

people; and secondly. Amasis himself retains more affection than he

likes to acknowledge to us, for this absurd and insipid religion--a

religion which appears doubly sacred to its adherents simply because it

has existed in this eccentric land--unchanged for thousands of years.

These priests make the king's life burdensome to him; they persecute and

injure us in every possible way; and indeed, if it had not been for

the king's protection, I should long ago have been a dead man. But I

am wandering from my tale! As I said before, Rhodopis was received

at Naukratis with open arms by all, and loaded with marks of favor by

Amasis, who formed her acquaintance. Her daughter Kleis, as is the case

with the little Sappho now--was never allowed to appear in the society

which assembled every evening at her mother's house, and indeed was even

more strictly brought up than the other young girls in Naukratis. She

married Glaucus, a rich Phocaean merchant of noble family, who had

defended his native town with great bravery against the Persians, and

with him departed to the newly-founded Massalia, on the Celtic coast.

There, however, the young couple both fell victims to the climate, and

died, leaving a little daughter, Sappho. Rhodopis at once undertook the

long journey westward, brought the orphan child back to live with her,

spent the utmost care on her education, and now that she is grown up,

forbids her the society of men, still feeling the stains of her own

youth so keenly that she would fain keep her granddaughter (and this in

Sappho's case is not difficult), at a greater distance from contact

with our sex than is rendered necessary, by the customs of Egypt. To my

friend herself society is as indispensable as water to the fish or air

to the bird. Her house is frequented by all the strangers here, and

whoever has once experienced her hospitality and has the time at command

will never after be found absent when the flag announces an evening of

reception. Every Greek of mark is to be found here, as it is in this

house that we consult on the wisest measures for encountering the hatred

of the priests and bringing the king round to our own views. Here you

can obtain not only the latest news from home, but from the rest of the

world, and this house is an inviolable sanctuary for the persecuted,

Rhodopis possessing a royal warrant which secures her from every

molestation on the part of the police.

[A very active and strict police-force existed in Egypt, the

organization of which is said to have owed much to Amasis' care. We

also read in inscriptions and papyrus rolls, that a body of mounted

police existed, the ranks of which were generally filled by

foreigners in preference to natives.]

Our own songs and our own language are to be heard here, and here we

take counsel on the best means for delivering Greece from the ever fresh

encroachments of her tyrants.

In a word, this house is the centre of attraction for all Hellenic

interests in Egypt, and of more importance to us politically, than our

temple, the Hellenion itself, and our hall of commerce.

In a few minutes you will see this remarkable grandmother, and, if we

should be here alone, perhaps the grandchild too; you will then at once

perceive that they owe everything to their own rare qualities and not to

the chances of good fortune. Ah! there they come! they are going towards

the house. Cannot you hear the slave-girls singing? Now they are going

in. First let them quietly be seated, then follow me, and when the

evening is over you shall say whether you repent of having come

hither, and whether Rhodopis resembles more nearly a queen or a freed

bond-woman."

The houses was built in the Grecian style. It was a rather long,

one-storied building, the outside of which would be called extremely

plain in the present day; within, it united the Egyptian brilliancy of

coloring with the Greek beauty of form. The principal door opened

into the entrance-hall. To the left of this lay a large dining-room,

overlooking the Nile, and, opposite to this last was the kitchen, an

apartment only to be found in the houses of the wealthier Greeks, the

poorer families being accustomed to prepare their food at the hearth in

the front apartment. The hall of reception lay at the other end of the

entrance-hall, and was in the form of a square, surrounded within by a

colonnade, into which various chambers opened. This was the apartment

devoted to the men, in the centre of which was the household fire,

burning on an altar-shaped hearth of rich AEginetan metal-work.

It was lighted by an opening in the roof, which formed at the same time,

an outlet for the smoke. From this room (at the opposite end to that

on which it opened into the entrance-hall), a passage, closed by a

well-fastened door, led into the chamber of the women. This was also

surrounded by a colonnade within, but only on three sides, and here

the female inhabitants were accustomed to pass their time, when not

employed, spinning or weaving, in the rooms lying near the back or

garden-door as it was termed. Between these latter and the domestic

offices, which lay on the right and left of the women's apartment, were

the sleeping-rooms; these served also as places of security for the

valuables of the house. The walls of the men's apartment were painted of

a reddish-brown color, against which the outlines of some white marble

carvings, the gift of a Chian sculptor, stood out in sharp relief.

The floor was covered with rich carpets from Sardis; low cushions of

panthers' skins lay ranged along the colonnade; around the

artistically wrought hearth stood quaint Egyptian settees, and small,

delicately-carved tables of Thya wood, on which lay all kinds of musical

instruments, the flute, cithara and lyre. Numerous lamps of various

and singular shapes, filled with Kiki oil, hung against the walls. Some

represented fire-spouting dolphins; others, strange winged monsters from

whose jaws the flames issued; and these, blending their light with that

from the hearth, illumined the apartment.

In this room a group of men were assembled, whose appearance and dress

differed one from the other. A Syrian from Tyre, in a long crimson robe,

was talking animatedly to a man whose decided features and crisp, curly,

black hair proclaimed him an Israelite. The latter had come to Egypt

to buy chariots and horses for Zerubbabel, the governor of Judah--the

Egyptian equipages being the most sought after at that time. Close to

him stood three Greeks from Asia Minor, the rich folds of whose

garments (for they wore the costly dress of their native city Miletus),

contrasted strongly with the plain and unadorned robe of Phryxus, the

deputy commissioned to collect money for the temple of Apollo at Delphi,

with whom they were in earnest conversation. Ten years before, the

ancient temple had been consumed by fire; and at this time efforts were

being made to build another, and a more beautiful one.

Two of the Milesians, disciples of Anaximander and Anaximenes, were

staying then in Egypt, to study astronomy and the peculiar wisdom of

the Egyptians at Heliopolis, and the third was a wealthy merchant and

ship-owner, named Theopompus, who had settled at Naukratis.

[Anaximander of Miletus, born 611-546, was a celebrated

geometrician, astronomer, philosopher and geographer. He was the

author of a book on natural phenomena, drew the first map of the

world on metal, and introduced into Greece a kind of clock which he

seems to have borrowed from the Babylonians. He supposes a primary

and not easily definable Being, by which the whole world is

governed, and in which, though in himself infinite and without

limits, everything material and circumscribed has its foundation.

"Chaotic matter" represents in his theory the germ of all created

things, from which water, earth, animals, nereids or fish-men, human

beings &c. have had their origin.]

Rhodopis herself was engaged in a lively conversation with two Samian

Greeks: the celebrated worker in metals, sculptor and goldsmith

Theodorus, and the Iambic poet Ibykus of Rhegium, who had left the court

of Polykrates for a time in order to become acquainted with Egypt, and

were bearers of presents to Amasis from their ruler. Close to the fire

lay Philoinus of Sybaris, a corpulent man with strongly-marked features

and a sensual expression of face; he was stretched at full-length on a

couch covered with spotted furs, and amused himself by playing with his

scented curls wreathed with gold, and with the golden chains which fell

from his neck on to the long saffron-colored robe that clothed him down

to his feet.

[Sybaris was a town in Lower Italy notorious throughout the ancient

world for its luxury. According to Strabo it was founded by

Achaeans 262. About 510 it was conquered and destroyed by the

Crotoniates and then rebuilt under the name of Thurii.]

Rhodopis had a kind word for each of her guests, but at present she

occupied herself exclusively with the two celebrated Sarnians; their

talk was of art and poetry. The fire of youth still glowed in the eyes

of the Thracian woman, her tall figure was still full and unbent;

her hair, though grey, was wound round her beautifully formed head in

luxuriant waves, and laid together at the back in a golden net, and a

sparkling diadem shone above her lofty forehead.

Her noble Greek features were pale, but still beautiful and without a

wrinkle, notwithstanding her great age; indeed her small mouth with its

full lips, her white teeth, her eyes so bright and yet so soft, and her

nobly-formed nose and forehead would have been beauty enough for a young

maiden.

Rhodopis looked younger than she really was, though she made no attempt

to disavow her age. Matronly dignity was visible in every movement, and

the charm of her manner lay, not in a youthful endeavor to be pleasing,

but in the effort of age to please others, considering their wishes, and

at the same time demanding consideration in return.

Our two friends now presenting themselves in the hall, every eye turned

upon them, and as Phanes entered leading his friend by the hand, the

heartiest welcome met him from all sides; one of the Milesians indeed

exclaimed: "Now I see what it is that was wanting to our assembly. There

can be no merriment without Phanes."

And Philoinus, the Sybarite, raising his deep voice, but not allowing

himself for a moment to be disturbed in his repose, remarked: "Mirth

is a good thing, and if you bring that with you, be welcome to me also,

Athenian."

"To me," said Rhodopis, turning to her new guests, "you are heartily

welcome, but not more in your joy than if borne down by sadness. I know

no greater pleasure than to remove the lines of care from a friend's

brow. Spartan, I venture to address you as a friend too, for the friends

of my friends are my own." Aristomachus bowed in silence, but Phanes,

addressing himself both to Rhodopis and to the Sybarite, answered: "Well

then, my friends, I can content you both. To you, Rhodopis, I must

come for comfort, for soon, too soon I must leave you and your pleasant

house; Philoinus however can still enjoy my mirth, as I cannot but

rejoice in the prospect of seeing my beloved Hellas once more, and

of quitting, even though involuntarily, this golden mouse-trap of a

country."

"You are going away! you have been dismissed? Whither are you going?"

echoed on all sides.

"Patience, patience, my friends," cried Phanes. "I have a long story

to tell, but I will rather reserve it for the evening meal. And indeed,

dear friend, my hunger is nearly as great as my distress at being

obliged to leave you."

"Hunger is a good thing," philosophized the Sybarite once more, "when a

man has a good meal in prospect."

"On that point you may be at ease, Philoinus," answered Rhodopis. "I

told the cook to do his utmost, for the most celebrated epicure from

the most luxurious city in the world, no less a person than Philoinus

of Sybaris, would pass a stern judgment on his delicate dishes.

Go, Knakias, tell them to serve the supper. Are you content now, my

impatient guests? As for me, since I heard Phanes' mournful news, the

pleasure of the meal is gone." The Athenian bowed, and the Sybarite

returned to his philosophy. "Contentment is a good thing when every wish

can be satisfied. I owe you thanks, Rhodopis, for your appreciation of

my incomparable native city. What says Anakreon?

"To-day is ours--what do we fear?

To-day is ours--we have it here.

Let's treat it kindly, that it may

Wish at least with us to stay.

Let's banish business, banish sorrow;

To the gods belongs to-morrow."

"Eh! Ibykus, have I quoted your friend the poet correctly, who feasts

with you at Polykrates' banquets? Well, I think I may venture to say of

my own poor self that if Anakreon can make better verses, I understand

the art of living quite as well as he, though he writes so many poems

upon it. Why, in all his songs there is not one word about the pleasures

of the table! Surely they are as important as love and play! I confess

that the two last are clear to me also; still, I could exist without

them, though in a miserable fashion, but without food, where should we

be?"

The Sybarite broke into a loud laugh at his own joke; but the Spartan

turned away from this conversation, drew Phryxus into a corner, and

quite abandoning his usually quiet and deliberate manner, asked eagerly

whether he had at last brought him the long wished for answer from the

Oracle. The serious features of the Delphian relaxed, and thrusting

his hand into the folds of his chiton,--[An undergarment resembling a

shirt.]--he drew out a little roll of parchment-like sheepskin, on which

a few lines were written.

The hands of the brave, strong Spartan trembled as he seized the roll,

and his fixed gaze on its characters was as if it would pierce the skin

on which they were inscribed.

Then, recollecting himself, he shook his head sadly and said: "We

Spartans have to learn other arts than reading and writing; if thou

canst, read the what Pythia says."

The Delphian glanced over the writing and replied: "Rejoice! Loxias

(Apollo) promises thee a happy return home; hearken to the prediction of

the priestess."

"If once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending

Come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain,

Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee

Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford.

When those warriors come, from the snow-topped mountains descending,

Then will the powerful Five grant thee what long they refused."

To these words the Spartan listened with intense eagerness; he had them

read over to him twice, then repeated them from memory, thanked Phryxus,

and placed the roll within the folds of his garment.

The Delphian then took part in the general conversation, but

Aristomachus repeated the words of the Oracle unceasingly to himself in

a low voice, endeavoring to impress them on his memory, and to interpret

their obscure import.

CHAPTER II.

The doors of the supper-room now flew open. Two lovely, fair-haired

boys, holding myrtle-wreaths, stood on each side of the entrance, and

in the middle of the room was a large, low, brilliantly polished table,

surrounded by inviting purple cushions.

[It was most probably usual for each guest to have his own little

table; but we read even in Homer of large tables on which the meals

were served up. In the time of Homer people sat at table, but the

recumbent position became universal in later times.]

Rich nosegays adorned this table, and on it were placed large joints

of roast meat, glasses and dishes of various shapes filled with dates,

figs, pomegranates, melons and grapes, little silver beehives containing

honey, and plates of embossed copper, on which lay delicate cheese

from the island of Trinakria. In the midst was a silver table-ornament,

something similar to an altar, from which arose fragrant clouds of

incense.

At the extreme end of the table stood the glittering silver cup in which

the wine was to be mixed.

[The Greeks were not accustomed to drink unmingled wine. Zaleukus

forbade to all citizens the pure juice of the grape under penalty of

death, and Solon under very severe penalties, unless required as

medicine. The usual mixture was composed of three-fifths water to

two-fifths wine.]

This was of beautiful AEginetan workmanship, its crooked handles

representing two giants, who appeared ready to sink under the weight of

the bowl which they sustained.

Like the altar, it was enwreathed with flowers, and a garland of roses

or myrtle had been twined around the goblet of each guest.

The entire floor was strewed with rose-leaves, and the room lighted by

many lamps which were hung against the smooth, white, stucco walls.

No sooner were the guests reclining on their cushions, than the

fair-haired boys reappeared, wound garlands of ivy and myrtle around the

heads and shoulders of the revellers, and washed their feet in silver

basins. The Sybarite, though already scented with all the perfumes of

Arabia, would not rest until he was completely enveloped in roses and

myrtle, and continued to occupy the two boys even after the carver had

removed the first joints from the table in order to cut them up; but

as soon as the first course, tunny-fish with mustard-sauce, had been

served, he forgot all subordinate matters, and became absorbed in the

enjoyment of the delicious viands.

Rhodopis, seated on a chair at the head of the table, near the

wine-bowl, not only led the conversation, but gave directions to the

slaves in waiting.

[The women took their meals sitting. The Greeks, like the

Egyptians, had chairs with backs and arms. The form of the solia or

throne has become familiar to us from the discoveries at Pompeii and

the representations of many gods and distinguished persons. It had

a high, almost straight back, and supports for the arms.]

She gazed on her cheerful guests with a kind of pride, and seemed to be

devoting her attention to each exclusively, now asking the Delphian

how he had succeeded in his mission, then the Sybarite whether he was

content with the performances of her cook, and then listening eagerly

to Ibykus, as he told how the Athenian, Phrynichus, had introduced the

religious dramas of Thespis of Ikaria into common life, and was now

representing entire histories from the past by means of choruses,

recitative and answer.

Then she turned to the Spartan, remarking, that to him alone of all her

guests, instead of an apology for the simplicity of the meal, she felt

she owed one for its luxury. The next time he came, her slave Knakias,

who, as an escaped Helot, boasted that he could cook a delicious

blood-soup (here the Sybarite shuddered), should prepare him a true

Lacedaemonian repast.

When the guests had eaten sufficiently they again washed their hands;

the plates and dishes were removed, the floor cleansed, and wine and

water poured into the bowl.

[The Symposium began after the real meal. Not till that was over

did the guests usually adorn themselves with wreaths, wash their

hands with Smegma or Smema (a kind of soap) and begin to drink.]

At last, when Rhodopis had convinced herself that the right moment was

come, she turned to Phanes, who was engaged in a discussion with the

Milesians, and thus addressed him:

"Noble friend, we have restrained our impatience so long that it must

surely now be your duty to tell us what evil chance is threatening to

snatch you from Egypt and from our circle. You may be able to leave us

and this country with a light heart, for the gods are wont to bless

you Ionians with that precious gift from your very birth, but we shall

remember you long and sadly. I know of no worse loss than that of a

friend tried through years, indeed some of us have lived too long on the

Nile not to have imbibed a little of the constant, unchanging Egyptian

temperament. You smile, and yet I feel sure that long as you have

desired to revisit your dear Hellas, you will not be able to leave us

quite without regret. Ah, you admit this? Well, I knew I had not been

deceived. But now tell us why you are obliged to leave Egypt, that we

may consider whether it may not be possible to get the king's decree

reversed, and so keep you with us."

Phanes smiled bitterly, and replied: "Many thanks, Rhodopis, for these

flattering words, and for the kind intention either to grieve over my

departure, or if possible, to prevent it. A hundred new faces will soon

help you to forget mine, for long as you have lived on the Nile, you are

still a Greek from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, and

may thank the gods that you have remained so. I am a great friend of

constancy too, but quite as great an enemy of folly, and is there

one among you who would not call it folly to fret over what cannot be

undone? I cannot call the Egyptian constancy a virtue, it is a delusion.

The men who treasure their dead for thousands of years, and would rather

lose their last loaf than allow a single bone belonging to one of their

ancestors to be taken from them, are not constant, they are foolish. Can

it possibly make me happy to see my friends sad? Certainly not! You must

not imitate the Egyptians, who, when they lose a friend, spend months

in daily-repeated lamentations over him. On the contrary, if you will

sometimes think of the distant, I ought to say, of the departed, friend,

(for as long as I live I shall never be permitted to tread Egyptian

ground again), let it be with smiling faces; do not cry, 'Ah! why was

Phanes forced to leave us?' but rather, 'Let us be merry, as Phanes used

to be when he made one of our circle!' In this way you must celebrate my

departure, as Simonides enjoined when he sang:

"If we would only be more truly wise,

We should not waste on death our tears and sighs,

Nor stand and mourn o'er cold and lifeless clay

More than one day.

For Death, alas! we have no lack of time;

But Life is gone, when scarcely at its prime,

And is e'en, when not overfill'd with care

But short and bare!"

"If we are not to weep for the dead, how much less ought we to grieve

for absent friends! the former have left us for ever, but to the latter

we say at parting, 'Farewell, until we meet again'"

Here the Sybarite, who had been gradually becoming more and more

impatient, could not keep silent any longer, and called out in the most

woe begone tone: "Will you never begin your story, you malicious fellow?

I cannot drink a single drop till you leave off talking about death. I

feel cold already, and I am always ill, if I only think of, nay, if I

only hear the subject mentioned, that this life cannot last forever."

The whole company burst into a laugh, and Phanes began to tell his

story:

"You know that at Sais I always live in the new palace; but at Memphis,

as commander of the Greek body-guard which must accompany the king

everywhere, a lodging was assigned me in the left wing of the old

palace.

"Since Psamtik the First, Sais has always been the royal residence,

and the other palaces have in consequence become somewhat neglected. My

dwelling was really splendidly situated, and beautifully furnished; it

would have been first-rate, if, from the first moment of my entrance, a

fearful annoyance had not made its appearance.

"In the day-time, when I was seldom at home, my rooms were all that

could be wished, but at night it was impossible to sleep for the

tremendous noise made by thousands of rats and mice under the old

floors, and couches, and behind the hangings.

"Even in the first night an impudent mouse ran over my face.

"I was quite at a loss what to do, till an Egyptian soldier sold me two

large cats, and these, in the course of many weeks, procured me some

rest from my tormentors.

"Now, you are probably all aware that one of the charming laws of this

most eccentric nation, (whose culture and wisdom, you, my Milesian

friends, cannot sufficiently praise), declares the cat to be a sacred

animal. Divine honors are paid to these fortunate quadrupeds as well as

to many other animals, and he who kills a cat is punished with the same

severity as the murderer of a human being."

Till now Rhodopis had been smiling, but when she perceived that Phanes'

banishment had to do with his contempt for the sacred animals, her face

became more serious. She knew how many victims, how many human lives,

had already been sacrificed to this Egyptian superstition, and how, only

a short time before, the king Amasis himself had endeavored in vain to

rescue an unfortunate Samian, who had killed a cat, from the vengeance

of the enraged populace.

[The cat was probably the most sacred of all the animals worshipped

by the Egyptians. Herod tells that when a house was on fire the

Egyptians never thought of extinguishing the fire until their cats

were all saved, and that when a cat died, they shaved their heads in

sign of mourning. Whoever killed one of these animals, whether

intentionally or by accident, suffered the penalty, of death,

without any chance of mercy. Diod. (I. 81.) himself witnessed the

murder of a Roman citizen who had killed a cat, by the Egyptian

people; and this in spite of the authorities, who in fear of the

powerful Romans, endeavored to prevent the deed. The bodies of the

cats were carefully embalmed and buried, and their mummies are to be

found in every museum. The embalmed cat, carefully wrapped in linen

bandages, is oftener to be met with than any other of the many

animals thus preserved by the Egyptians. In spite of the great care

bestowed on cats, there can have been no lack of mice in Egypt. In

one nomos or province the shrew-mouse was sacred, and a satirical,

obscene papyrus in Turin shows us a war between the cats and mice;

the Papyrus Ebers contains poisons for mice. We ourselves possess a

shrew-mouse exquisitely wrought in bronze.]

"Everything was going well," continued the officer, "when we left

Memphis two years ago.

"I confided my pair of cats to the care of one of the Egyptian servants

at the palace, feeling sure that these enemies of the rats would keep

my dwelling clear for the future; indeed I began to feel a certain

veneration for my deliverers from the plague of mice.

"Last year Amasis fell ill before the court could adjourn to Memphis,

and we remained at Sais.

"At last, about six week ago, we set out for the city of the Pyramids. I

betook me to my old quarters; not the shadow of a mouse's tail was to be

seen there, but instead, they swarmed with another race of animals not

one whit dearer to me than their predecessors. The pair of cats had,

during my two years' absence, increased twelve-fold. I tried all in my

power to dislodge this burdensome brood of all ages and colors, but

in vain; every night my sleep was disturbed by horrible choruses of

four-footed animals, and feline war-cries and songs.

"Every year, at the period of the Bubastis festival, all superfluous

cats may be brought to the temple of the cat-headed goddess Pacht, where

they are fed and cared for, or, as I believe, when they multiply too

fast, quietly put out of the way. These priests are knaves!

"Unfortunately the journey to the said temple" did not occur during the

time of our stay in Memphis; however, as I really could not tolerate

this army of tormentors any longer, I determined at least to get rid

of two families of healthy kittens with which their mothers had just

presented me. My old slave Mus, from his very name a natural enemy of

cats, was told to kill the little creatures, put them into a sack, and

throw them into the Nile.

"This murder was necessary, as the mewing of the kittens would otherwise

have betrayed the contents of the sack to the palace-warders. In the

twilight poor Muss betook himself to the Nile through the grove of

Hathor, with his perilous burden. But alas! the Egyptian attendant who

was in the habit of feeding my cats, had noticed that two families of

kittens were missing, and had seen through our whole plan.

"My slave took his way composedly through the great avenue of Sphinxes,

and by the temple of Ptah, holding the little bag concealed under

his mantle. Already in the sacred grove he noticed that he was being

followed, but on seeing that the men behind him stopped before the

temple of Ptah and entered into conversation with the priests, he felt

perfectly reassured and went on.

"He had already reached the bank of the Nile, when he heard voices

calling him and a number of people running towards him in haste; at the

same moment a stone whistled close by his head.

"Mus at once perceived the danger which was threatening him. Summoning

all his strength he rushed down to the Nile, flung the bag in, and then

with a beating heart, but as he imagined without the slightest evidence

of guilt, remained standing on the shore. A few moments later he was

surrounded by at least a hundred priests.

"Even the high-priest of Ptah, my old enemy Ptahotep, had not disdained

to follow the pursuers in person.

"Many of the latter, and amongst them the perfidious palace-servant,

rushed at once into the Nile, and there, to our confusion, found the

bag with its twelve little corpses, hanging entirely uninjured among the

Papyrus-reeds and bean-tendrils. The cotton coffin was opened before

the eyes of the high-priest, a troop of lower priests, and at least a

thousand of the inhabitants of Memphis, who had hurried to the spot,

and when the miserable contents were disclosed, there arose such fearful

howls of anguish, and such horrible cries of mingled lamentation and

revenge, that I heard them even in the palace.

"The furious multitude, in their wild rage, fell on my poor servant,

threw him down, trampled on him and would have killed him, had not

the all-powerful high-priest-designing to involve me, as author of the

crime, in the same ruin--commanded them to cease and take the wretched

malefactor to prison.

"Half an hour later I was in prison too.

"My old Mus took all the guilt of the crime on himself, until at last,

by means of the bastinado, the high-priest forced him to confess that

I had ordered the killing of the kittens, and that he, as a faithful

servant, had not dared to disobey.

"The supreme court of justice, whose decisions the king himself has no

power to reverse, is composed of priests from Memphis, Heliopolis and

Thebes: you can therefore easily believe that they had no scruple in

pronouncing sentence of death on poor Mus and my own unworthy Greek

self. The slave was pronounced guilty of two capital offences: first,

of the murder of the sacred animals, and secondly, of a twelve-fold

pollution of the Nile through dead bodies. I was condemned as originator

of this, (as they termed it) four-and-twenty-fold crime.

[According to the Egyptian law, the man who was cognizant of a crime

was held equally culpable with the perpetrator.]

"Mus was executed on the same day. May the earth rest lightly on him!

I shall never think of him again as my slave, but as a friend and

benefactor! My sentence of death was read aloud in the presence of

his dead body, and I was already preparing for a long journey into the

nether world, when the king sent and commanded a reprieve.

[This court of justice, which may be compared with the Areopagus at

Athens, and the Gerusia at Sparta, (Diod. I, 75.), was composed of

30 judges taken from the priestly caste, (10 from Heliopolis, 10

from Memphis, 10 from Thebes). The most eminent from among their

number was chosen by them as president. All complaints and defences

had to be presented in writing, that the judges might in no way be

influenced by word or gesture. This tribunal was independent, even

of the king's authority. Much information concerning the

administration of justice has been obtained from the Papyrus Abbott,

known by the name of the 'Papyrus judiciaire'. Particulars and an

account of their literature may be found in Ebers "Durch Gosen zum

Sinai," p. 534 and following.]

"I was taken back to prison. One of my guards, an Arcadian Taxiarch,

told me that all the officers of the guard and many of the soldiers,

(altogether four thousand men) had threatened to send in their

resignation, unless I, their commander, were pardoned.

"As it was beginning to grow dusk I was taken to the king.

"He received me graciously, confirmed the Taxiarch's statement with

his own mouth, and said how grieved he should be to lose a commander so

generally beloved. I must confess that I owe Amasis no grudge for his

conduct to me, on the contrary I pity him. You should have heard how he,

the powerful king, complained that he could never act according to his

own wishes, that even in his most private affairs he was crossed and

compromised by the priests and their influence.

[See the parallel in the history of 2000 years later in the reigns

of Henry III. and IV. confronting the Jesuit influence, finally

culminating in assassination. D.W.]

"Had it only depended on himself, he could easily have pardoned the

transgression of a law, which I, as a foreigner, could not be expected

to understand, and might (though unjustly) esteem as a foolish

superstition. But for the sake of the priests he dare not leave me

unpunished. The lightest penalty he could inflict must be banishment

from Egypt.

"He concluded his complaint with these words: 'You little know what

concessions I must make to the priests in order to obtain your pardon.

Why, our supreme court of justice is independent even of me, its king!'

"And thus I received my dismissal, after having taken a solemn oath to

leave Memphis that very day, and Egypt, at latest, in three weeks.

"At the palace-gate I met Psamtik, the crown-prince. He has long been my

enemy, on account of some vexatious matters which I cannot divulge, (you

know them, Rhodopis). I was going to offer him my parting salutation,

but he turned his back upon me, saying: Once more you have escaped

punishment, Athenian; but you cannot elude my vengeance. Whithersoever

you may go, I shall be able to find you!'--'That remains to be proved,'

I answered, and putting myself and my possessions on board a boat, came

to Naukratis. Here, by good fortune, I met my old friend Aristomachus of

Sparta, who, as he was formerly in command of the Cyprian troops, will

most likely be nominated my successor. I should rejoice to know that

such a first-rate man was going to take my place, if I did not at the

same time fear that his eminent services will make my own poor efforts

seem even more insignificant than they really were."

But here he was interrupted by Aristomachus, who called out: "Praise

enough, friend Phanes! Spartan tongues are stiff; but if you should

ever stand in need of my help, I will give you an answer in deeds, which

shall strike the right nail on the head."

Rhodopis smiled her approval, and giving her hand to each, said:

"Unfortunately, the only conclusion to be drawn from your story, my poor

Phanes, is that you cannot possibly remain any longer in this country. I

will not blame you for your thoughtlessness, though you might have known

that you were exposing yourself to great danger for a mere trifle.

The really wise and brave man never undertakes a hazardous enterprise,

unless the possible advantage and disadvantage that may accrue to him

from it can be reckoned at least as equal. Recklessness is quite as

foolish, but not so blamable as cowardice, for though both do the man an

injury, the latter alone can dishonor him.

"Your thoughtlessness, this time, has very nearly cost your life, a life

dear to many, and which you ought to save for a nobler end. We cannot

attempt to keep you here; we should thereby only injure ourselves

without benefitting you. This noble Spartan must now take your place as

head and representative of the Greek nation at the Egyptian court, must

endeavor to protect us against the encroachment of the priests, and to

retain for us the royal favor. I take your hand, Aristomachus, and

will not let it go till you have promised that you will protect, to the

utmost of your power, every Greek, however humble, (as Phanes did before

you), from the insolence of the Egyptians, and will sooner resign your

office than allow the smallest wrong done to a Hellene to go unpunished.

We are but a few thousands among millions of enemies, but through

courage we are great, and unity must keep us strong. Hitherto the Greeks

in Egypt have lived like brothers; each has been ready to offer himself

for the good of all, and all for each, and it is just this unity that

has made us, and must keep us, powerful.

"Oh! could we but bestow this precious gift on our mother-country and

her colonies! would the tribes of our native land but forget their

Dorian, Ionian or AEolian descent, and, contenting themselves with the

one name of Hellenes, live as the children of one family, as the sheep

of one flock,--then indeed we should be strong against the whole world,

and Hellas would be recognized by all nations as the Queen of the

Earth!"

[This longing desire for unity was by no means foreign to the

Greeks, though we seldom hear it expressed. Aristotle, for example,

says VII. 7.: "Were the Hellenes united into one state, they could

command all the barbarous nations."]

A fire glowed in the eyes of the grey-haired woman as she uttered these

words; and the Spartan, grasping her hand impetuously and stamping on

the floor with his wooden leg, cried: "By Zeus, I will not let a hair

of their heads be hurt; but thou, Rhodopis, thou art worthy to have been

born a Spartan woman."

"Or an Athenian," cried Phanes.

"An Ionian," said the Milesians, and the sculptor: "A daughter of the

Samian Geomori--"

"But I am more, far more, than all these," cried the enthusiastic woman.

"I am a Hellene!"

The whole company, even to the Jew and the Syrian, were carried away by

the intense feeling of the moment; the Sybarite alone remained

unmoved, and, with his mouth so full as to render the words almost

unintelligible, said:

"You deserve to be a Sybarite too, Rhodopis, for your roast beef is the

best I have tasted since I left Italy, and your Anthylla wine' relishes

almost as well as Vesuvian or Chian!"

Every one laughed, except the Spartan, who darted a look of indignation

and contempt at the epicure.

In this moment a deep voice, hitherto unknown to us, shouted suddenly

through the window, "A glad greeting to you, my friends!"

"A glad greeting," echoed the chorus of revellers, questioning and

guessing who this late arrival might prove to be.

They had not long to wait, for even before the Sybarite had had time

carefully to test and swallow another mouthful of wine, the speaker,

Kallias, the son of Phaenippus of Athens, was already standing by the

side of Rhodopis. He was a tall thin man of over sixty, with a head of

that oval form which gives the impression of refinement and intellect.

One of the richest among the Athenian exiles, he had twice bought the

possessions of Pisistratus from the state, and twice been obliged to

surrender them, on the tyrant's return to power. Looking round with his

clear keen eyes on this circle of acquaintances, he exchanged friendly

greetings with all, and exclaimed:

"If you do not set a high value on my appearance among you this evening,

I shall think that gratitude has entirely disappeared from the earth."

"We have been expecting you a long time," interrupted one of the

Milesians. "You are the first man to bring us news of the Olympic

games!"

"And we could wish no better bearer of such news than the victor

of former days?" added Rhodopis. "Take your seat," cried Phanes

impatiently, "and come to the point with your news at once, friend

Kallias."

"Immediately, fellow-countryman," answered the other. "It is some time

ago now since I left Olympia. I embarked at Cenchreae in a fifty-oared

Samian vessel, the best ship that ever was built.

"It does not surprise me that I am the first Greek to arrive in

Naukratis. We encountered terrific storms at sea, and could not have

escaped with our lives, if the big-bellied Samian galley, with her Ibis

beak and fish's tail had not been so splendidly timbered and manned.

"How far the other homeward-bound passengers may have been driven out

of their course, I cannot tell; we found shelter in the harbor of Samos,

and were able to put to sea again after ten days.

"We ran into the mouth of the Nile this morning. I went on board my own

bark at once, and was so favored by Boreas, who at least at the end of

my voyage, seemed willing to prove that he still felt kindly towards his

old Kallias, that I caught sight of this most friendly of all houses a

few moments since. I saw the waving flag, the brightly lighted windows,

and debated within myself whether to enter or not; but Rhodopis, your

fascination proved irresistible, and besides, I was bursting with all

my untold news, longing to share your feast, and to tell you, over the

viands and the wine, things that you have not even allowed yourselves to

dream of."

Kallias settled himself comfortably on one of the cushions, and before

beginning to tell his news, produced and presented to Rhodopis a

magnificent gold bracelet in the form of a serpent's, which he had

bought for a large sum at Samos, in the goldsmith's workshop of the very

Theodorus who was now sitting with him at table.

"This I have brought for you,"' he said, turning to the delighted

Rhodopis, "but for you, friend Phanes, I have something still better.

Guess, who won the four-horse chariot-race?"

"An Athenian?" asked Phanes, and his face glowed with excitement; for

the victory gained by one citizen at the Olympic games belonged to his

whole people, and the Olympic olive-branch was the greatest honor and

happiness that could fall to the lot, either of a single Hellene, or an

entire Greek tribe.

"Rightly guessed, Phanes!" cried the bringer of this joyful news, "The

first prize has been carried off by an Athenian; and not only so, your

own cousin Cimon, the son of Kypselos, the brother of that Miltiades,

who, nine Olympiads ago, earned us the same honor, is the man who has

conquered this year; and with the same steeds that gained him the prize

at the last games.

[The second triumph won by the steeds of Cimon must have taken

place, as Duneker correctly remarks, about the year 528. The same

horses won the race for the third time at the next Olympic games,

consequently four years later. As token of his gratitude Cimon

caused a monument to be erected in their honor in "the hollow way"

near Athens. We may here remind our readers that the Greeks made

use of the Olympic games to determine the date of each year. They

took place every four years. The first was fixed 776 B. C. Each

separate year was named the 1st, 2nd, 3rd or 4th of such or such an

Olympiad.]

"The fame of the Alkmaeonidae is, verily, darkening more and more before

the Philaidae. Are not you proud, Phanes? do not you feel joy at the

glory of your family?"

In his delight Phanes had risen from his seat, and seemed suddenly to

have increased in stature by a whole head.

With a look of ineffable pride and consciousness of his own position,

he gave his hand to the messenger of victory. The latter, embracing his

countryman, continued:

"Yes, we have a right to feel proud and happy, Phanes; you especially,

for no sooner had the judges unanimously awarded the prize to Cimon,

than he ordered the heralds to proclaim the tyrant Pisistratus as

the owner of the splendid team, and therefore victor in the race.

Pisistratus at once caused it to be announced that your family was free

to return to Athens, and so now, Phanes, the long-wished for hour of

your return home is awaiting you."

But at these words Phanes turned pale, his look of conscious pride

changed into one of indignation, and he exclaimed:

"At this I am to rejoice, foolish Kallias? rather bid me weep that a

descendant of Ajax should be capable of laying his well-won fame thus

ignominiously at a tyrant's feet! No! I swear by Athene, by Father Zeus,

and by Apollo, that I will sooner starve in foreign lands than take one

step homeward, so long as the Pisistratidae hold my country in bondage.

When I leave the service of Amasis, I shall be free, free as a bird in

the air; but I would rather be the slave of a peasant in foreign lands,

than hold the highest office under Pisistratus. The sovereign power in

Athens belongs to us, its nobles; but Cimon by laying his chaplet at the

feet of Pisistratus has acknowledged the tyrants, and branded himself as

their servant. He shall hear that Phanes cares little for the tyrant's

clemency. I choose to remain an exile till my country is free, till her

nobles and people govern themselves, and dictate their own laws. Phanes

will never do homage to the oppressor, though all the Philaidae, the

Alkmaeonidae, and even the men of your own house, Kallias, the rich

Daduchi, should fall down at his feet!"

With flashing eyes he looked round on the assembly; Kallias too

scrutinized the faces of the guests with conscious pride, as if he would

say:

"See, friends, the kind of men produced by my glorious country!"

Taking the hand of Phanes again, he said to him: "The tyrants are as

hateful to me as to you, my friend; but I have seen, that, so long

as Pisistratus lives, the tyranny cannot be overthrown. His allies,

Lygdamis of Naxos and Polykrates of Samos, are powerful; but the

greatest danger for our freedom lies in his own moderation and prudence.

During my recent stay in Greece I saw with alarm that the mass of the

people in Athens love their oppressor like a father. Notwithstanding

his great power, he leaves the commonwealth in the enjoyment of Solon's

constitution. He adorns the city with the most magnificent buildings.

They say that the new temple of Zeus, now being built of glorious marble

by Kallaeschrus, Antistates and Porinus (who must be known to you,

Theodorus), will surpass every building that has yet been erected by the

Hellenes. He understands how to attract poets and artists of all kinds

to Athens, he has had the poems of Homer put into writing, and the

prophecies of Musaeus collected by Onomakritus. He lays out new streets

and arranges fresh festivals; trade flourishes under his rule, and the

people find themselves well off, in spite of the many taxes laid upon

them. But what are the people? a vulgar multitude who, like the gnats,

fly towards every thing brilliant, and, so long as the taper burns, will

continue to flutter round it, even though they burn their wings in doing

so. Let Pisistratus' torch burn out, Phanes, and I'll swear that the

fickle crowd will flock around the returning nobles, the new light, just

as they now do around the tyrant.

"Give me your hand once more, you true son of Ajax; for you, my friends,

I have still many an interesting piece of news untold.

"The chariot-race, as I have just related, was won by Cimon who gave

the olive-branch to Pisistratus. Four finer horses than his I never

saw. Arkesilaus of Cyrene, Kleosthenes of Epidamnus, Aster of Sybaris,

Hekataeus of Miletus and many more had also sent splendid teams. Indeed

the games this time were more than brilliant. All Hellas had sent

deputies. Rhoda of the Ardeates, in distant Iberia, the wealthy

Tartessus, Sinope in the far East on the shores of Pontus, in short,

every tribe that could boast of Hellenic descent was well represented.

The Sybarite deputies were of a dazzling beauty; the Spartans, homely

and simple, but handsome as Achilles, tall and strong as Hercules; the

Athenians remarkable for their supple limbs and graceful movements,

and the men of Crotona were led by Milo, strongest of mortal birth. The

Samian and Milesian deputies vied in splendor and gorgeousness of attire

with those from Corinth and Mitylene: the flower of the Greek youth was

assembled there, and, in the space allotted to spectators, were seated,

not only men of every age, class and nation, but many virgins, fair and

lovely maidens, who had come to Olympia, more especially from Sparta,

in order to encourage the men during the games by their acclamations and

applause. The market was set up beyond the Alphaeus, and there traders

from all parts of the world were to be seen; Greeks, Carthaginians,

Lydians, Phrygians and shrewd Phoenicians from Palestine settled weighty

business transactions, or offered their goods to the public from tents

and booths. But how can I possibly describe to you the surging throngs

of the populace, the echoing choruses, the smoking festal hecatombs, the

bright and variegated costumes, the sumptuousness of the equipages, the

clang of the different dialects and the joyful cries of friends meeting

again after years of separation; or the splendid appearance of the

envoys, the crowds of lookers-on and venders of small wares, the

brilliant effect produced by the masses of spectators, who filled to

overflowing the space allotted to them, the eager suspense during the

progress of the games, and the never ending shouts of joy when the

victory was decided; the solemn investiture with the olive-branch,

cut with a golden knife by the Elean boy, (whose parents must both be

living), from the sacred tree in the Altis planted so many centuries ago

by Hercules himself; or lastly, the prolonged acclamations which,

like peals of thunder, resounded in the Stadium, when Milo of Crotona

appeared, bearing on his shoulders the bronze statue of himself cast by

Dameas, and carried it through the Stadium into the Altis without once

tottering. The weight of the metal would have crushed a bull to the

earth: but borne by Milo it seemed like a child in the arms of its

Lacedaemonian nurse.

"The highest honors (after Cimon's) were adjudged to a pair of Spartan

brothers, Lysander and Maro, the sons of Aristomachus. Maro was victor

in the foot race, but Lysander presented himself, amidst the shouts of

the spectators, as the opponent of Milo! Milo the invincible, victor

at Pisa, and in the Pythian and Isthmian combats. Milo was taller and

stouter than the Spartan, who was formed like Apollo, and seemed from

his great youth scarcely to have passed from under the hands of the

schoolmaster.

"In their naked beauty, glistening with the golden oil, the youth

and the man stood opposite to one another, like a panther and a lion

preparing for the combat. Before the onset, the young Lysander raised

his hands imploringly to the gods, crying: 'For my father, my honor,

and the glory of Sparta!' The Crotonian looked down on the youth with

a smile of superiority; just as an epicure looks at the shell of the

languste he is preparing to open.

"And now the wrestling began. For some time neither could succeed in

grasping the other. The Crotonian threw almost irresistible weight into

his attempts to lay hold of his opponent, but the latter slipped through

the iron grip like a snake. This struggle to gain a hold lasted long,

and the immense multitude watched silently, breathless from excitement.

Not a sound was to be heard but the groans of the wrestlers and the

singing of the nightingales in the grove of the Altis. At last, the

youth succeeded, by means of the cleverest trick I ever saw, in clasping

his opponent firmly. For a long time, Milo exerted all his strength

to shake him oft, but in vain, and the sand of the Stadium was freely

moistened by the great drops of sweat, the result of this Herculean

struggle.

"More and more intense waxed the excitement of the spectators, deeper

and deeper the silence, rarer the cries of encouragement, and louder

the groans of the wrestlers. At last Lysander's strength gave way.

Immediately a thousand voices burst forth to cheer him on. He roused

himself and made one last superhuman effort to throw his adversary:

but it was too late. Milo had perceived the momentary weakness. Taking

advantage of it, he clasped the youth in a deadly embrace; a full black

stream of blood welled from Lysander's beautiful lips, and he sank

lifeless to the earth from the wearied arms of the giant. Democedes, the

most celebrated physician of our day, whom you Samians will have known

at the court of Polycrates, hastened to the spot, but no skill could now

avail the happy Lysander,--he was dead.

"Milo was obliged to forego the victor's wreath"; and the fame of this

youth will long continue to sound through the whole of Greece.

[By the laws of the games the wrestler, whose adversary died, had no

right to the prize of victory.]

I myself would rather be the dead Lysander, son of Aristomachus, than

the living Kallias growing old in inaction away from his country.

Greece, represented by her best and bravest, carried the youth to his

grave, and his statue is to be placed in the Altis by those of Milo of

Crotona and Praxidamas of AEgina". At length the heralds proclaimed the

sentence of the judges: 'To Sparta be awarded a victor's wreath for the

dead, for the noble Lysander hath been vanquished, not by Milo, but by

Death, and he who could go forth unconquered from a two hours' struggle

with the strongest of all Greeks, hath well deserved the olive-branch.'"

Here Kallias stopped a moment in his narrative. During his animated

description of these events, so precious to every Greek heart, he had

forgotten his listeners, and, gazing into vacancy, had seen only the

figures of the wrestlers as they rose before his remembrance. Now, on

looking round, he perceived, to his astonishment, that the grey-haired

man with the wooden leg, whom he had already noticed, though without

recognizing him, had hidden his face in his hands and was weeping.

Rhodopis was standing at his right hand. Phanes at his left, and the

other guests were gazing at the Spartan, as if he had been the hero of

Kallias's tale. In a moment the quick Athenian perceived that the aged

man must stand in some very near relation to one or other of the victors

at Olympia; but when he heard that he was Aristomachus-the father of

that glorious pair of brothers, whose wondrous forms were constantly

hovering before his eyes like visions sent down from the abodes of the

gods, then he too gazed on the sobbing old man with mingled envy and

admiration, and made no effort to restrain the tears which rushed into

his own eyes, usually so clear and keen. In those days men wept, as well

as women, hoping to gain relief from the balm of their own tears. In

wrath, in ecstasy of delight, in every deep inward anguish, we find the

mighty heroes weeping, while, on the other hand, the Spartan boys would

submit to be scourged at the altar of Artemis Orthia, and would bleed

and even die under the lash without uttering a moan, in order to obtain

the praise of the men.

For a time every one remained silent, out of respect to the old man's

emotion. But at last the stillness was broken by Joshua the Jew, who

began thus, in broken Greek:

"Weep thy fill, O man of Sparta! I also have known what it is to lose

a son. Eleven years have passed since I buried him in the land of

strangers, by the waters of Babylon, where my people pined in captivity.

Had yet one year been added unto the life of the beautiful child, he

had died in his own land, and had been buried in the sepulchres of his

fathers. But Cyrus the Persian (Jehovah bless his posterity!) released

us from bondage one year too late, and therefore do I weep doubly for

this my son, in that he is buried among the enemies of my people Israel.

Can there be an evil greater than to behold our children, who are unto

us as most precious treasure, go down into the grave before us? And, may

the Lord be gracious unto me, to lose so noble a son, in the dawn of his

early manhood, just at the moment he had won such brilliant renown, must

indeed be a bitter grief, a grief beyond all others!"

Then the Spartan took away his hands from before his face; he was

looking stern, but smiled through his tears, and answered:

"Phoenician, you err! I weep not for anguish, but for joy, and would

have gladly lost my other son, if he could have died like my Lysander."

The Jew, horrified at these, to him, sinful and unnatural words, shook

his head disapprovingly; but the Greeks overwhelmed the old man with

congratulations, deeming him much to be envied. His great happiness

made Aristomachus look younger by many years, and he cried to Rhodopis:

"Truly, my friend, your house is for me a house of blessing; for this

is the second gift that the gods have allowed to fall to my lot, since

I entered it."--"What was the first?" asked Rhodopis. "A propitious

oracle."--"But," cried Phanes, "you have forgotten the third; on this

day the gods have blessed you with the acquaintance of Rhodopis. But,

tell me, what is this about the oracle?"--"May I repeat it to our

friends?" asked the Delphian.

Aristomachus nodded assent, and Phryxus read aloud a second time the

answer of the Pythia:

"If once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending

Come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain,

Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee

Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford.

When those warriors come from the snow-topped mountains descending

Then will the powerful Five grant thee what they long refused."

Scarcely was the last word out of his mouth, when Kallias the Athenian,

springing up, cried: "In this house, too, you shall receive from me the

fourth gift of the gods. Know that I have kept my rarest news till last:

the Persians are coming to Egypt!"

At this every one, except the Sybarite, rushed to his feet, and Kallias

found it almost impossible to answer their numerous questions. "Gently,

gently, friends," he cried at last; "let me tell my story in order, or

I shall never finish it at all. It is not an army, as Phanes supposes,

that is on its way hither, but a great embassy from Cambyses, the

present ruler of the most powerful kingdom of Persia. At Samos I heard

that they had already reached Miletus, and in a few days they will be

here. Some of the king's own relations, are among the number, the aged

Croesus, king of Lydia, too; we shall behold a marvellous splendor

and magnificence! Nobody knows the object of their coming, but it is

supposed that King Cambyses wishes to conclude an alliance with Amasis;

indeed some say the king solicits the hand of Pharaoh's daughter."

"An alliance?" asked Phanes, with an incredulous shrug of the shoulders.

"Why the Persians are rulers over half the world already. All the

great Asiatic powers have submitted to their sceptre; Egypt and our own

mother-country, Hellas, are the only two that have been shared by the

conqueror."

"You forget India with its wealth of gold, and the great migratory

nations of Asia," answered Kallias. "And you forget moreover, that

an empire, composed like Persia of some seventy nations or tribes of

different languages and customs, bears the seeds of discord ever within

itself, and must therefore guard against the chance of foreign attack;

lest, while the bulk of the army be absent, single provinces should

seize the opportunity and revolt from their allegiance. Ask the

Milesians how long they would remain quiet if they heard that their

oppressors had been defeated in any battle?"

Theopompus, the Milesian merchant, called out, laughing at the same

time: "If the Persians were to be worsted in one war, they would at once

be involved in a hundred others, and we should not be the last to rise

up against our tyrants in the hour of their weakness!"

"Whatever the intentions of the envoys may be," continued Kallias, "my

information remains unaltered; they will be here at the latest in three

days."

"And so your oracle will be fulfilled, fortunate Aristomachus!"

exclaimed Rhodopis, "for see, the warrior hosts can only be the

Persians. When they descend to the shores of the Nile, then the powerful

Five,' your Ephori, will change their decision, and you, the father of

two Olympian victors, will be recalled to your native land.

[The five Ephori of Sparta were appointed to represent the absent

kings during the Messenian war. In later days the nobles made use

of the Ephori as a power, which, springing immediately from their

own body, they could oppose to the kingly authority. Being the

highest magistrates in all judicial and educational matters, and in

everything relating to the moral police of the country, the Ephori

soon found means to assert their superiority, and on most occasions

over that of the kings themselves. Every patrician who was past the

age of thirty, had the right to become a candidate yearly for the

office. Aristot. Potit, II. and IV. Laert. Diog. I. 68.]

"Fill the goblets again, Knakias. Let us devote this last cup to the

manes of the glorious Lysander; and then I advise you to depart, for it

is long past midnight, and our pleasure has reached its highest point.

The true host puts an end to the banquet when his guests are feeling

at their best. Serene and agreeable recollections will soon bring you

hither again; whereas there would be little joy in returning to a house

where the remembrance of hours of weakness, the result of pleasure,

would mingle with your future enjoyment." In this her guests agreed,

and Ibykus named her a thorough disciple of Pythagoras, in praise of the

joyous, festive evening.

Every one prepared for departure. The Sybarite, who had been drinking

deeply in order to counteract the very inconvenient amount of feeling

excited by the conversation, rose also, assisted by his slaves, who had

to be called in for this purpose.

While he was being moved from his former comfortable position, he

stammered something about a "breach of hospitality;" but, when

Rhodopis was about to give him her hand at parting, the wine gained the

ascendancy and he exclaimed, "By Hercules, Rhodopis, you get rid of

us as if we were troublesome creditors. It is not my custom to leave a

supper so long as I can stand, still less to be turned out of doors like

a miserable parasite!"

"Hear reason, you immoderate Sybarite," began Rhodopis, endeavoring

with a smile to excuse her proceeding. But these words, in Philoinus'

half-intoxicated mood, only increased his irritation; he burst into a

mocking laugh, and staggering towards the door, shouted: "Immoderate

Sybarite, you call me? good! here you have your answer: Shameless

slave! one can still perceive the traces of what you were in your youth.

Farewell then, slave of Iadmon and Xanthus, freedwoman of Charaxus!"

He had not however finished his sentence, when Aristomachus rushed upon

him, stunned him with a blow of his fist, and carried him off like

a child down to the boat in which his slaves were waiting at the

garden-gate.

CHAPTER III.

The guests were all gone. Their departing mirth and joy had been smitten

down by the drunkard's abusive words, like fresh young corn beneath

a hail storm. Rhodopis was left standing alone in the empty, brightly

decorated (supper-room). Knakias extinguished the colored lamps on

the walls, and a dull, mysterious half-light took the place of their

brilliant rays, falling scantily and gloomily on the piled-up plates and

dishes, the remnants of the meal, and the seats and cushions, pushed out

of their places by the retiring guests. A cold breeze came through the

open door, for the dawn was at hand, and just before sunrise, the air is

generally unpleasantly cool in Egypt. A cold chill struck the limbs of

the aged woman through her light garments. She stood gazing tearlessly

and fixedly into the desolate room, whose walls but a few minutes before

had been echoing with joy and gladness, and it seemed to her that the

deserted guest-chamber must be like her own heart. She felt as if a worm

were gnawing there, and the warm blood congealing into ice.

Lost in these thoughts, she remained standing till at last her old

female slave appeared to light her to her sleeping apartment.

Silently Rhodopis allowed herself to be undressed, and then, as

silently, lifted the curtain which separated a second sleeping apartment

from her own. In the middle of this second room stood a bedstead of

maplewood, and there, on white sheets spread over a mattress of fine

sheep's wool, and protected from the cold by bright blue coverlets's,

lay a graceful, lovely girl asleep; this was Rhodopis' granddaughter,

Sappho. The rounded form and delicate figure seemed to denote one

already in opening maidenhood, but the peaceful, blissful smile could

only belong to a harmless, happy child.

One hand lay under her head, hidden among the thick dark brown hair, the

other clasped unconsciously a little amulet of green stone, which hung

round her neck. Over her closed eyes the long lashes trembled almost

imperceptibly, and a delicate pink flush came and went on the cheek of

the slumberer. The finely-cut nostrils rose and fell with her regular

breathing, and she lay there, a picture of innocence, of peace, smiling

in dreams, and of the slumber that the gods bestow on early youth, when

care has not yet come.

Softly and carefully, crossing the thick carpets on tiptoe, the

grey-haired woman approached, looked with unutterable tenderness into

the smiling, childish face, and, kneeling down silently by the side of

the bed, buried her face in its soft coverings, so that the girl's

hand just came in contact with her hair. Then she wept, and without

intermission; as though she hoped with this flood of tears to wash away

not only her recent humiliation, but with it all other sorrow from her

mind.

At length she rose, breathed a light kiss on the sleeping girl's

forehead, raised her hands in prayer towards heaven, and returned to her

own room, gently and carefully as she had come.

At her own bedside she found the old slave-woman, still waiting for her.

"What do you want so late, Melitta?" said Rhodopis, kindly, under her

breath. "Go to bed; at your age it is not good to remain up late, and

you know that I do not require you any longer. Good night! and do not

come to-morrow until I send for you. I shall not be able to sleep

much to-night, and shall be thankful if the morning brings me a short

repose."

The woman hesitated; it seemed that she had some thing on her mind which

she feared to utter.

"There is something you want to ask me?" said Rhodopis.

Still the old slave hesitated.

"Speak!" said Rhodopis, "speak at once, and quickly."

"I saw you weeping," said the slave-woman, "you seem ill or sad; let me

watch this night by your bedside. Will you not tell me what ails you?

You have often found that to tell a sorrow lightens the heart and

lessens the pain. Then tell me your grief to-day too; it will do you

good, it will bring back peace to your mind."

"No," answered the other, "I cannot utter it." And then she continued,

smiling bitterly: "I have once more experienced that no one, not even a

god, has power to cancel the past of any human being, and that, in this

world, misfortune and disgrace are one and the same. Good night, leave

me; Melitta!"

At noon on the following day, the same boat, which, the evening before,

had carried the Athenian and the Spartan, stopped once more before

Rhodopis' garden.

The sun was shining so brightly, so warmly and genially in the dark blue

Egyptian sky, the air was so pure and light, the beetles were humming so

merrily, the boatmen singing so lustily and happily, the shores of

the Nile bloomed in such gay, variegated beauty, and were so thickly

peopled, the palm-trees, sycamores, bananas and acacias were so

luxuriant in foliage and blossom, and over the whole landscape the

rarest and most glorious gifts seemed to have been poured out with such

divine munificence, that a passer-by must have pronounced it the very

home of joy and gladness, a place from which sadness and sorrow had been

forever banished.

How often we fancy, in passing a quiet village hidden among its

orchards, that this at least must be the abode of peace, and unambitious

contentment! But alas! when we enter the cottages, what do we find?

there, as everywhere else, distress and need, passion and unsatisfied

longing, fear and remorse, pain and misery; and by the side of these,

Ah! how few joys! Who would have imagined on coming to Egypt, that this

luxuriant, laughing sunny land, whose sky is always unclouded, could

possibly produce and nourish men given to bitterness and severity? that

within the charming, hospitable house of the fortunate Rhodopis, covered

and surrounded, as it was, with sweet flowers, a heart could have been

beating in the deepest sadness? And, still more, who among all the

guests of that honored, admired Thracian woman, would have believed

that this sad heart belonged to her? to the gracious, smiling matron,

Rhodopis herself?

She was sitting with Phanes in a shady arbor near the cooling spray of

a fountain. One could see that she had been weeping again, but her face

was beautiful and kind as ever. The Athenian was holding her hand and

trying to comfort her.

Rhodopis listened patiently, and smiled the while; at times her smile

was bitter, at others it gave assent to his words. At last however she

interrupted her well-intentioned friend, by saying:

"Phanes, I thank you. Sooner or later this last disgrace must be

forgotten too. Time is clever in the healing art. If I were weak I

should leave Naukratis and live in retirement for my grandchild alone;

a whole world, believe me, lies slumbering in that young creature. Many

and many a time already I have longed to leave Egypt, and as often have

conquered the wish. Not because I cannot live without the homage of your

sex; of that I have already had more than enough in my life, but because

I feel that I, the slave-girl and the despised woman once, am now

useful, necessary, almost indispensable indeed, to many free and noble

men. Accustomed as I am, to an extended sphere of work, in its nature

resembling a man's, I could not content myself in living for one being

alone, however dear. I should dry up like a plant removed from a rich

soil into the desert, and should leave my grandchild desolate indeed,

three times orphaned, and alone in the world. No! I shall remain in

Egypt.

"Now that you are leaving, I shall be really indispensable to our

friends here. Amasis is old; when Psamtik comes to the throne we shall

have infinitely greater difficulties to contend with than heretofore. I

must remain and fight on in the fore-front of our battle for the freedom

and welfare of the Hellenic race. Let them call my efforts unwomanly if

they will. This is, and shall be, the purpose of my life, a purpose to

which I will remain all the more faithful, because it is one of those

to which a woman rarely dares devote her life. During this last night

of tears I have felt that much, very much of that womanly weakness still

lingers in me which forms at once the happiness and misery of our sex.

To preserve this feminine weakness in my granddaughter, united with

perfect womanly delicacy, has been my first duty; my second to free

myself entirely from it. But a war against one's own nature cannot be

carried on without occasional defeat, even if ultimately successful.

When grief and pain are gaining the upperhand and I am well nigh in

despair, my only help lies in remembering my friend Pythagoras, that

noblest among men, and his words: 'Observe a due proportion in all

things, avoid excessive joy as well as complaining grief, and seek to

keep thy soul in tune and harmony like a well-toned harp.'"

[There is no question that Pythagoras visited Egypt during the reign

of Amasis, probably towards the middle of the 6th century (according

to our reckoning, about 536 B. C.) Herod. II. 81-123. Diod. I. 98.

Rich information about Pythagoras is to be found in the works of the

very learned scholar Roeth, who is however occasionally much too

bold in his conjectures. Pythagoras was the first among Greek

thinkers (speculators). He would not take the name of a wise man or

"sage," but called himself "Philosophos," or a "friend of wisdom."]

"This Pythagorean inward peace, this deep, untroubled calm, I see daily

before me in my Sappho; and struggle to attain it myself, though many a

stroke of fate untunes the chords of my poor heart. I am calm now! You

would hardly believe what power the mere thought of that first of all

thinkers, that calm, deliberate man, whose life acted on mine like

sweet, soft music, has over me. You knew him, you can understand what

I mean. Now, mention your wish; my heart is as calmly quiet as the Nile

waters which are flowing by so quietly, and I am ready to hear it, be it

good or evil."

"I am glad to see you thus," said the Athenian. "If you had remembered

the noble friend of wisdom, as Pythagoras was wont to call himself a

little sooner, your soul would have regained its balance yesterday. The

master enjoins us to look back every evening on the events, feelings and

actions of the day just past.

"Now had you done this, you would have felt that the unfeigned

admiration of all your guests, among whom were men of distinguished

merit, outweighed a thousandfold the injurious words of a drunken

libertine; you would have felt too that you were a friend of the gods,

for was it not in your house that the immortals gave that noble old man

at last, after his long years of misfortune, the greatest joy that can

fall to the lot of any human being? and did they not take from you one

friend only in order to replace him in the same moment, by another and a

better? Come, I will hear no contradiction. Now for my request.

"You know that people sometimes call me an Athenian, sometimes a

Halikarnassian. Now, as the Ionian, AEolian and Dorian mercenaries have

never been on good terms with the Karians, my almost triple descent

(if I may call it so) has proved very useful to me as commander of both

these divisions. Well qualified as Aristomachus may be for the command,

yet in this one point Amasis will miss me; for I found it an easy matter

to settle the differences among the troops and keep them at peace, while

he, as a Spartan, will find it very difficult to keep right with the

Karian soldiers.

"This double nationality of mine arises from the fact that my father

married a Halikarnassian wife out of a noble Dorian family, and, at the

time of my birth, was staying with her in Halikarnassus, having come

thither in order to take possession of her parental inheritance. So,

though I was taken back to Athens before I was three months old, I

must still be called a Karian, as a man's native land is decided by his

birthplace.

"In Athens, as a young nobleman, belonging to that most aristocratic

and ancient family, the Philaidae, I was reared and educated in all the

pride of an Attic noble. Pisistratus, brave and clever, and though of

equal, yet by no means of higher birth, than ourselves, for there exists

no family more aristocratic than my father's, gained possession of the

supreme authority. Twice, the nobles, by uniting all their strength,

succeeded in overthrowing him, and when, the third time, assisted by

Lygdamis of Naxos, the Argives and Eretrians, he attempted to return, we

opposed him again. We had encamped by the temple of Minerva at Pallene,

and were engaged in sacrificing to the goddess, early, before our first

meal, when we were suddenly surprised by the clever tyrant, who gained

an easy, bloodless victory over our unarmed troops. As half of the

entire army opposed to the tyrant was under my command, I determined

rather to die than yield, fought with my whole strength, implored the

soldiers to remain steadfast, resisted without yielding a point, but

fell at last with a spear in my shoulder.

"The Pisistratidae became lords of Athens. I fled to Halikarnassus, my

second home, accompanied by my wife and children. There, my name being

known through some daring military exploits, and, through my having

once conquered in the Pythian games, I was appointed to a command in

the mercenary troops of the King of Egypt; accompanied the expedition

to Cyprus, shared with Aristomachus the renown of having conquered

the birthplace of Aphrodite for Amasis, and finally was named

commander-in-chief of all the mercenaries in Egypt.

"Last summer my wife died; our children, a boy of eleven and a girl

of ten years, remained with an aunt in Halikarnassus. But she too has

followed to the inexorable Hades, and so, only a few days ago I sent for

the little ones here. They cannot, however, possibly reach Naukratis in

less than three weeks, and yet they will already have set out on their

journey before a letter to countermand my first order could reach them.

"I must leave Egypt in fourteen days, and cannot therefore receive them

myself.

"My own intentions are to go to the Thracian Chersonese, where my uncle,

as you know, has been called to fill a high office among the Dolonki.

The children shall follow me thither; my faithful old slave Korax will

remain in Naukratis on purpose to bring them to me.

"Now, if you will show to me that you are in deed and truth my friend,

will you receive the little ones and take care of them till the next

ship sails for Thrace? But above all, will you carefully conceal them

from the eyes of the crown-prince's spies? You know that Psamtik hates

me mortally, and he could easily revenge himself on the father through

the children. I ask you for this great favor, first, because I know your

kindness by experience; and secondly, because your house has been made

secure by the king's letter of guarantee, and they will therefore be

safe here from the inquiries of the police; notwithstanding that, by the

laws of this most formal country, all strangers, children not excepted,

must give up their names to the officer of the district.

"You can now judge of the depth of my esteem, Rhodopis; I am committing

into your hands all that makes life precious to me; for even my native

land has ceased to be dear while she submits so ignominiously to her

tyrants. Will you then restore tranquillity to an anxious father's

heart, will you--?"

"I will, Phanes, I will!" cried the aged woman in undisguised delight.

"You are not asking me for any thing, you are presenting me with a gift.

Oh, how I look forward already to their arrival! And how glad Sappho

will be, when the little creatures come and enliven her solitude! But

this I can assure you, Phanes, I shall not let my little guests depart

with the first Thracian ship. You can surely afford to be separated from

them one short half-year longer, and I promise you they shall receive

the best lessons, and be guided to all that is good and beautiful."

"On that head I have no fear," answered Phanes, with a thankful smile.

"But still you must send off the two little plagues by the first ship;

my anxiety as to Psamtik's revenge is only too well grounded. Take my

most heartfelt thanks beforehand for all the love and kindness which you

will show to my children. I too hope and believe, that the merry little

creatures will be an amusement and pleasure to Sappho in her lonely

life."

"And more," interrupted Rhodopis looking down; "this proof of confidence

repays a thousand-fold the disgrace inflicted on me last night in a

moment of intoxication.--But here comes Sappho!"

CHAPTER IV.

Five days after the evening we have just described at Rhodopis' house,

an immense multitude was to be seen assembled at the harbor of Sais.

Egyptians of both sexes, and of every age and class were thronging to

the water's edge.

Soldiers and merchants, whose various ranks in society were betokened by

the length of their white garments, bordered with colored fringes,

were interspersed among the crowd of half-naked, sinewy men, whose only

clothing consisted of an apron, the costume of the lower classes. Naked

children crowded, pushed and fought to get the best places. Mothers in

short cloaks were holding their little ones up to see the sight, which

by this means they entirely lost themselves; and a troop of dogs and

cats were playing and fighting at the feet of these eager sight-seers,

who took the greatest pains not to tread on, or in any way injure the

sacred animals.

[According to various pictures on the Egyptian monuments. The

mothers are from Wilkinson III. 363. Isis and Hathor, with the

child Horus in her lap or at her breast, are found in a thousand

representations, dating both from more modern times and in the Greek

style. The latter seem to have served as a model for the earliest

pictures of the Madonna holding the infant Christ.]

The police kept order among this huge crowd with long staves, on the

metal heads of which the king's name was inscribed. Their care was

especially needed to prevent any of the people from being pushed into

the swollen Nile, an arm of which, in the season of the inundations,

washes the walls of Sais.

On the broad flight of steps which led between two rows of sphinxes down

to the landing-place of the royal boats, was a very different kind of

assembly.

The priests of the highest rank were seated there on stone benches.

Many wore long, white robes, others were clad in aprons, broad jewelled

collars, and garments of panther skins. Some had fillets adorned with

plumes that waved around brows, temples, and the stiff structures of

false curls that floated over their shoulders; others displayed the

glistening bareness of their smoothly-shaven skulls. The supreme judge

was distinguished by the possession of the longest and handsomest plume

in his head-dress, and a costly sapphire amulet, which, suspended by a

gold chain, hung on his breast.

The highest officers of the Egyptian army wore uniforms of gay colors,97

and carried short swords in their girdles. On the right side of the

steps a division of the body-guard was stationed, armed with battleaxes,

daggers, bows, and large shields; on the left, were the Greek

mercenaries, armed in Ionian fashion. Their new leader, our friend

Aristomachus, stood with a few of his own officers apart from the

Egyptians, by the colossal statues of Psamtik I., which had been erected

on the space above the steps, their faces towards the river.

In front of these statues, on a silver chair, sat Psamtik, the heir to

the throne: He wore a close-fitting garment of many colors, interwoven

with gold, and was surrounded by the most distinguished among the king's

courtiers, chamberlains, counsellors, and friends, all bearing staves

with ostrich feathers and lotus-flowers.

The multitude gave vent to their impatience by shouting, singing, and

quarrelling; but the priests and magnates on the steps preserved a

dignified and solemn silence. Each, with his steady, unmoved gaze, his

stiffly-curled false wig and beard, and his solemn, deliberate manner,

resembled the two huge statues, which, the one precisely similar to the

other, stood also motionless in their respective places, gazing calmly

into the stream.

At last silken sails, chequered with purple and blue, appeared in sight.

The crowd shouted with delight. Cries of, "They are coming! Here they

are!" "Take care, or you'll tread on that kitten," "Nurse, hold the

child higher that she may see something of the sight." "You are pushing

me into the water, Sebak!" "Have a care Phoenician, the boys are

throwing burs into your long beard." "Now, now, you Greek fellow, don't

fancy that all Egypt belongs to you, because Amasis allows you to live

on the shores of the sacred river!" "Shameless set, these Greeks, down

with them!" shouted a priest, and the cry was at once echoed from many

mouths. "Down with the eaters of swine's flesh and despisers of the

gods!"

[The Egyptians, like the Jews, were forbidden to eat swine's flesh.

This prohibition is mentioned in the Ritual of the Dead, found in a

grave in Abd-el-Qurnah, and also in other places. Porphyr de

Abstin. IV. The swine was considered an especially unclean animal

pertaining to Typhon (Egyptian, Set) as the boar to Ares, and

swineherds were an especially despised race. Animals with bristles

were only sacrificed at the feasts of Osiris and Eileithyia. Herod.

I. 2. 47. It is probable that Moses borrowed his prohibition of

swine's flesh from the Egyptian laws with regard to unclean

animals.]

From words they were proceeding to deeds, but the police were not to be

trifled with, and by a vigorous use of their staves, the tumult was

soon stilled. The large, gay sails, easily to be distinguished among

the brown, white and blue ones of the smaller Nile-boats which swarmed

around them, came nearer and nearer to the expectant throng. Then at

last the crown-prince and the dignitaries arose from their seats. The

royal band of trumpeters blew a shrill and piercing blast of welcome,

and the first of the expected boats stopped at the landing-place.

It was a rather long, richly-gilded vessel, and bore a silver

sparrow-hawk as figure-head. In its midst rose a golden canopy with a

purple covering, beneath which cushions were conveniently arranged. On

each deck in the forepart of the ship sat twelve rowers, their aprons

attached by costly fastenings.

[Splendid Nile-boats were possessed, in greater or less numbers, by

all the men of high rank. Even in the tomb of Ti at Sakkara, which

dates from the time of the Pyramids, we meet with a chief overseer

of the vessels belonging to a wealthy Egyptian.]

Beneath the canopy lay six fine-looking men in glorious apparel; and

before the ship had touched the shore the youngest of these, a beautiful

fair-haired youth, sprang on to the steps.

Many an Egyptian girl's mouth uttered a lengthened "Ah" at this glorious

sight, and even the grave faces of some of the dignitaries brightened

into a friendly smile.

The name of this much-admired youth was Bartja.

[This Bartja is better known under the name of Smerdis, but on what

account the Greeks gave him this name is not clear. In the

cuneiform inscriptions of Bisitun or Behistun, he is called Bartja,

or, according to Spiegel, Bardiya. We have chosen, for the sake of

the easy pronunciation, the former, which is Rawlinson's simplified

reading of the name.]

He was the son of the late, and brother of the reigning king of Persia,

and had been endowed by nature with every gift that a youth of twenty

years could desire for himself.

Around his tiara was wound a blue and white turban, beneath which hung

fair, golden curls of beautiful, abundant hair; his blue eyes sparkled

with life and joy, kindness and high spirits, almost with sauciness;

his noble features, around which the down of a manly beard was already

visible, were worthy of a Grecian sculptor's chisel, and his slender

but muscular figure told of strength and activity. The splendor of his

apparel was proportioned to his personal beauty. A brilliant star of

diamonds and turquoises glittered in the front of his tiara. An upper

garment of rich white and gold brocade reaching just below the knees,

was fastened round the waist with a girdle of blue and white, the royal

colors of Persia. In this girdle gleamed a short, golden sword, its hilt

and scabbard thickly studded with opals and sky-blue turquoises. The

trousers were of the same rich material as the robe, fitting closely

at the ankle, and ending within a pair of short boots of light-blue

leather.

The long, wide sleeves of his robe displayed a pair of vigorous arms,

adorned with many costly bracelets of gold and jewels; round his slender

neck and on his broad chest lay a golden chain.

Such was the youth who first sprang on shore. He was followed by Darius,

the son of Hystaspes, a young Persian of the blood royal, similar in

person to Bartja, and scarcely less gorgeously apparelled than he. The

third to disembark was an aged man with snow-white hair, in whose

face the gentle and kind expression of childhood was united, with the

intellect of a man, and the experience of old age. His dress consisted

of a long purple robe with sleeves, and the yellow boots worn by the

Lydians;--his whole appearance produced an impression of the greatest

modesty and a total absence of pretension.

[On account of these boots, which are constantly mentioned, Croesus

was named by the oracle "soft-footed."]

Yet this simple old man had been, but a few years before, the most

envied of his race and age; and even in our day at two thousand years'

interval, his name is used as a synonyme for the highest point of

worldly riches attainable by mankind. The old man to whom we are now

introduced is no other than Croesus, the dethroned king of Lydia, who

was then living at the court of Cambyses, as his friend and counsellor,

and had accompanied the young Bartja to Egypt, in the capacity of

Mentor.

Croesus was followed by Prexaspes, the king's Ambassador, Zopyrus, the

son of Megabyzus, a Persian noble, the friend of Bartja and Darius; and,

lastly, by his own son, the slender, pale Gyges, who after having become

dumb in his fourth year through the fearful anguish he had suffered

on his father's account at the taking of Sardis, had now recovered the

power of speech.

Psamtik descended the steps to welcome the strangers. His austere,

sallow face endeavored to assume a smile. The high officials in his

train bowed down nearly to the ground, allowing their arms to hang

loosely at their sides. The Persians, crossing their hands on their

breasts, cast themselves on the earth before the heir to the Egyptian

throne. When the first formalities were over, Bartja, according to the

custom of his native country, but greatly to the astonishment of the

populace, who were totally unaccustomed to such a sight, kissed the

sallow cheek of the Egyptian prince; who shuddered at the touch of a

stranger's unclean lips, then took his way to the litters waiting to

convey him and his escort to the dwelling designed for them by the king,

in the palace at Sais.

A portion of the crowd streamed after the strangers, but the larger

number remained at their places, knowing that many a new and wonderful

sight yet awaited them.

"Are you going to run after those dressed-up monkeys and children of

Typhon, too?" asked an angry priest of his neighbor, a respectable

tailor of Sais. "I tell you, Puhor, and the high-priest says so too,

that these strangers can bring no good to the black land! I am for the

good old times, when no one who cared for his life dared set foot on

Egyptian soil. Now our streets are literally swarming with cheating

Hebrews, and above all with those insolent Greeks whom may the gods

destroy!

[The Jews were called Hebrews (Apuriu) by the Egyptians; as brought

to light by Chabas. See Ebers, Aegypten I. p. 316. H. Brugsch

opposes this opinion.]

"Only look, there is the third boat full of strangers! And do you know

what kind of people these Persians are? The high-priest says that in the

whole of their kingdom, which is as large as half the world, there

is not a single temple to the gods; and that instead of giving decent

burial to the dead, they leave them to be torn in pieces by dogs and

vultures."

[These statements are correct, as the Persians, at the time of the

dynasty of the Achaemenidae, had no temples, but used fire-altars

and exposed their dead to the dogs and vultures. An impure corpse

was not permitted to defile the pure earth by its decay; nor might

it be committed to the fire or water for destruction, as their

purity would be equally polluted by such an act. But as it was

impossible to cause the dead bodies to vanish, Dakhmas or burying-

places were laid out, which had to be covered with pavement and

cement not less than four inches thick, and surrounded by cords to

denote that the whole structure was as it were suspended in the air,

and did not come in contact with the pure earth. Spiegel, Avesta

II.]

"The tailor's indignation at hearing this was even greater than his

astonishment, and pointing to the landing-steps, he cried:

"It is really too bad; see, there is the sixth boat full of these

foreigners!"

"Yes, it is hard indeed!" sighed the priest, "one might fancy a whole

army arriving. Amasis will go on in this manner until the strangers

drive him from his throne and country, and plunder and make slaves of

us poor creatures, as the evil Hyksos, those scourges of Egypt, and the

black Ethiopians did, in the days of old."

"The seventh boat!" shouted the tailor.

"May my protectress Neith, the great goddess of Sais, destroy me, if I

can understand the king," complained the priest. "He sent three barks to

Naukratis, that poisonous nest hated of the gods, to fetch the servants

and baggage of these Persians; but instead of three, eight had to be

procured, for these despisers of the gods and profaners of dead bodies

have not only brought kitchen utensils, dogs, horses, carriages, chests,

baskets and bales, but have dragged with them, thousands of miles, a

whole host of servants. They tell me that some of them have no other

work than twining of garlands and preparing ointments. Their priests

too, whom they call Magi, are here with them. I should like to know what

they are for? of what use is a priest where there is no temple?"

The old King Amasis received the Persian embassy shortly after their

arrival with all the amiability and kindness peculiar to him.

Four days later, after having attended to the affairs of state, a duty

punctually fulfilled by him every morning without exception, he went

forth to walk with Croesus in the royal gardens. The remaining members

of the embassy, accompanied by the crown-prince, were engaged in an

excursion up the Nile to the city of Memphis.

The palace-gardens, of a royal magnificence, yet similar in their

arrangement to those of Rhodopis, lay in the north-west part of Sais,

near the royal citadel.

Here, under the shadow of a spreading plane-tree, and near a gigantic

basin of red granite, into which an abundance of clear water flowed

perpetually through the jaws of black basalt crocodiles, the two old men

seated themselves.

The dethroned king, though in reality some years the elder of the two,

looked far fresher and more vigorous than the powerful monarch at his

side. Amasis was tall, but his neck was bent; his corpulent body was

supported by weak and slender legs: and his face, though well-formed,

was lined and furrowed. But a vigorous spirit sparkled in the small,

flashing eyes, and an expression of raillery, sly banter, and at times,

even of irony, played around his remarkably full lips. The low, broad

brow, the large and beautifully-arched head bespoke great mental power,

and in the changing color of his eyes one seemed to read that neither

wit nor passion were wanting in the man, who, from his simple place

as soldier in the ranks, had worked his way up to the throne of the

Pharaohs. His voice was sharp and hard, and his movements, in comparison

with the deliberation of the other members of the Egyptian court,

appeared almost morbidly active.

The attitude and bearing of his neighbor Croesus were graceful, and in

every way worthy of a king. His whole manner showed that he had lived

in frequent intercourse with the highest and noblest minds of Greece.

Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes of Miletus, Bias of Priene, Solon of

Athens, Pittakus of Lesbos, the most celebrated Hellenic philosophers,

had in former and happier days been guests at the court of Croesus in

Sardis. His full clear voice sounded like pure song when compared with

the shrill tones of Amasis.

[Bias, a philosopher of Ionian origin, flourished about 560 B. C.

and was especially celebrated for his wise maxims on morals and law.

After his death, which took place during his defence of a friend in

the public court, a temple was erected to him by his countrymen.

Laert. Diog. I. 88.]

"Now tell me openly," began king Pharaoh--[In English "great house," the

high gate or "sublime porte."]--in tolerably fluent Greek, "what opinion

hast thou formed of Egypt? Thy judgment possesses for me more worth than

that of any other man, for three reasons: thou art better acquainted

with most of the countries and nations of this earth; the gods have not

only allowed thee to ascend the ladder of fortune to its utmost summit,

but also to descend it, and thirdly, thou hast long been the first

counsellor to the mightiest of kings. Would that my kingdom might please

thee so well that thou wouldst remain here and become to me a brother.

Verily, Croesus, my friend hast thou long been, though my eyes beheld

thee yesterday for the first time!"

"And thou mine," interrupted the Lydian. "I admire the courage with

which thou hast accomplished that which seemed right and good in thine

eyes, in spite of opposition near and around thee. I am thankful for the

favor shown to the Hellenes, my friends, and I regard thee as related to

me by fortune, for hast thou not also passed through all the extremes of

good and evil that this life can offer?"

"With this difference," said Amasis smiling, "that we started from

opposite points; in thy lot the good came first, the evil later; whereas

in my own this order has been reversed. In saying this, however," he

added, "I am supposing that my present fortune is a good for me, and

that I enjoy it."

"And I, in that case," answered Croesus, "must be assuming that I am

unhappy in what men call my present ill-fortune."

"How can it possibly be otherwise after the loss of such enormous

possessions?"

"Does happiness consist then in possession?" asked Croesus. "Is

happiness itself a thing to be possessed? Nay, by no means! It is

nothing but a feeling, a sensation, which the envious gods vouchsafe

more often to the needy than to the mighty. The clear sight of the

latter becomes dazzled by the glittering treasure, and they cannot but

suffer continual humiliation, because, conscious of possessing power to

obtain much, they wage an eager war for all, and therein are continually

defeated."

Amasis sighed, and answered: "I would I could prove thee in the wrong;

but in looking back on my past life I am fain to confess that its

cares began with that very hour which brought me what men call my good

fortune."--"And I," interrupted Croesus, "can assure thee that I am

thankful thou delayedst to come to my help, inasmuch as the hour of my

overthrow was the beginning of true, unsullied happiness. When I beheld

the first Persians scale the walls of Sardis, I execrated myself and the

gods, life appeared odious to me, existence a curse. Fighting on, but in

heart despairing, I and my people were forced to yield. A Persian raised

his sword to cleave my skull--in an instant my poor dumb son had thrown

himself between his father and the murderer, and for the first time

after long years of silence, I heard him speak. Terror had loosened his

tongue; in that dreadful hour Gyges learnt once more to speak, and I,

who but the moment before had been cursing the gods, bowed down before

their power. I had commanded a slave to kill me the moment I should be

taken prisoner by the Persians, but now I deprived him of his sword. I

was a changed man, and by degrees learnt ever more and more to subdue

the rage and indignation which yet from time to time would boil up again

within my soul, rebellious against my fate and my noble enemies. Thou

knowest that at last I became the friend of Cyrus, and that my son grew

up at his court, a free man at my side, having entirely regained the use

of his speech. Everything beautiful and good that I had heard, seen

or thought during my long life I treasured up now for him; he was my

kingdom, my crown, my treasure. Cyrus's days of care, his nights so reft

of sleep, reminded me with horror of my own former greatness, and from

day to day it became more evident to me that happiness has nothing to

do with our outward circumstances. Each man possesses the hidden germ in

his own heart. A contented, patient mind, rejoicing much in all that

is great and beautiful and yet despising not the day of small things;

bearing sorrow without a murmur and sweetening it by calling to

remembrance former joy; moderation in all things; a firm trust in the

favor of the gods and a conviction that, all things being subject to

change, so with us too the worst must pass in due season; all this helps

to mature the germ of happiness, and gives us power to smile, where the

man undisciplined by fate might yield to despair and fear."

Amasis listened attentively, drawing figures the while in the sand with

the golden flower on his staff. At last he spoke:

"Verily, Croesus, I the great god, the 'sun of righteousness,' 'the son

of Neith,' 'the lord of warlike glory,' as the Egyptians call me, am

tempted to envy thee, dethroned and plundered as thou art. I have been

as happy as thou art now. Once I was known through all Egypt, though

only the poor son of a captain, for my light heart, happy temper, fun

and high spirits. The common soldiers would do anything for me, my

superior officers could have found much fault, but in the mad Amasis,

as they called me, all was overlooked, and among my equals, (the other

under-officers) there could be no fun or merry-making unless I took a

share in it. My predecessor king Hophra sent us against Cyrene. Seized

with thirst in the desert, we refused to go on; and a suspicion that the

king intended to sacrifice us to the Greek mercenaries drove the army to

open mutiny. In my usual joking manner I called out to my friends: 'You

can never get on without a king, take me for your ruler; a merrier you

will never find!' The soldiers caught the words. 'Amasis will be our

king,' ran through the ranks from man to man, and, in a few hours more,

they came to me with shouts, and acclamations of 'The good, jovial

Amasis for our King!' One of my boon companions set a field-marshal's

helmet on my head: I made the joke earnest, and we defeated Hophra at

Momempliis. The people joined in the conspiracy, I ascended the throne,

and men pronounced me fortunate. Up to that time I had been every

Egyptian's friend, and now I was the enemy of the best men in the

nation.

"The priests swore allegiance to me, and accepted me as a member of

their caste, but only in the hope of guiding me at their will. My former

superiors in command either envied me, or wished to remain on the same

terms of intercourse as formerly. But this would have been inconsistent

with my new position, and have undermined my authority. One day,

therefore, when the officers of the host were at one of my banquets and

attempting, as usual, to maintain their old convivial footing, I showed

them the golden basin in which their feet had been washed before sitting

down to meat; five days later, as they were again drinking at one of my

revels, I caused a golden image of the great god Ra be placed upon the

richly-ornamented banqueting-table.

[Ra, with the masculine article Phra, must be regarded as the

central point of the sun-worship of the Egyptians, which we consider

to have been the foundation of their entire religion. He was more

especially worshipped at Heliopolis. Plato, Eudoxus, and probably

Pythagoras also, profited by the teaching of his priests. The

obelisks, serving also as memorial monuments on which the names and

deeds of great kings were recorded, were sacred to him, and Pliny

remarks of them that they represented the rays of the sun. He was

regarded as the god of light, the director of the entire visible

creation, over which he reigned, as Osiris over the world of

spirits.]

"On perceiving it, they fell down to worship. As they rose from

their knees, I took the sceptre, and holding it up on high with much

solemnity, exclaimed: 'In five days an artificer has transformed the

despised vessel into which ye spat and in which men washed your feet,

into this divine image. Such a vessel was I, but the Deity, which can

fashion better and more quickly than a goldsmith, has made me your king.

Bow down then before me and worship. He who henceforth refuses to obey,

or is unmindful of the reverence due to the king, is guilty of death!'

"They fell down before me, every one, and I saved my authority, but lost

my friends. As I now stood in need of some other prop, I fixed on the

Hellenes, knowing that in all military qualifications one Greek is worth

more than five Egyptians, and that with this assistance I should be able

to carry out those measures which I thought beneficial.

"I kept the Greek mercenaries always round me, I learnt their language,

and it was they who brought to me the noblest human being I ever met,

Pythagoras. I endeavored to introduce Greek art and manners among

ourselves, seeing what folly lay in a self-willed adherence to that

which has been handed down to us, when it is in itself bad and unworthy,

while the good seed lay on our Egyptian soil, only waiting to be sown.

"I portioned out the whole land to suit my purposes, appointed the best

police in the world, and accomplished much; but my highest aim, namely:

to infuse into this country, at once so gay and so gloomy, the spirit

and intellect of the Greeks, their sense of beauty in form, their love

of life and joy in it, this all was shivered on the same rock which

threatens me with overthrow and ruin whenever I attempt to accomplish

anything new. The priests are my opponents, my masters, they hang like a

dead weight upon me. Clinging with superstitious awe to all that is old

and traditionary, abominating everything foreign, and regarding every

stranger as the natural enemy of their authority and their teaching,

they can lead the most devout and religious of all nations with a power

that has scarcely any limits. For this I am forced to sacrifice all my

plans, for this I see my life passing away in bondage to their severe

ordinances, this will rob my death-bed of peace, and I cannot be secure

that this host of proud mediators between god and man will allow me to

rest even in my grave!"

"By Zeus our saviour, with all thy good fortune, thou art to be pitied!"

interrupted Croesus sympathetically, "I understand thy misery; for

though I have met with many an individual who passed through life darkly

and gloomily, I could not have believed that an entire race of human

beings existed, to whom a gloomy, sullen heart was as natural as a

poisonous tooth to the serpent. Yet it is true, that on my journey

hither and during my residence at this court I have seen none but morose

and gloomy countenances among the priesthood. Even the youths, thy

immediate attendants, are never seen to smile; though cheerfulness,

that sweet gift of the gods, usually belongs to the young, as flowers to

spring."

"Thou errest," answered Amasis, "in believing this gloom to be a

universal characteristic of the Egyptians. It is true that our religion

requires much serious thought. There are few nations, however, who have

so largely the gift of bantering fun and joke: or who on the occasion

of a festival, can so entirely forget themselves and everything else but

the enjoyments of the moment; but the very sight of a stranger is odious

to the priests, and the moroseness which thou observest is intended as

retaliation on me for my alliance with the strangers. Those very boys,

of whom thou spakest, are the greatest torment of my life. They perform

for me the service of slaves, and obey my slightest nod. One might

imagine that the parents who devote their children to this service,

and who are the highest in rank among the priesthood, would be the most

obedient and reverential servants of the king whom they profess to honor

as divine; but believe me, Croesus, just in this very act of devotion,

which no ruler can refuse to accept without giving offence, lies the

most crafty, scandalous calculation. Each of these youths is my keeper,

my spy. They watch my smallest actions and report them at once to the

priests."

"But how canst thou endure such an existence? Why not banish these spies

and select servants from the military caste, for instance? They would be

quite as useful as the priests."

"Ah! if I only could, if I dared!" exclaimed Amasis loudly. And then,

as if frightened at his own rashness, he continued in a low voice, "I

believe that even here I am being watched. To-morrow I will have that

grove of fig-trees yonder uprooted. The young priest there, who seems

so fond of gardening, has other fruit in his mind besides the half-ripe

figs that he is so slowly dropping into his basket. While his hand is

plucking the figs, his ear gathers the words that fall from the mouth of

his king."

"But, by our father Zeus, and by Apollo--"

"Yes, I understand thy indignation and I share it; but every position

has its duties, and as a king of a people who venerate tradition as the

highest divinity, I must submit, at least in the main, to the ceremonies

handed down through thousands of years. Were I to burst these fetters,

I know positively that at my death my body would remain unburied; for,

know that the priests sit in judgment over every corpse, and deprive the

condemned of rest, even in the grave."

[This well-known custom among the ancient Egyptians is confirmed,

not only by many Greek narrators, but by the laboriously erased

inscriptions discovered in the chambers of some tombs.]

"Why care about the grave?" cried Croesus, becoming angry. "We live for

life, not for death!"

"Say rather," answered Amasis rising from his seat, "we, with our Greek

minds, believe a beautiful life to be the highest good. But Croesus, I

was begotten and nursed by Egyptian parents, nourished on Egyptian food,

and though I have accepted much that is Greek, am still, in my innermost

being, an Egyptian. What has been sung to us in our childhood, and

praised as sacred in our youth, lingers on in the heart until the day

which sees us embalmed as mummies. I am an old man and have but a short

span yet to run, before I reach the landmark which separates us from

that farther country. For the sake of life's few remaining days, shall

I willingly mar Death's thousands of years? No, my friend, in this point

at least I have remained an Egyptian, in believing, like the rest of

my countrymen, that the happiness of a future life in the kingdom of

Osiris, depends on the preservation of my body, the habitation of the

soul.

[Each human soul was considered as a part of the world-soul Osiris,

was united to him after the death of the body, and thenceforth took

the name of Osiris. The Egyptian Cosmos consisted of the three

great realms, the Heavens, the Earth and the Depths. Over the vast

ocean which girdles the vault of heaven, the sun moves in a boat or

car drawn by the planets and fixed stars. On this ocean too the

great constellations circle in their ships, and there is the kingdom

of the blissful gods, who sit enthroned above this heavenly ocean

under a canopy of stars. The mouth of this great stream is in the

East, where the sun-god rises from the mists and is born again as a

child every morning. The surface of the earth is inhabited by human

beings having a share in the three great cosmic kingdoms. They

receive their soul from the heights of heaven, the seat and source

of light; their material body is of the earth; and the appearance or

outward form by which one human being is distinguished from another

at sight--his phantom or shadow--belongs to the depths. At death,

soul, body, and shadow separate from one another. The soul to

return to the place from whence it came, to Heaven, for it is a part

of God (of Osiris); the body, to be committed to the earth from

which it was formed in the image of its creator; the phantom or

shadow, to descend into the depths, the kingdom of shadows. The

gate to this kingdom was placed in the West among the sunset hills,

where the sun goes down daily,--where he dies. Thence arise the

changeful and corresponding conceptions connected with rising and

setting, arriving and departing, being born and dying. The careful

preservation of the body after death from destruction, not only

through the process of inward decay, but also through violence or

accident, was in the religion of ancient Egypt a principal condition

(perhaps introduced by the priests on sanitary grounds) on which

depended the speedy deliverance of the soul, and with this her

early, appointed union with the source of Light and Good, which two

properties were, in idea, one and indivisible. In the Egyptian

conceptions the soul was supposed to remain, in a certain sense,

connected with the body during a long cycle of solar years. She

could, however, quit the body from time to time at will, and could

appear to mortals in various forms and places; these appearances

differed according to the hour, and were prescribed in exact words

and delineations.]

"But enough of these matters; thou wilt find it difficult to enter into

such thoughts. Tell me rather what thou thinkest of our temples and

pyramids."

Croesus, after reflecting a moment, answered with a smile: "Those huge

pyramidal masses of stone seem to me creations of the boundless desert,

the gaily painted temple colonnades to be the children of the Spring;

but though the sphinxes lead up to your temple gates, and seem to point

the way into the very shrines themselves, the sloping fortress-like

walls of the Pylons, those huge isolated portals, appear as if placed

there to repel entrance. Your many-colored hieroglyphics likewise

attract the gaze, but baffle the inquiring spirit by the mystery that

lies within their characters. The images of your manifold gods are

everywhere to be seen; they crowd on our gaze, and yet who knows not

that their real is not their apparent significance? that they are mere

outward images of thoughts accessible only to the few, and, as I have

heard, almost incomprehensible in their depth? My curiosity is excited

everywhere, and my interest awakened, but my warm love of the beautiful

feels itself in no way attracted. My intellect might strain to penetrate

the secrets of your sages, but my heart and mind can never be at home in

a creed which views life as a short pilgrimage to the grave, and death

as the only true life!"

"And yet," said Amasis, "Death has for us too his terrors, and we do all

in our power to evade his grasp. Our physicians would not be celebrated

and esteemed as they are, if we did not believe that their skill could

prolong our earthly existence. This reminds me of the oculist Nebenchari

whom I sent to Susa, to the king. Does he maintain his reputation? is

the king content with him?"

"Very much so," answered Croesus. "He has been of use to many of the

blind; but the king's mother is alas! still sightless. It was Nebenchari

who first spoke to Cambyses of the charms of thy daughter Tachot. But we

deplore that he understands diseases of the eye alone. When the Princess

Atossa lay ill of fever, he was not to be induced to bestow a word of

counsel."

"That is very natural; our physicians are only permitted to treat one

part of the body. We have aurists, dentists and oculists, surgeons for

fractures of the bone, and others for internal diseases. By the ancient

priestly law a dentist is not allowed to treat a deaf man, nor a surgeon

for broken bones a patient who is suffering from a disease of the

bowels, even though he should have a first rate knowledge of internal

complaints. This law aims at securing a great degree of real and

thorough knowledge; an aim indeed, pursued by the priests (to whose

caste the physicians belong) with a most praiseworthy earnestness in all

branches of science. Yonder lies the house of the high-priest Neithotep,

whose knowledge of astronomy and geometry was so highly praised, even

by Pythagoras. It lies next to the porch leading into the temple of

the goddess Neith, the protectress of Sais. Would I could show thee the

sacred grove with its magnificent trees, the splendid pillars of the

temple with capitals modelled from the lotus-flower, and the colossal

chapel which I caused to be wrought from a single piece of granite, as

an offering to the goddess; but alas! entrance is strictly refused to

strangers by the priests. Come, let us seek my wife and daughter; they

have conceived an affection for thee, and indeed it is my wish that thou

shouldst gain a friendly feeling towards this poor maiden before she

goes forth with thee to the strange land, and to the strange nation

whose princess she is to become. Wilt thou not adopt and take her under

thy care?"

"On that thou may'st with fullest confidence rely," replied Croesus

with warmth, returning the pressure of Amasis' hand. "I will protect

thy Nitetis as if I were her father; and she will need my help, for the

apartments of the women in the Persian palaces are dangerous ground. But

she will meet with great consideration. Cambyses may be contented with

his choice, and will be highly gratified that thou hast entrusted him

with thy fairest child. Nebenchari had only spoken of Tachot, thy second

daughter."

"Nevertheless I will send my beautiful Nitetis. Tachot is so tender,

that she could scarcely endure the fatigues of the journey and the pain

of separation. Indeed were I to follow the dictates of my own heart,

Nitetis should never leave us for Persia. But Egypt stands in need of

peace, and I was a king before I became a father!"

CHAPTER V.

The other members of the Persian embassy had returned to Sais from their

excursion up the Nile to the pyramids. Prexaspes alone, the ambassador

from Cambyses, had already set out for Persia, in order to inform the

king of the successful issue of his suit.

The palace of Amasis was full of life and stir. The huge building

was filled in all parts by the followers of the embassy, nearly three

hundred in number, and by the high guests themselves, to whom every

possible attention was paid. The courts of the palace swarmed with

guards and officials, with young priests and slaves, all in splendid

festal raiment.

On this day it was the king's intention to make an especial display of

the wealth and splendor of his court, at a festival arranged in honor of

his daughter's betrothal.

The lofty reception-hall opening on to the gardens, with its ceiling

sown with thousands of golden stars and supported by gaily-painted

columns, presented a magic appearance. Lamps of colored papyrus hung

against the walls and threw a strange light on the scene, something like

that when the sun's rays strike through colored glass. The space

between the columns and the walls was filled with choice plants, palms,

oleanders, pomegranates, oranges and roses, behind which an invisible

band of harp and flute-players was stationed, who received the guests

with strains of monotonous, solemn music.

The floor of this hall was paved in black and white, and in the middle

stood elegant tables covered with dishes of all kinds, cold roast meats,

sweets, well-arranged baskets of fruit and cake, golden jugs of wine,

glass drinking-cups and artistic flower-vases.

A multitude of richly-dressed slaves under direction of the

high-steward, busied themselves in handing these dishes to the

guests, who, either standing around, or reclining on sumptuous seats,

entertained themselves in conversation with their friends.

Both sexes and all ages were to be found in this assembly. As the women

entered, they received charming little nosegays from the young priests

in the personal service of the king, and many a youth of high degree

appeared in the hall with flowers, which he not only offered to her he

loved best, but held up for her to smell.

The Egyptian men, who were dressed as we have already seen them at

the reception of the Persian embassy, behaved towards the women with a

politeness that might almost be termed submissive. Among the latter few

could pretend to remarkable beauty, though there were many bewitching

almond-shaped eyes, whose loveliness was heightened by having their lids

dyed with the eye-paint called "mestem." The majority wore their hair

arranged in the same manner; the wealth of waving brown locks floated

back over the shoulders and was brushed behind the ears, one braid being

left on each side to hang over the temples to the breast. A broad diadem

confined these locks, which as the maids knew, were quite as often the

wig-maker's work as Nature's. Many ladies of the court wore above their

foreheads a lotus-flower, whose stem drooped on the hair at the back.

They carried fans of bright feathers in their delicate hands. These

were loaded with rings; the finger-nails were stained red, according to

Egyptian custom, and gold or silver bands were worn above the elbow, and

at the wrists and ankles.

[This custom (of staining finger-nails) is still prevalent in the

East; the plant Shenna, Laosonia spinosa, called by Pliny XIII.

Cyprus, being used for the purpose. The Egyptian government has

prohibited the dye, but it will be difficult to uproot the ancient

custom. The pigment for coloring the eyelids, mentioned in the

text, is also still employed. The Papyrus Ebers alludes to the

Arabian kohl or antimony, which is frequently mentioned under the

name of "mestem" on monuments belonging to the time of the

Pharaohs.]

Their robes were beautiful and costly, and in many cases so cut as to

leave the right breast uncovered. Bartja, the young Persian prince,

among the men, and Nitetis, the Pharaoh's daughter, among the women,

were equally conspicuous for their superior beauty, grace and charms.

The royal maiden wore a transparent rose-colored robe, in her black hair

were fresh roses, she walked by the side of her sister, the two robed

alike, but Nitetis pale as the lotus-flower in her mother's hair.

Ladice, the queen, by birth a Greek, and daughter of Battus of Cyrene,

walked by the side of Amasis and presented the young Persians to her

children. A light lace robe was thrown over her garment of purple,

embroidered with gold; and on her beautiful Grecian head she wore the

Urmus serpent, the ornament peculiar to Egyptian queens.

Her countenance was noble yet charming, and every movement betrayed the

grace only to be imparted by a Greek education.

Amasis, in making choice of this queen, after the death of his second

wife, (the Egyptian Tentcheta, mother of Psamtik the heir to the

throne,) had followed his prepossession in favor of the Greek nation and

defied the wrath of the priests.

The two girls at Ladice's side, Tachot and Nitetis, were called

twin-sisters, but showed no signs of that resemblance usually to be

found in twins.

Tachot was a fair, blue-eyed girl, small, and delicately built; Nitetis,

on the other hand, tall and majestic, with black hair and eyes, evinced

in every action that she was of royal blood.

"How pale thou look'st, my child!" said Ladice, kissing Nitetis' cheek.

"Be of good courage, and meet thy future bravely. Here is the noble

Bartja, the brother of thy future husband."

Nitetis raised her dark, thoughtful eyes and fixed them long and

enquiringly on the beautiful youth. He bowed low before the blushing

maiden, kissed her garment, and said:

"I salute thee, as my future queen and sister! I can believe that

thy heart is sore at parting from thy home, thy parents, brethren and

sisters; but be of good courage; thy husband is a great hero, and

a powerful king; our mother is the noblest of women, and among the

Persians the beauty and virtue of woman is as much revered as the

life-giving light of the sun. Of thee, thou sister of the lily Nitetis,

whom, by her side I might venture to call the rose, I beg forgiveness,

for robbing thee of thy dearest friend."

As he said these words he looked eagerly into Tachot's beautiful blue

eyes; she bent low, pressing her hand upon her heart, and gazed on him

long after Amasis had drawn him away to a seat immediately opposite

the dancing-girls, who were just about to display their skill for the

entertainment of the guests. A thin petticoat was the only clothing

of these girls, who threw and wound their flexible limbs to a measure

played on harp and tambourine. After the dance appeared Egyptian singers

and buffoons for the further amusement of the company.

At length some of the courtiers forsook the hall, their grave demeanor

being somewhat overcome by intoxication.

[Unfortunately women, as well as men, are to be seen depicted on the

monuments in an intoxicated condition. One man is being carried

home, like a log of wood, on the heads of his servants. Wilkinson

II. 168. Another is standing on his head II. 169. and several

ladies are in the act of returning the excessive quantity which they

have drunk. Wilkinson II. 167. At the great Techu-festival at

Dendera intoxication seems to have been as much commanded as at the

festivals of Dionysus under the Ptolemies, one of whom (Ptolemy

Dionysus) threatened those who remained sober with the punishment of

death. But intoxication was in general looked upon by the Egyptians

as a forbidden and despicable vice. In the Papyrus Anastasi IV.,

for instance, we read these words on a drunkard: "Thou art as a

sanctuary without a divinity, as a house without bread," and

further: "How carefully should men avoid beer (hek)." A number of

passages in the Papyrus denounce drunkards.]

The women were carried home in gay litters by slaves with torches; and

only the highest military commanders, the Persian ambassadors and a

few officials, especial friends of Amasis, remained behind. These

were retained by the master of the ceremonies, and conducted to a

richly-ornamented saloon, where a gigantic wine-bowl standing on a table

adorned in the Greek fashion, invited to a drinking-bout.

Amasis was seated on a high arm-chair at the head of the table; at his

left the youthful Bartja, at his right the aged Croesus. Besides these

and the other Persians, Theodorus and Ibykus, the friends of Polykrates,

already known to us, and Aristomachus, now commander of the Greek

body-guard, were among the king's guests.

Amasis, whom we have just heard in such grave discourse with Croesus,

now indulged in jest and satire. He seemed once more the wild officer,

the bold reveller of the olden days.

His sparkling, clever jokes, at times playful, at times scornful, flew

round among the revellers. The guests responded in loud, perhaps often

artificial laughter, to their king's jokes, goblet after goblet was

emptied, and the rejoicings had reached their highest point, when

suddenly the master of the ceremonies appeared, bearing a small gilded

mummy; and displaying it to the gaze of the assembly, exclaimed. "Drink,

jest, and be merry, for all too soon ye shall become like unto this!"

[Wilkinson gives drawings of these mummies (II. 410.) hundreds of

which were placed in the tombs, and have been preserved to us.

Lucian was present at a banquet, when they were handed round. The

Greeks seem to have adopted this custom, but with their usual talent

for beautifying all they touched, substituted a winged figure of

death for the mummy. Maxims similar to the following one are by no

means rare. "Cast off all care; be mindful only of pleasure until

the day cometh when then must depart on the journey, whose goal is

the realm of silence!" Copied from the tomb of Neferhotep to

Abd-el-Qurnah.]

"Is it your custom thus to introduce death at all your banquets?" said

Bartja, becoming serious, "or is this only a jest devised for to-day by

your master of the ceremonies?"

"Since the earliest ages," answered Amasis, "it has been our custom to

display these mummies at banquets, in order to increase the mirth of the

revellers, by reminding them that one must enjoy the time while it is

here. Thou, young butterfly, hast still many a long and joyful year

before thee; but we, Croesus, we old men, must hold by this firmly. Fill

the goblets, cup-bearer, let not one moment of our lives be wasted! Thou

canst drink well, thou golden-haired Persian! Truly the great gods have

endowed thee not only with beautiful eyes, and blooming beauty, but with

a good throat! Let me embrace thee, thou glorious youth, thou rogue!

What thinkest thou Croesus? my daughter Tachot can speak of nothing else

than of this beardless youth, who seems to have quite turned her little

head with his sweet looks and words. Thou needest not to blush, young

madcap! A man such as thou art, may well look at king's daughters; but

wert thou thy father Cyrus himself, I could not allow my Tachot to leave

me for Persia!"

"Father!" whispered the crown-prince Psamtik, interrupting this

conversation. "Father, take care what you say, and remember Phanes." The

king turned a frowning glance on his son; but following his advice, took

much less part in the conversation, which now became more general.

The seat at the banquet-table, occupied by Aristomachus, placed him

nearly opposite to Croesus, on whom, in total silence and without once

indulging in a smile at the king's jests, his eyes had been fixed

from the beginning of the revel. When the Pharaoh ceased to speak, he

accosted Croesus suddenly with the following question: "I would know,

Lydian, whether the snow still covered the mountains, when ye left

Persia."

Smiling, and a little surprised at this strange speech, Croesus

answered: "Most of the Persian mountains were green when we started for

Egypt four months ago; but there are heights in the land of Cambyses

on which, even in the hottest seasons, the snow never melts, and the

glimmer of their white crests we could still perceive, as we descended

into the plains."

The Spartan's face brightened visibly, and Croesus, attracted by this

serious, earnest man, asked his name. "My name is Aristomachus."

"That name seems known to me."

"You were acquainted with many Hellenes, and my name is common among

them."

"Your dialect would bespeak you my opinion a Spartan."

"I was one once."

"And now no more?"

"He who forsakes his native land without permission, is worthy of

death."

"Have you forsaken it with your own free-will?"

"Yes."

"For what reason?"

"To escape dishonor."

"What was your crime?"

"I had committed none."

"You were accused unjustly?"

"Yes."

"Who was the author of your ill-fortune?"

"Yourself."

Croesus started from his seat. The serious tone and gloomy face of

the Spartan proved that this was no jest, and those who sat near the

speakers, and had been following this strange dialogue, were alarmed and

begged Aristomachus to explain his words.

He hesitated and seemed unwilling to speak; at last, however, at the

king's summons, he began thus:

"In obedience to the oracle, you, Croesus, had chosen us Lacedaemonians,

as the most powerful among the Hellenes, to be your allies against the

might of Persia; and you gave us gold for the statue of Apollo on Mount

Thornax. The ephori, on this, resolved to present you with a gigantic

bronze wine-bowl, richly wrought. I was chosen as bearer of this gift.

Before reaching Sardis our ship was wrecked in a storm. The wine-cup

sank with it, and we reached Samos with nothing but our lives. On

returning home I was accused by enemies, and those who grudged my good

fortune, of having sold both ship and wine-vessel to the Samians. As

they could not convict me of the crime, and had yet determined on my

ruin, I was sentenced to two days' and nights' exposure on the pillory.

My foot was chained to it during the night; but before the morning of

disgrace dawned, my brother brought me secretly a sword, that my honor

might be saved, though at the expense of my life. But I could not

die before revenging myself on the men who had worked my ruin; and

therefore, cutting the manacled foot from my leg, I escaped, and hid in

the rushes on the banks of the Furotas. My brother brought me food and

drink in secret; and after two months I was able to walk on the wooden

leg you now see. Apollo undertook my revenge; he never misses his mark,

and my two worst opponents died of the plague. Still I durst not return

home, and at length took ship from Gythium to fight against the Persians

under you, Croesus. On landing at Teos, I heard that you were king no

longer, that the mighty Cyrus, the father of yonder beautiful youth, had

conquered the powerful province of Lydia in a few weeks, and reduced the

richest of kings to beggary."

Every guest gazed at Aristomachus in admiration. Croesus shook his hard

hand; and Bartja exclaimed: "Spartan, I would I could take you back with

me to Susa, that my friends there might see what I have seen myself, the

most courageous, the most honorable of men!"

"Believe me, boy," returned Aristomachus smiling, "every Spartan would

have done the same. In our country it needs more courage to be a coward

than a brave man."

"And you, Bartja," cried Darius, the Persian king's cousin, "could you

have borne to stand at the pillory?" Bartja reddened, but it was easy to

see that he too preferred death to disgrace.

"Zopyrus, what say you?" asked Darius of the third young Persian.

"I could mutilate my own limbs for love of you two," answered he,

grasping unobserved the hands of his two friends.

With an ironical smile Psamtik sat watching this scene--the pleased

faces of Amasis, Croesus and Gyges, the meaning glances of the

Egyptians, and the contented looks with which Aristomachus gazed on the

young heroes.

Ibykus now told of the oracle which had promised Aristomachus a return

to his native land, on the approach of the men from the snowy mountains,

and at the same time, mentioned the hospitable house of Rhodopis.

On hearing this name Psamtik grew restless; Croesus expressed a wish to

form the acquaintance of the Thracian matron, of whom AEsop had related

so much that was praiseworthy; and, as the other guests, many of whom

had lost consciousness through excessive drinking, were leaving the

hall, the dethroned monarch, the poet, the sculptor and the Spartan hero

made an agreement to go to Naukratis the next day, and there enjoy the

conversation of Rhodopis.

CHAPTER VI.

On the night following the banquet just described, Amasis allowed

himself only three hours' rest. On this, as on every other morning, the

young priests wakened him at the first cock-crow, conducted him as usual

to the bath, arrayed him in the royal vestments and led him to the altar

in the court of the palace, where in presence of the populace he offered

sacrifice. During the offering the priests sang prayers in a loud voice,

enumerated the virtues of their king, and, that blame might in no case

light on the head of their ruler, made his bad advisers responsible for

every deadly sin committed in ignorance.

They exhorted him to the performance of good deeds, while extolling his

virtues; read aloud profitable portions of the holy writings, containing

the deeds and sayings of great men, and then conducted him to his

apartments, where letters and information from all parts of the kingdom

awaited him.

Amasis was in the habit of observing most faithfully these

daily-repeated ceremonies and hours of work; the remaining portion of

the day he spent as it pleased him, and generally in cheerful society.

The priests reproached him with this, alleging that such a life was

not suited to a monarch; and on one occasion he had thus replied to the

indignant high-priest: "Look at this bow! if always bent it must lose

its power, but, if used for half of each day and then allowed to rest,

it will remain strong and useful till the string breaks."

Amasis had just signed his name to the last letter, granting the

petition of a Nornarch--[Administrator of a Province]--for money

to carry on different embankments rendered necessary by the last

inundation, when a servant entered, bringing a request from the

crown-prince Psamtik for an audience of a few minutes.

Amasis, who till this moment had been smiling cheerfully at the cheering

reports from all parts of the country, now became suddenly serious and

thoughtful. After long delay he answered: "Go and inform the prince that

he may appear."

Psamtik appeared, pale and gloomy as ever; he bowed low and

reverentially, on entering his father's presence.

Amasis nodded silently in return, and then asked abruptly and sternly:

"What is thy desire? my time is limited."

"For your son, more than for others," replied the prince with quivering

lips. "Seven times have I petitioned for the great favor, which thou

grantest for the first time to-day."

"No reproaches! I suspect the reason of thy visit. Thou desirest an

answer to thy doubts as to the birth of thy sister Nitetis."

"I have no curiosity; I come rather to warn thee, and to remind thee

that I am not the only one who is acquainted with this mystery."

"Speakest thou of Phanes?"

"Of whom else should I speak? He is banished from Egypt and from his

own country, and must leave Naukratis in a few days. What guarantee hast

thou, that he will not betray us to the Persians?"

"The friendship and kindness which I have always shown him."

"Dost thou believe in the gratitude of men?"

"No! but I rely on my own discernment of character. Phanes will not

betray us! he is my friend, I repeat it!"

"Thy friend perhaps, but my mortal enemy!"

"Then stand on thy guard! I have nothing to fear from him."

"For thyself perhaps nought, but for our country! O father, reflect that

though as thy son I may be hateful in thine eyes, yet as Egypt's future

I ought to be near thy heart. Remember, that at thy death, which may the

gods long avert, I shall represent the existence of this glorious land

as thou dost now; my fall will be the ruin of thine house, of Egypt!"

Amasis became more and more serious, and Psamtik went on eagerly: "Thou

knowest that I am right! Phanes can betray our land to any foreign

enemy; he is as intimately acquainted with it as we are; and beside

this, he possesses a secret, the knowledge of which would convert our

most powerful ally into a most formidable enemy."

"There thou art in error. Though not mine, Nitetis is a king's daughter

and will know how to win the love of her husband."

"Were she the daughter of a god, she could not save thee from Cambyses'

wrath, if he discovers the treachery; lying is to a Persian the worst

of crimes, to be deceived the greatest disgrace; thou hast deceived the

highest and proudest of the nation, and what can one inexperienced girl

avail, when hundreds of women, deeply versed in intrigue and artifice,

are striving for the favor of their lord?"

"Hatred and revenge are good masters in the art of rhetoric," said

Amasis in a cutting tone. "And think'st thou then, oh, foolish son,

that I should have undertaken such a dangerous game without due

consideration? Phanes may tell the Persians what he likes, he can never

prove his point. I, the father, Ladice the mother must know best whether

Nitetis is our child or not. We call her so, who dare aver the contrary?

If it please Phanes to betray our land to any other enemy beside the

Persians, let him; I fear nothing! Thou wouldst have me ruin a man who

has been my friend, to whom I owe much gratitude, who has served me long

and faithfully; and this without offence from his side. Rather will I

shelter him from thy revenge, knowing as I do the impure source from

which it springs."

"My father!"

"Thou desirest the ruin of this man, because he hindered thee from

taking forcible possession of the granddaughter of Rhodopis, and because

thine own incapacity moved me to place him in thy room as commander

of the troops. Ah! thou growest pale! Verily, I owe Phanes thanks for

confiding to me your vile intentions, and so enabling me to bind my

friends and supporters, to whom Rhodopis is precious, more firmly to my

throne."

"And is it thus thou speakest of these strangers, my father? dost thou

thus forget the ancient glory of Egypt? Despise me, if thou wilt; I know

thou lovest me not; but say not that to be great we need the help of

strangers! Look back on our history! Were we not greatest when our gates

were closed to the stranger, when we depended on ourselves and our own

strength, and lived according to the ancient laws of our ancestors

and our gods? Those days beheld the most distant lands subjugated by

Rameses, and heard Egypt celebrated in the whole world as its first and

greatest nation. What are we now? The king himself calls beggars and

foreigners the supporters of his throne, and devises a petty stratagem

to secure the friendship of a power over whom we were victorious before

the Nile was infested by these strangers. Egypt was then a mighty Queen

in glorious apparel; she is now a painted woman decked out in tinsel!"

[Rameses the Great, son of Sethos, reigned over Egypt 1394-1328 B.

C. He was called Sesostris by the Greeks; see Lepsius (Chron. d.

Aegypter, p. 538.) on the manner in which this confusion of names

arose. Egypt attained the zenith of her power under this king,

whose army, according to Diodorus (I. 53-58). consisted of 600,000

foot and 24,000 horsemen, 27,000 chariots and 400 ships of war.

With these hosts he subdued many of the Asiatic and African nations,

carving his name and likeness, as trophies of victory, on the rocks

of the conquered countries. Herodotus speaks of having seen two of

these inscriptions himself (II. 102-106.) and two are still to be

found not far from Bairut. His conquests brought vast sums of

tribute into Egypt. Tacitus annal. II. 60. and these enabled him to

erect magnificent buildings in the whole length of his land from

Nubia to Tanis, but more especially in Thebes, the city in which he

resided. One of the obelisks erected by Rameses at Heliopolis is

now standing in the Place de la Concorde at Paris, and has been

lately translated by E. Chabas. On the walls of the yet remaining

palaces and temples, built under this mighty king, we find, even to

this day, thousands of pictures representing himself, his armed

hosts, the many nations subdued by the power of his arms, and the

divinities to whose favor he believed these victories were owing.

Among the latter Ammon and Bast seem to have received his especial

veneration, and, on the other hand, we read in these inscriptions

that the gods were very willing to grant the wishes of their

favorite. A poetical description of the wars he waged with the

Cheta is to be found in long lines of hieroglyphics on the south

wall of the hall of columns of Rameses II. at Karnal, also at Luxor

and in the Sallier Papyrus, and an epic poem referring to his mighty

deeds in no less than six different places.]

"Have a care what thou sayest!" shouted Amasis stamping on the floor.

"Egypt was never so great, so flourishing as now! Rameses carried our

arms into distant lands and earned blood; through my labors the products

of our industry have been carried to all parts of the world and instead

of blood, have brought us treasure and blessing. Rameses caused the

blood and sweat of his subjects to flow in streams for the honor of his

own great name; under my rule their blood flows rarely, and the sweat

of their brow only in works of usefulness. Every citizen can now end his

days in prosperity and comfort. Ten thousand populous cities rise on the

shores of the Nile, not a foot of the soil lies untilled, every child

enjoys the protection of law and justice, and every ill-doer shuns the

watchful eye of the authorities.

"In case of attack from without, have we not, as defenders of those

god-given bulwarks, our cataracts, our sea and our deserts, the finest

army that ever bore arms? Thirty thousand Hellenes beside our entire

Egyptian military caste? such is the present condition of Egypt! Rameses

purchased the bright tinsel of empty fame with the blood and tears of

his people. To me they are indebted for the pure gold of a peaceful

welfare as citizens--to me and to my predecessors, the Saitic kings!"

[The science of fortification was very fairly understood by the

ancient Egyptians. Walled and battlemented forts are to be seen

depicted on their monuments. We have already endeavored to show

(see our work on Egypt. I. 78 and following) that, on the northeast,

Egypt defended from Asiatic invasion by a line of forts extending

from Pelusium to the Red Sea.]

"And yet I tell thee," cried the prince, "that a worm is gnawing at the

root of Egypt's greatness and her life. This struggle for riches and

splendor corrupts the hearts of the people, foreign luxury has given a

deadly blow to the simple manners of our citizens, and many an Egyptian

has been taught by the Greeks to scoff at the gods of his fathers. Every

day brings news of bloody strife between the Greek mercenaries and our

native soldiery, between our own people and the strangers. The shepherd

and his flock are at variance; the wheels of the state machinery are

grinding one another and thus the state itself, into total ruin. This

once, father, though never again, I must speak out clearly what is

weighing on my heart. While engaged in contending with the priests, thou

hast seen with calmness the young might of Persia roll on from the East,

consuming the nations on its way, and, like a devouring monster, growing

more and more formidable from every fresh prey. Thine aid was not, as

thou hadst intended, given to the Lydians and Babylonians against the

enemy, but to the Greeks in the building of temples to their false gods.

At last resistance seemed hopeless; a whole hemisphere with its rulers

lay in submission at the feet of Persia; but even then the gods

willed Egypt a chance of deliverance. Cambyses desired thy daughter in

marriage. Thou, however, too weak to sacrifice thine own flesh and blood

for the good of all, hast substituted another maiden, not thine own

child, as an offering to the mighty monarch; and at the same time, in

thy soft-heartedness, wilt spare the life of a stranger in whose hand he

the fortunes of this realm, and who will assuredly work its ruin; unless

indeed, worn out by internal dissension, it perish even sooner from its

own weakness!"

Thus far Amasis had listened to these revilings of all he held dearest

in silence, though pale, and trembling with rage; but now he broke forth

in a voice, the trumpet-like sound of which pealed through the wide

hall: "Know'st thou not then, thou boasting and revengeful son of evil,

thou future destroyer of this ancient and glorious kingdom, know'st

thou not whose life must be the sacrifice, were not my children, and the

dynasty which I have founded, dearer to me than the welfare of the whole

realm? Thou, Psamtik, thou art the man, branded by the gods, feared by

men--the man to whose heart love and friendship are strangers, whose

face is never seen to smile, nor his soul known to feel compassion!

It is not, however, through thine own sin that thy nature is thus

unblessed, that all thine undertakings end unhappily. Give heed, for now

I am forced to relate what I had hoped long to keep secret from thine

ears. After dethroning my predecessor, I forced him to give me his

sister Tentcheta in marriage. She loved me; a year after marriage there

was promise of a child. During the night preceding thy birth I fell

asleep at the bedside of my wife. I dreamed that she was lying on the

shores of the Nile, and complained to me of pain in the breast. Bending

down, I beheld a cypress-tree springing from her heart. It grew larger

and larger, black and spreading, twined its roots around thy mother and

strangled her. A cold shiver seized me, and I was on the point of flying

from the spot, when a fierce hurricane came from the East, struck the

tree and overthrew it, so that its spreading branches were cast into the

Nile. Then the waters ceased to flow; they congealed, and, in place

of the river, a gigantic mummy lay before me. The towns on its banks

dwindled into huge funereal urns, surrounding the vast corpse of the

Nile as in a tomb. At this I awoke and caused the interpreters of dreams

to be summoned. None could explain the vision, till at last the priests

of the Libyan Ammon gave me the following interpretation 'Tentcheta will

die in giving birth to a son. The cypress, which strangled its mother,

is this gloomy, unhappy man. In his days a people shall come from the

East and shall make of the Nile, that is of the Egyptians, dead bodies,

and of their cities ruinous heaps; these are the urns for the dead,

which thou sawest."

Psamtik listened as if turned into stone; his father continued; "Thy

mother died in giving birth to thee; fiery-red hair, the mark of the

sons of Typhon, grew around thy brow; thou becam'st a gloomy man.

Misfortune pursued thee and robbed thee of a beloved wife and four of

thy children. The astrologers computed that even as I had been born

under the fortunate sign of Amman, so thy birth had been watched over

by the rise of the awful planet Seb. Thou..." But here Amasis broke off,

for Psamtik, in the anguish produced by these fearful disclosures had

given way, and with sobs and groans, cried:

"Cease, cruel father! spare me at least the bitter words, that I am the

only son in Egypt who is hated by his father without cause!"

Amasis looked down on the wretched man who had sunk to the earth before

him, his face hidden in the folds of his robe, and the father's wrath

was changed to compassion. He thought of Psamtik's mother, dead forty

years before, and felt he had been cruel in inflicting this poisonous

wound on her son's soul. It was the first time for years, that he had

been able to feel towards this cold strange man, as a father and a

comforter. For the first time he saw tears in the cold eyes of his son,

and could feel the joy of wiping them away. He seized the opportunity

at once, and bending clown over the groaning form, kissed his forehead,

raised him from the ground and said gently:

"Forgive my anger, my son! the words that have grieved thee came not

from my heart, but were spoken in the haste of wrath. Many years hast

thou angered me by thy coldness, hardness and obstinacy; to-day thou

hast wounded me again in my most sacred feelings; this hurried me into

an excess of wrath. But now all is right between us. Our natures are so

diverse that our innermost feelings will never be one, but at least we

can act in concert for the future, and show forbearance one towards the

other."

In silence Psamtik bowed down and kissed his father's robe "Not so,"

exclaimed the latter; "rather let my lips receive thy kiss, as is meet

and fitting between father and son! Thou needest not to think again of

the evil dream I have related. Dreams are phantoms, and even if sent

by the gods, the interpreters thereof are human and erring. Thy hand

trembles still, thy cheeks are white as thy robe. I was hard towards

thee, harder than a father...."

"Harder than a stranger to strangers," interrupted his son. "Thou hast

crushed and broken me, and if till now my face has seldom worn a

smile, from this day forward it can be naught but a mirror of my inward

misery."

"Not so," said Amasis, laying his hand on his son's shoulder. "If I

wound, I can also heal. Tell me the dearest wish of thy heart, it shall

be granted thee!"

Psamtik's eyes flashed, his sallow cheeks glowed for a moment, and he

answered without consideration, though in a voice still trembling from

the shock he had just received: "Deliver Phanes, my enemy, into my

power!"

The king remained a few moments in deep thought, then answered: "I knew

what thou wouldst ask, and will fulfil thy desire: but I would rather

thou hadst asked the half of my treasures. A thousand voices within warn

me that I am about to do an unworthy deed and a ruinous--ruinous for

myself, for thee, the kingdom and our house. Reflect before acting, and

remember, whatever thou mayst meditate against Phanes, not a hair of

Rhodopis' head shall be touched. Also, that the persecution of my poor

friend is to remain a secret from the Greeks. Where shall I find his

equal as a commander, an adviser and a companion? He is not yet in thy

power, however, and I advise thee to remember, that though thou mayst be

clever for an Egyptian, Phanes is a clever Greek. I will remind thee

too of thy solemn oath to renounce the grandchild of Rhodopis. Methinks

vengeance is dearer to thee than love, and the amends I offer will

therefore be acceptable! As to Egypt, I repeat once again, she was never

more flourishing than now; a fact which none dream of disputing, except

the priests, and those who retail their foolish words. And now give ear,

if thou wouldst know the origin of Nitetis. Self-interest will enjoin

secrecy."

Psamtik listened eagerly to his father's communication, indicating his

gratitude at the conclusion by a warm pressure of the hand.

"Now farewell," said Amasis. "Forget not my words, and above all shed no

blood! I will know nothing of what happens to Phanes, for I hate cruelty

and would not be forced to stand in horror of my own son. But thou, thou

rejoicest! My poor Athenian, better were it for thee, hadst thou never

entered Egypt!"

Long after Psamtik had left, his father continued to pace the hall in

deep thought. He was sorry he had yielded; it already seemed as if he

saw the bleeding Phanes lying massacred by the side of the dethroned

Hophra. "It is true, he could have worked our ruin," was the plea he

offered to the accuser within his own breast, and with these words,

he raised his head, called his servants and left the apartment with a

smiling countenance.

Had this sanguine man, this favorite of fortune, thus speedily quieted

the warning voice within, or was he strong enough to cloak his torture

with a smile?

CHAPTER VII.

Psamtik went at once from his father's apartments to the temple of the

goddess Neith. At the entrance he asked for the high-priest and was

begged by one of the inferior priests to wait, as the great Neithotep

was at that moment praying in the holiest sanctuary of the exalted Queen

of Heaven.

[The temples of Egypt were so constructed as to intensify the

devotion of the worshipper by conducting him onward through a series

of halls or chambers gradually diminishing in size. "The way

through these temples is clearly indicated, no digression is

allowed, no error possible. We wander on through the huge and

massive gates of entrance, between the ranks of sacred animals. The

worshipper is received into an ample court, but by degrees the walls

on either side approach one another, the halls become less lofty,

all is gradually tending towards one point. And thus we wander on,

the sights and sounds of God's world without attract us no longer,

we see nothing but the sacred representations which encompass us so

closely, feel only the solemnity of the temple in which we stand.

And the consecrated walls embrace us ever more and more closely,

until at last we reach the lonely, resonant chamber occupied by the

divinity himself, and entered by no human being save his priest."

Schnaase, Kunstaeschirhtc I. 394.]

After a short time a young priest appeared with the intelligence that

his superior awaited the Prince's visit. Psamtik had seated himself

under the shadow of the sacred grove of silver poplars bordering

the shores of the consecrated lake, holy to the great Neith. He rose

immediately, crossed the temple-court, paved with stone and asphalte, on

which the sun's rays were darting like fiery arrows, and turned into one

of the long avenues of Sphinxes which led to the isolated Pylons before

the gigantic temple of the goddess. He then passed through the principal

gate, ornamented, as were all Egyptian temple-entrances, with the winged

sun's disc. Above its widely-opened folding doors arose on either side,

tower-like buildings, slender obelisks and waving flags. The front of

the temple, rising from the earth in the form of an obtuse angle, had

somewhat the appearance of a fortress, and was covered with colored

pictures and inscriptions. Through the porch Psamtik passed on into a

lofty entrance-chamber, and from thence into the great hall itself,

the ceiling of which was strewn with thousands of golden stars, and

supported by four rows of lofty pillars. Their capitals were carved in

imitation of the lotus-flower, and these, the shafts of the columns, the

walls of this huge hall, and indeed every niche and corner that met the

eye were covered with brilliant colors and hieroglyphics. The columns

rose to a gigantic height, the eye seemed to wander through immeasurable

space, and the air breathed by the worshippers was heavy with the

fragrance of Kyphi and incense, and the odors which arose from the

laboratory attached to the temple. Strains of soft music, proceeding

from invisible hands, flowed on unceasingly, only occasionally

interrupted by the deep lowing of the sacred cows of Isis, or the shrill

call of the sparrow-hawk of Horus, whose habitations were in one of the

adjoining halls. No sooner did the prolonged low of a cow break like

distant thunder on the ear, or the sharp cry of the sparrow-hawk shoot

like a flash of lightning through the nerves of the worshippers, than

each crouching form bent lower still, and touched the pavement with his

forehead. On a portion of this pavement, raised above the rest, stood

the priests, some wearing ostrich-feathers on their bald and shining

heads; others panther-skins over their white-robed shoulders. Muttering

and singing, bowing low and rising again, they swung the censers and

poured libations of pure water to the gods out of golden vessels. In

this immense temple man seemed a dwarf in his own eyes. All his senses

even to the organs of respiration, were occupied by objects far removed

from daily life, objects that thrilled and almost oppressed him.

Snatched from all that was familiar in his daily existence, he seemed

to grow dizzy and seek support beyond himself. To this the voice of the

priests directed him and the cries of the sacred animals were believed

to prove a divinity at hand.

Psamtik assumed the posture of a worshipper on the low, gilded and

cushioned couch set apart for him, but was unable to pay any real

devotion, and passed on to the adjoining apartment before mentioned,

where the sacred cows of Isis-Neith and the sparrow-hawk of Horus were

kept. These creatures were concealed from the gaze of the worshippers

by a curtain of rich fabric embroidered with gold; the people were only

allowed an occasional and distant glimpse of the adorable animals. When

Psamtik passed they were just being fed; cakes soaked in milk, salt

and clover-blossoms were placed in golden cribs for the cows, and small

birds of many-colored plumage in the beautifully-wrought and ornamented

cage of the sparrow-hawk. But, in his present mood, the heir to the

throne of Egypt had no eye for these rare sights; but ascended at

once, by means of a hidden staircase, to the chambers lying near the

observatory, where the high-priest was accustomed to repose after the

temple-service.

Neithotep, a man of seventy years, was seated in a splendid apartment.

Rich Babylonian carpets covered the floor and his chair was of gold,

cushioned with purple. A tastefully-carved footstool supported his feet,

his hands held a roll covered with hieroglyphics, and a boy stood behind

him with a fan of ostrich-feathers to keep away the insects.

The face of the old man was deeply lined now, but it might once have

been handsome, and in the large blue eyes there still lay evidence of a

quick intellect and a dignified self-respect.

His artificial curls had been laid aside, and the bald, smooth head

formed a strange contrast to the furrowed countenance, giving an

appearance of unusual height to the forehead, generally so very low

among the Egyptians. The brightly-colored walls of the room, on

which numerous sentences in hieroglyphic characters were painted, the

different statues of the goddess painted likewise in gay colors, and

the snow-white garments of the aged priest, were calculated to fill a

stranger not only with wonder, but with a species of awe.

The old man received the prince with much affection, and asked:

"What brings my illustrious son to the poor servant of the Deity?"

"I have much to report to thee, my father;" answered Psamtik with a

triumphant smile, "for I come in this moment from Amasis."

"Then he has at length granted thee an audience?"

"At length!"

"Thy countenance tells me that thou hast been favorably received by our

lord, thy father."

"After having first experienced his wrath. For, when I laid before him

the petition with which thou hadst entrusted me, he was exceeding wroth

and nearly crushed me by his awful words."

"Thou hadst surely grieved him by thy language. Didst thou approach

him as I advised thee, with lowliness, as a son humbly beseeching his

father?"

"No, my father, I was irritated and indignant."

"Then was Amasis right to be wrathful, for never should a son meet his

father in anger; still less when he hath a request to bring before him.

Thou know'st the promise, 'The days of him that honoreth his father

shall be many.'

[This Egyptian command hears a remarkable resemblance to the fifth

in the Hebrew decalogue, both having a promise annexed. It occurs

in the Prisse Papyrus, the most ancient sacred writing extant.]

In this one thing, my scholar, thou errest always; to gain thine ends

thou usest violence and roughness, where good and gentle words would

more surely prevail. A kind word hath far more power than an angry

one, and much may depend on the way in which a man ordereth his speech.

Hearken to that which I will now relate. In former years there was a

king in Egypt named Snefru, who ruled in Memphis. And it came to pass

that he dreamed, and in his dream his teeth fell out of his mouth.

And he sent for the soothsayers and told them the dream. The first

interpreter answered: 'Woe unto thee, O king, all thy kinsmen shall die

before thee!' Then was Snefru wroth, caused this messenger of evil to be

scourged, and sent for a second interpreter. He answered: 'O king, live

for ever, thy life shall be longer than the life of thy kinsmen and

the men of thy house!' Then the king smiled and gave presents unto

this interpreter, for though the interpretations were one, yet he had

understood to clothe his message in a web of fair and pleasant words.

Apprehendest thou? then hearken to my voice, and refrain from harsh

words, remembering that to the ear of a ruler the manner of a man's

speech is weightier than its matter."

"Oh my father, how often hast thou thus admonished me! how often have

I been convinced of the evil consequences of my rough words and angry

gestures! but I cannot change my nature, I cannot..."

"Say rather: I will not; for he that is indeed a man, dare never again

commit those sins of which he has once repented. But I have admonished

sufficiently. Tell me now how thou didst calm the wrath of Amasis."

"Thou knowest my father. When he saw that he had wounded me in the

depths of my soul by his awful words, he repented him of his anger. He

felt he had been too hard, and desired to make amends at any price."

"He hath a kindly heart, but his mind is blinded, and his senses taken

captive," cried the priest. "What might not Amasis do for Egypt, would

he but hearken to our counsel, and to the commandments of the gods!"

"But hear me, my father! in his emotion he granted me the life of

Phanes!"

"Thine eyes flash, Psamtik! that pleaseth me not. The Athenian must

die, for he has offended the gods; but though he that condemns must let

justice have her way, he should have no pleasure in the death of the

condemned; rather should he mourn. Now speak; didst thou obtain aught

further?"

"The king declared unto me to what house Nitetis belongs."

"And further naught?"

"No, my father; but art thou not eager to learn?... "

"Curiosity is a woman's vice; moreover, I have long known all that thou

canst tell me."

"But didst thou not charge me but yesterday to ask my father this

question?"

"I did do so to prove thee, and know whether thou wert resigned to the

Divine will, and wert walking in those ways wherein alone thou canst

become worthy of initiation into the highest grade of knowledge. Thou

hast told us faithfully all that thou hast heard, and thereby proved

that thou canst obey--the first virtue of a priest."

"Thou knewest then the father of Nitetis?"

"I myself pronounced the prayer over king Hophra's tomb."

"But who imparted the secret to thee?"

"The eternal stars, my son, and my skill in reading them."

"And do these stars never deceive?"

"Never him that truly understands them."

Psamtik turned pale. His father's dream and his own fearful horoscope

passed like awful visions through his mind. The priest detected at once

the change in his features and said gently: "Thou deem'st thyself a

lost man because the heavens prognosticated evil at thy birth; but take

comfort, Psamtik; I observed another sign in the heavens at that

moment, which escaped the notice of the astrologers. Thy horoscope was a

threatening, a very threatening one, but its omens may be averted, they

may..."

"O tell me, father, tell me how!"

"They must turn to good, if thou, forgetful of all else, canst live

alone to the gods, paying a ready obedience to the Divine voice audible

to us their priests alone in the innermost and holiest sanctuary."

"Father, I am ready to obey thy slightest word."

"The great goddess Neith, who rules in Sais, grant this, my son!"

answered the priest solemnly. "But now leave me alone," he continued

kindly, "lengthened devotions and the weight of years bring weariness.

If possible, delay the death of Phanes, I wish to speak with him before

he dies. Yet one more word. A troop of Ethiopians arrived yesterday.

These men cannot speak a word of Greek, and under a faithful leader,

acquainted with the Athenians and the locality, they would be the best

agents for getting rid of the doomed man, as their ignorance of the

language and the circumstances render treachery or gossip impossible.

Before starting for Naukratis, they must know nothing of the design

of their journey; the deed once accomplished, we can send them back to

Kush.--[The Egyptian name for Ethiopia.] Remember, a secret can never

be too carefully kept! Farewell." Psamtik had only left the room a few

moments, when a young priest entered, one of the king's attendants.

"Have I listened well, father?" he enquired of the old man.

"Perfectly, my son. Nothing of that which passed between Amasis and

Psamtik has escaped thine ears. May Isis preserve them long to thee!"

"Ah, father, a deaf man could have heard every word in the ante-chamber

to-day, for Amasis bellowed like an ox."

"The great Neith has smitten him with the lack of prudence, yet I

command thee to speak of the Pharaoh with more reverence. But now

return, keep thine eyes open and inform me at once if Amasis, as is

possible, should attempt to thwart the conspiracy against Phanes. Thou

wilt certainly find me here. Charge the attendants to admit no one, and

to say I am at my devotions in the Holy of holies. May the ineffable One

protect thy footsteps!"

[Isis, the wife or sister of Osiris, is the phenomena of nature, by

means of which the god is able to reveal himself to human

contemplation.]

..................................

While Psamtik was making every preparation for the capture of Phanes,

Croesus, accompanied by his followers, had embarked on board a royal

bark, and was on his way down the Nile to spend the evening with

Rhodopis.

His son Gyges and the three young Persians remained in Sais, passing the

time in a manner most agreeable to them.

Amasis loaded them with civilities, allowed them, according to Egyptian

custom, the society of his queen and of the twin-sisters, as they were

called, taught Gyges the game of draughts, and looking on while the

strong, dexterous, young heroes joined his daughters in the game of

throwing balls and hoops, so popular among Egyptian maidens, enlivened

their amusements with an inexhaustible flow of wit and humor.

[The Pharaohs themselves, as well as their subjects, were in the

habit of playing at draughts and other similar games. Rosellini

gives its Rameses playing with his daughter; see also two Egyptians

playing together, Wilkinson II. 419. An especially beautiful

draught-board exists in the Egyptian collection at the Louvre

Museum. The Egyptians hoped to be permitted to enjoy these

pleasures even in the other world.]

[Balls that have been found in the tombs are still to be seen; some,

for instance, in the Museum at Leyden.]

"Really," said Bartja, as he watched Nitetis catching the slight hoop,

ornamented with gay ribbons, for the hundredth time on her slender ivory

rod, "really we must introduce this game at home. We Persians are so

different from you Egyptians. Everything new has a special charm for

us, while to you it is just as hateful. I shall describe the game to Our

mother Kassandane, and she will be delighted to allow my brother's wives

this new amusement."

"Yes, do, do!" exclaimed the fair Tachot blushing deeply. "Then Nitetis

can play too, and fancy herself back again at home and among those she

loves; and Bartja," she added in a low voice, "whenever you watch the

hoops flying, you too must remember this hour."

"I shall never forget it," answered he with a smile, and then, turning

to his future sister-in-law, he called out cheerfully, "Be of good

courage, Nitetis, you will be happier than you fancy with us. We

Asiatics know how to honor beauty; and prove it by taking many wives."

Nitetis sighed, and the queen Ladice exclaimed, "On the contrary,

that very fact proves that you understand but poorly how to appreciate

woman's nature! You can have no idea, Bartja, what a woman feels on

finding that her husband--the man who to her is more than life itself,

and to whom she would gladly and without reserve give up all that

she treasures as most sacred--looks down on her with the same kind

of admiration that he bestows on a pretty toy, a noble steed, or a

well-wrought wine-bowl. But it is yet a thousand-fold more painful to

feel that the love which every woman has a right to possess for herself

alone, must be shared with a hundred others!"

"There speaks the jealous wife!" exclaimed Amasis. "Would you not fancy

that I had often given her occasion to doubt my faithfulness?"

"No, no, my husband," answered Ladice, "in this point the Egyptian men

surpass other nations, that they remain content with that which they

have once loved; indeed I venture to assert that an Egyptian wife is the

happiest of women.

[According to Diodorus (I. 27) the queen of Egypt held a higher

position than the king himself. The monuments and lists of names

certainly prove that women could rule with sovereign power. The

husband of the heiress to the throne became king. They had their

own revenues (Diodorus I. 52) and when a princess, after death, was

admitted among the goddesses, she received her own priestesses.

(Edict of Canopus.) During the reigns of the Ptolemies many coins

were stamped with the queen's image and cities were named for them.

We notice also that sons, in speaking of their descent, more

frequently reckon it from the mother's than the father's side, that

a married woman is constantly alluded to as the "mistress" or "lady"

of the house, that according to many a Greek Papyrus they had entire

disposal of all their property, no matter in what it consisted, in

short that the weaker sex seems to have enjoyed equal influence with

the stronger.]

Even the Greeks, who in so many things may serve as patterns to us, do

not know how to appreciate woman rightly. Most of the young Greek girls

pass their sad childhood in close rooms, kept to the wheel and the

loom by their mothers and those who have charge of them, and when

marriageable, are transferred to the quiet house of a husband they do

not know, and whose work in life and in the state allows him but seldom

to visit his wife's apartments. Only when the most intimate friends and

nearest relations are with her husband, does she venture to appear in

their midst, and then shyly and timidly, hoping to hear a little of what

is going on in the great world outside. Ah, indeed! we women thirst

for knowledge too, and there are certain branches of learning at least,

which it cannot be right to withhold from those who are to be the

mothers and educators of the next generation. What can an Attic mother,

without knowledge, without experience, give to her daughters? Naught but

her own ignorance. And so it is, that a Hellene, seldom satisfied with

the society of his lawful, but, mentally, inferior wife, turns for

satisfaction to those courtesans, who, from their constant intercourse

with men, have acquired knowledge, and well understand how to adorn it

with the flowers of feminine grace, and to season it with the salt of a

woman's more refined and delicate wit. In Egypt it is different. A

young girl is allowed to associate freely with the most enlightened men.

Youths and maidens meet constantly on festive occasions, learn to know

and love one another. The wife is not the slave, but the friend of her

husband; the one supplies the deficiencies of the other. In weighty

questions the stronger decides, but the lesser cares of life are left

to her who is the greater in small things. The daughters grow up under

careful guidance, for the mother is neither ignorant nor inexperienced.

To be virtuous and diligent in her affairs becomes easy to a woman, for

she sees that it increases his happiness whose dearest possession she

boasts of being, and who belongs to her alone. The women only do that

which pleases us! but the Egyptian men understand the art of making

us pleased with that which is really good, and with that alone. On the

shores of the Nile, Phocylides of Miletus and Hipponax of Ephesus would

never have dared to sing their libels on women, nor could the fable of

Pandora have been possibly invented here!"

[Simonides of Amorgos, an Iambic poet, who delighted in writing

satirical verses on women. He divides them into different classes,

which he compares to unclean animals, and considers that the only

woman worthy of a husband and able to make him happy must be like

the bee. The well-known fable of Pandora owes its origin to

Simonides. He lived about 650 B. C. The Egyptians too, speak very

severely of bad women, comparing them quite in the Simonides style

to beasts of prey (hyenas, lions and panthers). We find this

sentence on a vicious woman: She is a collection of every kind of

meanness, and a bag full of wiles. Chabas, Papyr. magrque Harris.

p. 135. Phocylides of Miletus, a rough and sarcastic, but

observant man, imitated Simonides in his style of writing. But the

deformed Hipponax of Ephesus, a poet crushed down by poverty, wrote

far bitterer verses than Phocylides. He lived about 550 B. C. "His

own ugliness (according to Bernhardy) is reflected in every one of

his Choliambics." ]

"How beautifully you speak!" exclaimed Bartja. "Greek was not easy to

learn, but I am very glad now that I did not give it up in despair, and

really paid attention to Croesus' lessons."

"Who could those men have been," asked Darius, "who dared to speak evil

of women?"

"A couple of Greek poets," answered Amasis, "the boldest of men, for I

confess I would rather provoke a lioness than a woman. But these Greeks

do not know what fear is. I will give you a specimen of Hipponax's

Poetry:

"There are but two days when a wife,

Brings pleasure to her husband's life,

The wedding-day, when hopes are bright,

And the day he buries her out of his sight."

"Cease, cease," cried Ladice stopping her ears, that is too had. Now,

Persians, you can see what manner of man Amasis is. For the sake of

a joke, he will laugh at those who hold precisely the same opinion as

himself. There could not be a better husband.

"Nor a worse wife," laughed Amasis. "Thou wilt make men think that I am

a too obedient husband. But now farewell, my children; our young heroes

must look at this our city of Sais; before parting, however, I will

repeat to them what the malicious Siuionides has sung of a good wife:

"Dear to her spouse from youth to age she grows;

Fills with fair girls and sturdy boys his house;

Among all women womanliest seems,

And heavenly grace about her mild brow gleams.

A gentle wife, a noble spouse she walks,

Nor ever with the gossip mongers talks.

Such women sometimes Zeus to mortals gives,

The glory and the solace of their lives."

"Such is my Ladice! now farewell!"

"Not yet!" cried Bartja. "Let me first speak in defence of our poor

Persia and instil fresh courage into my future sister-in-law; but no!

Darius, thou must speak, thine eloquence is as great as thy skill in

figures and swordsmanship!"

"Thou speakst of me as if I were a gossip or a shopkeeper,"--[This

nickname, which Darius afterwards earned, is more fully spoken

of]--answered the son of Hystaspes. "Be it so; I have been burning all

this time to defend the customs of our country. Know then, Ladice, that

if Auramazda dispose the heart of our king in his own good ways, your

daughter will not be his slave, but his friend. Know also, that in

Persia, though certainly only at high festivals, the king's wives have

their places at the men's table, and that we pay the highest reverence

to our wives and mothers. A king of Babylon once took a Persian wife;

in the broad plains of the Euphrates she fell sick of longing for her

native mountains; he caused a gigantic structure to be raised on arches,

and the summit thereof to be covered with a depth of rich earth; caused

the choicest trees and flowers to be planted there, and watered by

artificial machinery. This wonder completed, he led his wife thither;

from its top she could look down into the plains below, as from the

heights of Rachined, and with this costly gift he presented her. Tell

me, could even an Egyptian give more?"

[This stupendous erection is said to have been constructed by

Nebuchadnezzar for his Persian wife Amytis. Curtius V. 5.

Josephus contra Apion. I. 19. Antiquities X. II. 1. Diod. II. 10.

For further particulars relative to the hanging-gardens, see later

notes.]

"And did she recover?" asked Nitetis, without raising her eyes.

"She recovered health and happiness; and you too will soon feel well and

happy in our country."

"And now," said Ladice with a smile, "what, think you, contributed most

to the young queen's recovery? the beautiful mountain or the love of the

husband, who erected it for her sake?"

"Her husband's love," cried the young girls.

"But Nitetis would not disdain the mountain either," maintained Bartja,

"and I shall make it my care that whenever the court is at Babylon, she

has the hanging-gardens for her residence."

"But now come," exclaimed Amasis, "unless you wish to see the city in

darkness. Two secretaries have been awaiting me yonder for the last two

hours. Ho! Sachons! give orders to the captain of the guard to accompany

our noble guests with a hundred men."

"But why? a single guide, perhaps one of the Greek officers, would be

amply sufficient."

"No, my young friends, it is better so. Foreigners can never be too

prudent in Egypt. Do not forget this, and especially be careful not to

ridicule the sacred animals. And now farewell, my young heroes, till we

meet again this evening over a merry wine-cup."

The Persians then quitted the palace, accompanied by their interpreter,

a Greek, but who had been brought up in Egypt, and spoke both languages

with equal facility.

[Psamtik I. is said to have formed a new caste, viz.: the caste of

Interpreters, out of those Greeks who had been born and bred up in

Egypt. Herod. II. 154. Herodotus himself was probably conducted by

such a "Dragoman."]

Those streets of Sais which lay near the palace wore a pleasant aspect.

The houses, many of which were five stories high, were generally covered

with pictures or hieroglyphics; galleries with balustrades of carved and

gaily-painted wood-work, supported by columns also brightly painted, ran

round the walls surrounding the courts. In many cases the proprietor's

name and rank was to be read on the door, which was, however, well

closed and locked. Flowers and shrubs ornamented the flat roofs, on

which the Egyptians loved to spend the evening hours, unless indeed,

they preferred ascending the mosquito-tower with which nearly every

house was provided. These troublesome insects, engendered by the Nile,

fly low, and these little watch-towers were built as a protection from

them.

The young Persians admired the great, almost excessive cleanliness, with

which each house, nay, even the streets themselves, literally shone. The

door-plates and knockers sparkled in the sun; paintings, balconies and

columns all had the appearance of having been only just finished, and

even the street-pavement looked as if it were often scoured.

[The streets of Egyptian towns seem to have been paved, judging from

the ruins of Alabastron and Memphis. We know at least with

certainty that this was the case with those leading to the temples.]

But as the Persians left the neighborhood of the Nile and the palace,

the streets became smaller. Sais was built on the slope of a moderately

high hill, and had only been the residence of the Pharaohs for two

centuries and a half, but, during that comparatively short interval, had

risen from an unimportant place into a town of considerable magnitude.

On its river-side the houses and streets were brilliant, but on the

hill-slope lay, with but few more respectable exceptions, miserable,

poverty-stricken huts constructed of acacia-boughs and Nile-mud. On the

north-west rose the royal citadel.

"Let us turn back here," exclaimed Gyges to his young companions. During

his father's absence he was responsible as their guide and protector,

and now perceived that the crowd of curious spectators, which had

hitherto followed them, was increasing at every step.

"I obey your orders," replied the interpreter, "but yonder in the

valley, at the foot of that hill, lies the Saitic city of the dead, and

for foreigners I should think that would be of great interest."

"Go forward!" cried Bartja. "For what did we leave Persia, if not to

behold these remarkable objects?"

On arriving at an open kind of square surrounded by workmen's booths,

and not far from the city of the dead, confused cries rose among the

crowd behind them.

[Artisans, as well among the ancient as the modern Egyptians, were

accustomed to work in the open air.]

The children shouted for joy, the women called out, and one voice louder

than the rest was heard exclaiming: "Come hither to the fore-court of

the temple, and see the works of the great magician, who comes from the

western oases of Libya and is endowed with miraculous gifts by Chunsu,

the giver of good counsels, and by the great goddess Hekt."

"Follow me to the small temple yonder," said the interpreter, "and you

will behold a strange spectacle." He pushed a way for himself and the

Persians through the crowd, obstructed in his course by many a sallow

woman and naked child; and at length came back with a priest, who

conducted the strangers into the fore-court of the temple. Here,

surrounded by various chests and boxes, stood a man in the dress of a

priest; beside him on the earth knelt two negroes. The Libyan was a

man of gigantic stature, with great suppleness of limb and a pair of

piercing black eyes. In his hand he held a wind-instrument resembling

a modern clarionet, and a number of snakes, known in Egypt to be

poisonous, lay coiling themselves over his breast and arms.

On finding himself in the presence of the Persians he bowed low,

inviting them by a solemn gesture to gaze at his performances; he then

cast off his white robe and began all kinds of tricks with the snakes.

He allowed them to bite him, till the blood trickled down his cheeks;

compelled them by the notes of his flute to assume an erect position

and perform a kind of dancing evolution; by spitting into their jaws

he transformed them to all appearance into motionless rods; and then,

dashing them all on to the earth, performed a wild dance in their midst,

yet without once touching a single snake.

Like one possessed, he contorted his pliant limbs until his eyes seemed

starting from his head and a bloody foam issued from his lips.

Suddenly he fell to the ground, apparently lifeless. A slight movement

of the lips and a low hissing whistle were the only signs of life; but,

on hearing the latter, the snakes crept up and twined themselves like

living rings around his neck, legs and body. At last he rose, sang a

hymn in praise of the divine power which had made him a magician,

and then laid the greater number of his snakes in one of the chests,

retaining a few, probably his favorites, to serve as ornaments for his

neck and arms.

The second part of this performance consisted of clever

conjuring-tricks, in which he swallowed burning flax, balanced swords

while dancing, their points standing in the hollow of his eye; drew long

strings and ribbons out of the noses of the Egyptian children, exhibited

the well-known cup-and-ball trick, and, at length, raised the admiration

of the spectators to its highest pitch, by producing five living rabbits

from as many ostrich-eggs.

The Persians formed no unthankful portion of the assembled crowd; on the

contrary, this scene, so totally new, impressed them deeply.

They felt as if in the realm of miracles, and fancied they had now seen

the rarest of all Egyptian rarities. In silence they took their way back

to the handsomer streets of Sais, without noticing how many mutilated

Egyptians crossed their path. These poor disfigured creatures were

indeed no unusual sight for Asiatics, who punished many crimes by the

amputation of a limb. Had they enquired however, they would have heard

that, in Egypt, the man deprived of his hand was a convicted forger, the

woman of her nose, an adulteress; that the man without a tongue had been

found guilty of high treason or false witness; that the loss of the ears

denoted a spy, and that the pale, idiotic-looking woman yonder had been

guilty of infanticide, and had been condemned to hold the little corpse

three days and three nights in her arms. What woman could retain her

senses after these hours of torture?--[Diodorus I. 77.]

The greater number of the Egyptian penal laws not only secured the

punishment of the criminal, but rendered a repetition of the offence

impossible.

The Persian party now met with a hindrance, a large crowd having

assembled before one of the handsomest houses in the street leading to

the temple of Neith. The few windows of this house that could be seen

(the greater number opening on the garden and court) were closed with

shutters, and at the door stood an old man, dressed in the plain white

robe of a priest's servant. He was endeavoring, with loud cries, to

prevent a number of men of his own class from carrying a large chest out

of the house.

"What right have you to rob my master?" he shrieked indignantly. "I am

the guardian of this house, and when my master left for Persia (may the

gods destroy that land!) he bade me take especial care of this chest in

which his manuscripts lay."

"Compose yourself, old Hib!" shouted one of these inferior priests, the

same whose acquaintance we made on the arrival of the Asiatic Embassy.

"We are here in the name of the high-priest of the great Neith, your

master's master. There must be queer papers in this box, or Neithotep

would not have honored us with his commands to fetch them."

"But I will not allow my master's papers to be stolen," shrieked the old

man. "My master is the great physician Nebenchari, and I will secure his

rights, even if I must appeal to the king himself."

"There," cried the other, "that will do; out with the chest, you

fellows. Carry it at once to the high-priest; and you, old man, would

do more wisely to hold your tongue and remember that the high-priest is

your master as well as mine. Get into the house as quick as you can, or

to-morrow we shall have to drag you off as we did the chest to-day!" So

saying, he slammed the heavy door, the old man was flung backward into

the house and the crowd saw him no more.

The Persians had watched this scene and obtained an explanation of its

meaning from their interpreter. Zopyrus laughed on hearing that the

possessor of the stolen chest was the oculist Nebenchari, the same who

had been sent to Persia to restore the sight of the king's mother, and

whose grave, even morose temper had procured him but little love at the

court of Cambyses.

Bartja wished to ask Amasis the meaning of this strange robbery, but

Gyges begged him not to interfere in matters with which he had no

concern. Just as they reached the palace, and darkness, which in Egypt

so quickly succeeds the daylight, was already stealing over the city,

Gyges felt himself hindered from proceeding further by a firm hand on

his robe, and perceived a stranger holding his finger on his lips in

token of silence.

"When can I speak with you alone and unobserved?" he whispered.

"What do you wish from me?"

"Ask no questions, but answer me quickly. By Mithras, I have weighty

matters to disclose."

"You speak Persian, but your garments would proclaim you an Egyptian."

"I am a Persian, but answer me quickly or we shall be noticed. When can

I speak to you alone?"

"To-morrow morning."

"That is too late."

"Well then, in a quarter of an hour, when it is quite dark, at this gate

of the palace."

"I shall expect you."

So saying the man vanished. Once within the palace, Gyges left Bartja

and Zopyrus, fastened his sword into his girdle, begged Darius to do

the same and to follow him, and was soon standing again under the great

portico with the stranger, but this time in total darkness.

"Auramazda be praised that you are there!" cried the latter in Persian

to the young Lydian; "but who is that with you?"

"Darius, the son of Hystaspes, one of the Achaemenidae; and my friend."

The stranger bowed low and answered, "It is well, I feared an Egyptian

had accompanied you."

"No, we are alone and willing to hear you; but be brief. Who are you and

what do you want?"

"My name is Bubares. I served as a poor captain under the great Cyrus.

At the taking of your father's city, Sardis, the soldiers were at first

allowed to plunder freely; but on your wise father's representing to

Cyrus that to plunder a city already taken was an injury to the present,

and not to the former, possessor, they were commanded on pain of death

to deliver up their booty to their captains, and the latter to cause

everything of worth, when brought to them, to be collected in the

market-place. Gold and silver trappings lay there in abundance, costly

articles of attire studded with precious stones..."

"Quick, quick, our time is short," interrupted Gyges.

"You are right. I must be more brief. By keeping for myself an

ointment-box sparkling with jewels, taken from your father's palace, I

forfeited my life. Croesus, however, pleaded for me with his conqueror

Cyrus; my life and liberty were granted me, but I was declared a

dishonored man. Life in Persia became impossible with disgrace lying

heavily on my soul; I took ship from Smyrna to Cyprus, entered the army

there, fought against Amasis, and was brought hither by Phanes as a

prisoner-of-war. Having always served as a horse-soldier, I was placed

among those slaves who had charge of the king's horses, and in six years

became an overseer. Never have I forgotten the debt of gratitude I owe

to your father; and now my turn has come to render him a service."

"The matter concerns my father? then speak--tell me, I beseech you!"

"Immediately. Has Croesus offended the crown prince?"

"Not that I am aware of."

"Your father is on a visit to Rhodopis this evening, at Naukratis?"

"How did you hear this?"

"From himself. I followed him to the boat this morning and sought to

cast myself at his feet."

"And did you succeed?"

"Certainly. He spoke a few gracious words with me, but could not wait to

hear what I would say, as his companions were already on board when he

arrived. His slave Sandon, whom I know, told me that they were going to

Naukratis, and would visit the Greek woman whom they call Rhodopis."

"He spoke truly."

"Then you must speed to the rescue. At the time that the market-place

was full."

[The forenoon among the Greeks was regulated by the business of the

market. "When the market-place begins to fill, when it is full,

when it becomes empty." It would be impossible to define this

division of time exactly according to our modern methods of

computation, but it seems certain that the market was over by the

afternoon. The busiest hours were probably from 10 till 1. At the

present day the streets of Athens are crowded during those hours;

but in Summer from two to four o'clock are utterly deserted.]

"Ten carriages and two boats, full of Ethiopian soldiers under the

command of an Egyptian captain, were sent off to Naukratis to surround

the house of Rhodopis and make captives of her guests."

"Ha, treachery!" exclaimed Gyges.

"But how can they wish to injure your father?" said Darius. "They know

that the vengeance of Cambyses--"

"I only know," repeated Bubares, "that this night the house of Rhodopis,

in which your father is, will be surrounded by Ethiopian soldiers. I

myself saw to the horses which transport them thither and heard Pentaur,

one of the crown-prince's fan-bearers, call to them, 'Keep eyes and ears

open, and let the house of Rhodopis be surrounded, lest he should escape

by the back door. If possible spare his life, and kill him only if he

resist. Bring him alive to Sais, and you shall receive twenty rings of

gold.'"

[It is no longer a matter of question, that before the time of the

Persians, and therefore at this point of our history, no money had

been coined in Egypt. The precious metals were weighed out and used

as money in the shape of rings, animals, etc. On many of the

monuments we see people purchasing goods and weighing out the gold

in payment; while others are paying their tribute in gold rings.

These rings were in use as a medium of payment up to the time of the

Ptolemies. Pliny XXXIII. I. Balances with weights in the form of

animals may be seen in Wilkinson. During the reigns of the

Ptolemies many coins were struck.]

"But could that allude to my father?"

"Certainly not," cried Darius.

"It is impossible to say," murmured Bubares. "In this country one can

never know what may happen."

"How long does it take for a good horse to reach Naukratis?"

"Three hours, if he can go so long, and the Nile has not overflowed the

road too much."

"I will be there in two."

"I shall ride with you," said Darius.

"No, you must remain here with Zopyrus for Bartja's protection. Tell the

servants to get ready."

"But Gyges--"

"Yes, you will stay here and excuse me to Amasis. Say I could not

come to the evening revel on account of headache, toothache, sickness,

anything you like."

"I shall ride Bartja's Nicaean horse; and you, Bubares, will follow me

on Darius's. You will lend him, my brother?"

"If I had ten thousand, you should have them all."

"Do you know the way to Naukratis, Bubares?"

"Blindfold."

"Then go, Darius, and tell them to get your horse and Bartja's ready! To

linger would be sin. Farewell Darius, perhaps forever! Protect Bartja!

Once more, farewell!"

CHAPTER VIII.

It wanted two hours of midnight. Bright light was streaming through the

open windows of Rhodopis' house, and sounds of mirth and gaiety fell on

the ear. Her table had been adorned with special care in Croesus' honor.

On the cushions around it lay the guests with whom we are already

acquainted: Theodorus, Ibykus, Phanes, Aristomachus, the merchant

Theopompus of Miletus, Croesus and others, crowned with chaplets of

poplar and roses.

Theodorus the sculptor was speaking: "Egypt seems to me," he said, "like

a girl who persists in wearing a tight and painful shoe only because

it is of gold, while within her reach he beautiful and well-fitting

slippers in which she could move at ease, if she only would."

"You refer to the Egyptians' pertinacity in retaining traditional forms

and customs?" asked Croesus.

"Certainly I do," answered the sculptor. "Two centuries ago Egypt was

unquestionably the first of the nations. In Art and Science she far

excelled us; but we learnt their methods of working, improved on them,

held firm to no prescribed proportions, but to the natural types alone,

gave freedom and beauty to their unbending outlines, and now have left

our masters far behind us. But how was this possible? simply because the

Egyptians, bound by unalterable laws, could make no progress; we, on the

contrary, were free to pursue our course in the wide arena of art as far

as will and power would allow."

"But how can an artist be compelled to fashion statues alike, which are

meant to differ from each other in what they represent?"

"In this case that can be easily explained. The entire human body is

divided by the Egyptians into 21 1/4 parts, in accordance with which

division the proportion of each separate limb is regulated. I, myself,

have laid a wager with Amasis, in presence of the first Egyptian

sculptor, (a priest of Thebes), that, if I send my brother Telekles, in

Ephesus, dimensions, proportion and attitude, according to the Egyptian

method, he and I together can produce a statue which shall look as if

sculptured from one block and by one hand, though Telekles is to carve

the lower half at Ephesus, and I the upper here in Sais, and under the

eye of Amasis."

[These numbers, and the story which immediately follows, are taken

from Diodorus I. 98. Plato tells us that, in his time, a law

existed binding the Egyptian artists to execute their works with

exactly the same amount of beauty or its reverse, as those which had

been made more than a thousand years before. This statement is

confirmed by the monuments; but any one well acquainted with

Egyptian art can discern a marked difference in the style of each

epoch. At the time of the ancient kingdom the forms were compressed

and stunted; under Seti I. beauty of proportion reached its highest

point. During and after the 20th dynasty the style declined in

beauty; in the 26th, under the descendants of Psammetichus, we meet

with a last revival of art, but the ancient purity of form was never

again attained.]

"And shall you win your wager?"

"Undoubtedly. I am just going to begin this trick of art; it will as

little deserve the name of a work of art, as any Egyptian statue."

"And yet there are single sculptures here which are of exquisite

workmanship; such, for instance, as the one Amasis sent to Samos as a

present to Polykrates. In Memphis I saw a statue said to be about three

thousand years old, and to represent a king who built the great Pyramid,

which excited my admiration in every respect. With what certainty and

precision that unusually hard stone has been wrought! the muscles, how

carefully carved! especially in the breast, legs and feet; the harmony

of the features too, and, above all, the polish of the whole, leave

nothing to be desired."

"Unquestionably. In all the mechanism of art, such as precision and

certainty in working even the hardest materials, the Egyptians, though

they have so long stood still in other points, are still far before us;

but to model form with freedom, to breathe, like Prometheus, a soul into

the stone, they will never learn until their old notions on this subject

have been entirely abandoned. Even the pleasing varieties of corporeal

life cannot be represented by a system of mere proportions, much less

those which are inner and spiritual. Look at the countless statues

which have been erected during the last three thousand years, in all the

temples and palaces from Naukratis up to the Cataracts. They are all

of one type, and represent men of middle age, with grave but benevolent

countenances. Yet they are intended, some as statues of aged monarchs,

others to perpetuate the memory of young princes. The warrior and the

lawgiver, the blood-thirsty tyrant and the philanthropist are only

distinguished from each other by a difference in size, by which the

Egyptian sculptor expresses the idea of power and strength. Amasis

orders a statue just as I should a sword. Breadth and length being

specified, we both of us know quite well, before the master has begun

his work, what we shall receive when it is finished. How could I

possibly fashion an infirm old man like an eager youth? a pugilist like

a runner in the foot-race? a poet like a warrior? Put Ibykus and our

Spartan friend side by side, and tell me what you would say, were I

to give to the stern warrior the gentle features and gestures of our

heart-ensnaring poet."

"Well, and how does Amasis answer your remarks on this stagnation in

art?"

"He deplores it; but does not feel himself strong enough to abolish the

restrictive laws of the priests."

"And yet," said the Delphian, "he has given a large sum towards the

embellishment of our new temple, expressly, (I use his own words) for

the promotion of Hellenic art!"

"That is admirable in him," exclaimed Croesus. "Will the Alkmaeonidae

soon have collected the three hundred talents necessary for the

completion of the temple? Were I as rich as formerly I would gladly

undertake the entire cost; notwithstanding that your malicious god so

cruelly deceived me, after all my offerings at his shrine. For when I

sent to ask whether I should begin the war with Cyrus, he returned this

answer: I should destroy a mighty kingdom by crossing the river Halys.

I trusted the god, secured the friendship of Sparta according to his

commands, crossed the boundary stream, and, in so doing, did indeed

destroy a mighty kingdom; not however that of the Medes and Persians,

but my own poor Lydia, which, as a satrapy of Cambyses, finds its loss

of independence a hard and uncongenial yoke."

"You blame the god unjustly," answered Phryxus. "It cannot be his fault

that you, in your human conceit, should have misinterpreted his oracle.

The answer did not say 'the kingdom of Persia,' but 'a kingdom' should

be destroyed through your desire for war. Why did you not enquire what

kingdom was meant? Was not your son's fate truly prophesied by the

oracle? and also that on the day of misfortune he would regain his

speech? And when, after the fall of Sardis, Cyrus granted your wish to

enquire at Delphi whether the Greek gods made a rule of requiting their

benefactors by ingratitude, Loxias answered that he had willed the best

for you, but was controlled by a mightier power than himself, by that

inexorable fate which had foretold to thy great ancestor, that his fifth

successor was doomed to destruction."

"In the first days of my adversity I needed those words far more than

now," interrupted Croesus. "There was a time when I cursed your god and

his oracles; but later, when with my riches my flatterers had left me,

and I became accustomed to pronounce judgment on my own actions, I saw

clearly that not Apollo, but my own vanity had been the cause of my

ruin. How could 'the kingdom to be destroyed' possibly mean mine,

the mighty realm of the powerful Croesus, the friend of the gods, the

hitherto unconquered leader? Had a friend hinted at this interpretation

of the ambiguous oracle, I should have derided, nay, probably caused him

to be punished. For a despotic ruler is like a fiery steed; the latter

endeavors to kick him who touches his wounds with intent to heal; the

former punishes him who lays a hand on the weak or failing points of his

diseased mind. Thus I missed what, if my eyes had not been dazzled, I

might easily have seen; and now that my vision is clearer, though I have

nothing to lose, I am far more often anxious than in the days when none

could possibly lose more than I. In comparison with those days, Phryxus,

I may be called a poor man now, but Cambyses does not leave me to

famish, and I can still raise a talent for your temple."

Phryxus expressed his thanks, and Phanes remarked "The Alkmaeonida; will

be sure to erect a beautiful edifice, for they are rich and ambitious,

and desirous of gaining favor with the Amphiktyons, in order, by their

aid, to overthrow the tyrants, secure to themselves a higher position

than that of the family to which I belong, and with this, the guidance

of state-affairs."

"Is it true, as people say," asked Ibykus, "that next to Agarista with

whom Megakles received so rich a dowry, you, Croesus, have been the

largest contributor to the wealth of the Alkmaeonidae?"

"True enough," answered Croesus laughing.

"Tell us the story, I beg," said Rhodopis.

"Well," answered Croesus, "Alkmaeon of Athens once appeared at my court;

his cheerfulness and cultivation pleased me well, and I retained him

near me for some time. One day I showed him my treasure-chambers, at the

sight of which he fell into despair, called himself a common beggar and

declared that one good handful of these precious things would make him

a happy man. I at once allowed him to take as much gold away as he

could carry. What think you did Alkaemmon on this? sent for high Lydian

riding-boots, an apron and a basket, had the one secured behind him, put

the others on, and filled them all with gold, till they could hold no

more. Not content with this, he strewed gold-dust in his hair and beard

and filled his mouth to that extent that he appeared in the act of

choking. In each hand he grasped a golden dish, and thus laden dragged

himself out of the treasure-house, falling exhausted as he crossed the

threshold. Never have I laughed so heartily as at this sight."

"But did you grant him all these treasures?" said Rhodopis.

"Yes, yes, my friend; and did not think even then, that I had paid too

dearly for the experience that gold can make fools even of clever men."

"You were the most generous of monarchs," cried Phanes.

"And make a tolerably contented beggar," answered Croesus. "But tell me,

Phryxus, how much has Amasis contributed to your collection?"

"He gave fifty tons of alum."

"A royal gift!"

"And the prince Psamtik?"

"On my appealing to him by his father's munificence, he turned his

back on me, and answered with a bitter laugh: 'Collect money for

the destruction of your temple, and I am ready to double my father's

donation!'"

"The wretch!"

"Say rather: the true Egyptian! to Psamtik everything foreign is an

abomination."

"How much have the Greeks in Naukratis contributed?"

"Beside munificent private donations, each community has given twenty

minae."

"That is much."

"Philoinus, the Sybarite, alone sent me a thousand drachmm, and

accompanied his gift with a most singular epistle. May I read it aloud,

Rhodopis?"

"Certainly," answered she, "it will show you that the drunkard has

repented of his late behaviour."

The Delphian began: "Philoinus to Phryxus: It grieves me that at

Rhodopis' house the other night I did not drink more; for had I done so

I should have lost consciousness entirely, and so have been unable

to offend even the smallest insect. My confounded abstemiousness is

therefore to blame, that I can no longer enjoy a place at the best table

in all Egypt. I am thankful, however, to Rhodopis for past enjoyment,

and in memory of her glorious roast-beef (which has bred in me the wish

to buy her cook at any price) I send twelve large spits for roasting

oxen,--[Rhodopis is said to have sent such a gift to Delphi.

Herod.]--and beg they may be placed in some treasure-house at Delphi as

an offering from Rhodopis. As for myself, being a rich man, I sign

my name for a thousand drachmae, and beg that my gift may be publicly

announced at the next Pythian games. To that rude fellow, Aristomachus

of Sparta, express my thanks for the effectual manner in which he

fulfilled my intention in coming to Egypt. I came hither for the purpose

of having a tooth extracted by an Egyptian dentist said to take out

teeth without causing much pain.

[The Egyptian dentists must have been very skilful. Artificial

teeth have been discovered in the jaws of mummies. See Blumenbach

on the teeth of the ancient Egyptians, and on mummies.]

Aristomachus, however, knocked out the defective tooth and so saved me

from an operation, the thought of which had often made me tremble. On

recovering consciousness, I found that three teeth had been knocked into

my mouth, the diseased one and two others, which though healthy, would

probably at some future time have caused me pain. Salute Rhodopis and

the handsome Phanes from me. You I invite to an entertainment at my

house in Sybaris, this day year. We are accustomed to issue invitations

somewhat early, on account of my necessary preparations. I have caused

this epistle to be written by my slave Sophotatus in an adjoining

chamber, as merely to behold the labor of writing causes cramp in my

fingers."

A burst of laughter arose at these words, but Rhodopis said: "This

letter gives me pleasure; it proves that Philoinus is not bad at heart.

Brought up a Sybarite."... She was suddenly interrupted by the voice of

a stranger, who had entered unperceived, and, after apologizing to the

venerable hostess and her guests for appearing without invitation among

them, continued thus: "I am Gyges the son of Croesus; and it has not

been merely for pastime, that I have ridden over from Sais in two hours

lest I should arrive too late!"

"Menon, a cushion for our guest!" cried Rhodopis. "Be welcome to my

house and take some repose after your wild, thoroughly Lydian, ride."

"By the dog, Gyges!" exclaimed Croesus.

[An oath of Rhadamanthus used in order to avoid mentioning the names

of the gods. Schol. Aristoph. Aves. 520.]

"What brings thee here at this hour? I begged thee not to quit Bartja's

side.... But how thou look'st! what is the matter? has aught happened?

speak, speak!"

In the first moment Gyges could not answer a word. To see his beloved

father, for whose very life he had been in such anxiety, a safe and

happy guest at this rich banquet, seemed to rob him of his speech a

second time. At last, however, he was able to say: "The gods be praised,

my father, that I see thee safe once more! Think not I forsook my post

thoughtlessly. Alas! I am forced to appear as a bird of evil omen in

this cheerful assembly. Know at once, ye guests, for I dare not lose

time in preparing my words, that a treacherous assault awaits ye!"

They all sprang up as if struck by lightning. Aristomachus silently

loosened his sword in its scabbard; Phanes extended his arms as if to

discern whether the old athletic elasticity still dwelt there.

"What can it be?--what is their design?" echoed from all sides.

"This house is surrounded by Ethiopian soldiers!" answered Gyges. "A

faithful fellow confided to me that the crown-prince had designs on one

of your number; he was to be taken alive if possible, but killed if he

resisted. Dreading lest thou shouldst be this victim, my father, I sped

hither. The fellow had not lied. This house is surrounded. My horse

shied on reaching your garden-gate, Rhodopis, jaded as he was. I

dismounted, and could discern behind every bush the glitter of weapons

and the eager eyes of men lying in ambush. They allowed us, however, to

enter unmolested."

At this moment Knakias rushed in crying, "Important news! On my way to

the Nile to fetch water with which to prepare the wine-cup, I have just

met a man who, in his haste, nearly ran over me.

[The water of the Nile has a very agreeable flavor. It is called by

one traveller the champagne among the waters. The ladies of the

Sultan's harem send for this water even from Constantinople, and the

Arabs say, that if Mahomet had drunk thereof he would have desired

to live for ever.]

It was an Ethiop, one of Phanes' boatmen, and he tells that just as

he sprang out of the boat to bathe, a royal bark came alongside and a

soldier asked the rest of the crew in whose service they were. On the

helmsman answering, 'in Phanes' service,' the royal boat passed on

slowly. He, however, (the rower who was bathing), seated himself in

fun on the rudder of the royal boat, and heard one Ethiopian soldier on

board say to another, 'Keep that craft well in sight; now we know where

the bird sits, and it will be easy to catch him. Remember, Psamtik has

promised us fifty gold rings if we bring the Athenian to Sais dead or

alive.' This is the report of Sebek, who has been in your service seven

years, O Phanes."

To both these accounts Phanes listened calmly. Rhodopis trembled.

Aristomachus exclaimed, "Not a hair of your head shall be touched, if

Egypt perish for it!" Croesus advised prudence. A tremendous excitement

had mastered the whole party.

At last Phanes broke silence, saying: "Reflection is never more

necessary than in a time of danger. I have thought the matter over, and

see clearly that escape will be difficult. The Egyptians will try to

get rid of me quietly. They know that I intend going on board a Phoecean

trireme, which sets sail for Sigeum at a very early hour to-morrow

morning, and have therefore no time to lose, if they will seize me. Your

garden, Rhodopis, is entirely surrounded, and were I to remain here,

your house would no longer be respected as a sanctuary; it would be

searched and I taken in it. There can be no doubt that a watch has been

set over the Phoecean ship also. Blood shall not be shed in vain on my

account."

"But you dare not surrender!" cried Aristomachus.

"No, no, I have a plan," shouted Theopompus the Milesian merchant. "At

sunrise to-morrow a ship sails for Miletus laden with Egyptian corn,

but not from Naukratis, from Canopus. Take the noble Persian's horse and

ride thither. We will cut a way for you through the garden."

"But," said Gyges, "our little band is not strong enough to carry out

such an attempt. We number in all ten men, and of these only three have

swords; our enemies, on the other hand, number at least a hundred, and

are armed to the teeth."

"Lydian!" cried Aristomachus, "wert thou ten times more fainthearted

than thou art, and were our enemies double their number, I at least,

will fight them!"

Phanes grasped his friend's hand. Gyges turned pale. This brave warrior

had called him fainthearted; and again he could find no words to answer;

for at every stirring emotion his tongue failed him. Suddenly the

blood mounted to his face; his words came quickly and with decision:

"Athenian, follow me! and thou, Spartan, who art not wont to use words

heedlessly, call no man fainthearted again before thou knowest him.

Friends, Phanes is safe, Farewell, father!"

The remaining guests surveyed these two departing men in silent wonder.

As they stood there, silently listening, the sound of two horses

galloping swiftly away fell on their ear, and after a longer interval a

prolonged whistle from the Nile and a cry of distress.

"Where is Knakias?" said Rhodopis to one of her slaves.

"He went into the garden with Phanes and the Persian," was the

answer, and as it was being spoken, the old slave re-entered, pale and

trembling.

"Have you seen my son?" cried Croesus. "Where is Phanes?"

"I was to bid you farewell from them both."

"Then they are gone.--Whither? How was it possible?"...

"The Athenian and the Persian," began the slave, "had a slight dispute

in the anteroom. This over, I was told to divest both of their robes.

Phanes then put on the stranger's trousers, coat and girdle; on his own

curls he placed the pointed Persian cap. The stranger wrapped himself

in the Athenian's chiton and mantle, placed the golden circlet above his

brow, caused the hair to be shaved from his upper lip, and ordered me

to follow him into the garden. Phanes, whom in his present dress, none

could imagine to be other than a Persian, mounted one of the horses

still waiting before the gate; the stranger called after him, 'Farewell

Gyges, farewell beloved Persian, a pleasant journey to thee, Gyges!' The

servant, who had been waiting, followed on the other horse. I could hear

the clatter of arms among the bushes, but the Athenian was allowed to

depart unmolested, the soldiers, without doubt, believing him to be a

Persian.

"On returning to the house the stranger's orders were: 'Accompany me to

Phanes' bark, and cease not to call me by the Athenian's name.' 'But the

boatmen will betray you,' I said. 'Then go alone to them,' he answered,

'and command them to receive me as their master, Phanes.' Then I prayed

him to allow me to take the dress of the fugitive and become a prey to

the pursuers; but he would by no means allow this, and said my gait and

carriage would betray me. There alas! he spoke truly, for only the free

man can walk erect; the neck of the slave is bent; the schools in which

the noble and the freeborn learn grace and beauty of movement are

not for him. And so it must remain, the children must be even as the

fathers; can the unclean onion-root produce a rose, or the unsightly

radish a hyacinth? Constant bondage bows the neck of the slave, but the

consciousness of freedom gives dignity to the stature."

"But what has become of my son?" interrupted Croesus.

"He would not accept my poor offer, and took his seat in the bark,

sending a thousand greetings unto thee, O king! I cried after him,

'Farewell Phanes! I wish thee a prosperous journey, Phanes!' At that

moment a cloud crossed the moon; and from out the thick darkness I heard

screams, and cries for help; they did not, however, last long, a shrill

whistle followed, then all was silent; and the measured strokes of

oars were the only sounds that fell on my ear. I was on the point of

returning to relate what I had seen, when the boatman Sebek swam up once

more and told as follows: The Egyptians had caused a leak to be made in

Phanes' boat, and at a short distance from land it had filled and began

to sink. On the boatmen crying for help, the royal bark, which was

following, had come up and taken the supposed Phanes on board, but had

prevented the rowers from leaving their benches. They all went down with

the leaking boat, the daring Sebek alone excepted. Gyges is on board the

royal boat; Phanes has escaped, for that whistle must have been intended

for the soldiers in ambush at the garden-gate. I searched the bushes,

the soldiers were gone, and I could hear the sound of their voices and

weapons on their way back to Sais."

The guests listened with eager attention to this tale. At its close a

mingled feeling of relief and anxiety was felt by all; relief that their

favorite companion had escaped so fearful a danger, anxiety for the

brave young Lydian who had risked his life to save him. They praised his

generosity, congratulated Croesus on possessing such a son, and finally

agreed in the conclusion, that, when the crown-prince discovered the

error into which his emissaries had fallen, he must certainly release

Gyges, and even make him compensation for what he had suffered at their

hands.

The friendship already shown by Amasis, and the fear in which he

evidently stood of the Persian power, were the thoughts which had power

to calm Croesus, who soon left, in order to pass the night at the house

of Theopompus, the Milesian merchant. At parting, Aristomachus said:

"Salute Gyges in my name; tell him I ask his forgiveness, and hope one

day either to enjoy his friendship, or, if that cannot be, to meet him

as a fair foe on the field of battle."

"Who knows what the future may bring?" answered Croesus giving his hand

to the Spartan.

CHAPTER IX.

The sun of a new day had risen over Egypt, but was still low in the

east; the copious dew, which, on the Nile, supplies the place of rain,

lay sparkling like jewels on the leaves and blossoms, and the morning

air, freshened by a north-west wind, invited those to enjoy it who could

not bear the heat of mid-day.

Through the door of the country-house, now so well known to us, two

female figures have just passed; Melitta, the old slave, and Sappho, the

grandchild of Rhodopis.

The latter is not less lovely now, than when we saw her last, asleep.

She moves through the garden with a light quick step, her white morning

robe with its wide sleeves falling in graceful drapery over her lithe

limbs, the thick brown hair straying from beneath the purple kerchief

over her head, and a merry, roguish smile lurking round her rosy mouth

and in the dimples of her cheeks and chin.

She stooped to pick a rose, dashed the dew from it into the face of her

old nurse, laughing at her naughty trick till the clear bell-like tones

rang through the garden; fixed the flower in her dress and began to sing

in a wonderfully rich and sweet voice--

Cupid once upon a bed

Of roses laid his weary head;

Luckless urchin! not to see

Within the leaves a slumbering bee.

The bee awak'd--with anger wild

The bee awak'd, and stung the child.

Loud and piteous are his cries;

To Venus quick he runs, he flies;

"Oh mother! I am wounded through--

"I die with pain--in sooth I do!

"Stung by some little angry thing.

"Some serpent on a tiny wing,

"A bee it was--for once, I know,

"I heard a rustic call it so."

"Isn't that a very pretty song?" asked the laughing girl. "How stupid of

little Eros to mistake a bee for a winged snake! Grandmother says that

the great poet Anacreon wrote another verse to this song, but she will

not teach it me. Tell me, Melitta, what can there be in that verse?

There, you are smiling; dear, darling Melitta, do sing me that one

verse. Perhaps though, you don't know it yourself? No? then certainly

you can't teach it me."

"That is a new song," answered the old woman, evading her darling's

question, "I only know the songs of the good old times. But hark! did

not you hear a knock at the gate?"

[The last lines which contain the point of this song are:

Thus he spoke, and she, the while,

Heard him with a soothing smile;

Then said, "My infant, if so much

"Thou feel the little wild bee's touch,

"How must the heart, ah! Cupid be,

"The hapless heart that's stung by thee?"

--Translation from one of Anacreon's songs]

"Yes, of course I did, and I think the sound of horses' hoofs too.

Go and see who seeks admission so early. Perhaps, after all, our kind

Phanes did not go away yesterday, and has come to bid us farewell once

more."

"Phanes is gone," said Melitta, becoming serious, "and Rhodopis has

ordered me to send you in when visitors arrive. Go child, that I may

open the gate. There, they have knocked again."

Sappho pretended to run in, but instead of obeying her nurse's orders,

stopped and hid herself behind a rose-bush, hoping to catch sight of

these early guests. In the fear of needlessly distressing her, she had

not been told of the events of the previous evening, and at this

early hour could only expect to see some very intimate friend of her

grandmother's.

Melitta opened the gate and admitted a youth splendidly apparelled, and

with fair curling hair.

It was Bartja, and Sappho was so lost in wonder at his beauty, and the

Persian dress, to her so strange, that she remained motionless in her

hiding-place, her eyes fixed on his face. Just so she had pictured to

herself Apollo with the beautiful locks, guiding the sun-chariot.

As Melitta and the stranger came nearer she thrust her little head

through the roses to hear what the handsome youth was saying so kindly

in his broken Greek.

She heard him ask hurriedly after Croesus and his son; and then, from

Melitta's answer, she gathered all that had passed the evening before,

trembled for Phanes, felt so thankful to the generous Gyges, and again

wondered who this youth in royal apparel could possibly be. Rhodopis had

told her about Cyrus's heroic deeds, the fall of Croesus and the power

and wealth of the Persians, but still she had always fancied them

a wild, uncultivated people. Now, however, her interest in Persia

increased with every look at the handsome Bartja. At last Melitta went

in to wake her grandmother and announce the guest, and Sappho tried

to follow her, but Eros, the foolish boy whose ignorance she had been

mocking a moment before, had other intentions. Her dress caught in the

thorns, and before she could disengage it, the beautiful Bartja was

standing before her, helping her to get free from the treacherous bush.

Sappho could not speak a word even of thanks; she blushed deeply, and

stood smiling and ashamed, with downcast eyes.

Bartja, too, generally so full of fun and spirit, looked down at her

without speaking, the color mounting to his cheeks.

The silence, however, did not last long, for Sappho, recovering from her

fright, burst into a laugh of childish delight at the silent stranger

and the odd scene, and fled towards the house like a timid fawn.

In a moment Bartja was himself again; in two strides he reached

the young girl, quick as thought seized her hand and held it fast,

notwithstanding all her struggles.

"Let me go!" she cried half in earnest and half laughing, raising her

dark eyes appealingly to him.

"Why should I?" he answered. "I took you from the rose-bush and shall

hold you fast until you give me your sister there, the other rose, from

your bosom, to take home with me as a keepsake."

"Please let me go," repeated Sappho, "I will promise nothing unless you

let my hand go."

"But if I do, you will not run away again?"

"Certainly not."

"Well, then, I will give you your liberty, but now you must give me your

rose."

"There are plenty on the bush yonder, and more beautiful ones; choose

whichever you like. Why do you want just this one?"

"To keep it carefully in remembrance of the most beautiful maiden I ever

saw."

"Then I shall certainly not give it to you; for those are not my real

friends who tell me I am beautiful, only those who tell me I am good."

"Where did you learn that?"

"From my grandmother Rhodopis."

"Very well, then I will tell you you are better than any other maiden in

the whole world."

"How can you say such things, when you don't know me at all? Oh,

sometimes I am very naughty and disobedient. If I were really good I

should be indoors now instead of talking to you here. My grandmother

has forbidden me ever to stay in the garden when visitors are here,

and indeed I don't care for all those strange men who always talk about

things I cannot understand."

"Then perhaps you would like me to go away too?"

"Oh no, I can understand you quite well; though you cannot speak half so

beautifully as our poor Phanes for example, who was obliged to escape

so miserably yesterday evening, as I heard Melitta saying just this

minute."

"Did you love Phanes?"

"Love him? Oh yes,--I was very fond of him. When I was little he always

brought me balls, dolls ninepins from Memphis and Sais; and now that I

am older he teaches me beautiful new songs."

[Jointed dolls for children. Wilkinson II. 427. Note 149. In the

Leyden Museum one of these jointed toys is to be seen, in very good

preservation.]

"As a parting gift he brought me a tiny Sicilian lapdog, which I am

going to call Argos, because he is so white and swiftfooted. But in a

few days we are to have another present from the good Phanes, for....

There, now you can see what I am; I was just going to let out a great

secret. My grandmother has strictly forbidden me to tell any one what

dear little visitors we are expecting; but I feel as if I had known you

a long time already, and you have such kind eyes that I could tell you

everything. You see, when I am very happy, I have no one in the whole

world to talk to about it, except old Melitta and my grandmother, and, I

don't know how it is, that, though they love me so much, they sometimes

cannot understand how trifles can make me so happy."

"That is because they are old, and have forgotten what made them happy

in their youth. But have you no companions of your own age that you are

fond of?"

"Not one. Of course there are many other young girls beside me in

Naukratis, but my grandmother says I am not to seek their acquaintance,

and if they will not come to us I am not to go to them."

"Poor child! if you were in Persia, I could soon find you a friend. I

have a sister called Atossa, who is young and good, like you."

"Oh, what a pity that she did not come here with you!--But now you must

tell me your name."

"My name is Bartja."

"Bartja! that is a strange name! Bartja-Bartja. Do you know, I like it.

How was the son of Croesus called, who saved our Phanes so generously?"

"Gyges. Darius, Zopyrus and he are my best friends. We have sworn never

to part, and to give up our lives for one another, and that is why I

came to-day, so early and quite in secret, to help my friend Gyges, in

case he should need me."

"Then you rode here for nothing."

"No, by Mithras, that indeed I did not, for this ride brought me to you.

But now you must tell me your name."

"I am called Sappho."

"That is a pretty name, and Gyges sings me sometimes beautiful songs by

a poetess called Sappho. Are you related to her?"

"Of course. She was the sister of my grandfather Charaxus, and is called

the tenth muse or the Lesbian swan. I suppose then, your friend Gyges

speaks Greek better than you do?"

"Yes, he learnt Greek and Lydian together as a little child, and speaks

them both equally well. He can speak Persian too, perfectly; and what is

more, he knows and practises all the Persian virtues."

"Which are the highest virtues then according to you Persians?"

"Truth is the first of all; courage the second, and the third is

obedience; these three, joined with veneration for the gods, have made

us Persians great."

"But I thought you worshipped no gods?"

"Foolish child! who could live without a god, without a higher ruler?

True, they do not dwell in houses and pictures like the gods of the

Egyptians, for the whole creation is their dwelling. The Divinity, who

must be in every place, and must see and hear everything, cannot be

confined within walls."

"Where do you pray then and offer sacrifice, if you have no temples?"

"On the grandest of all altars, nature herself; our favorite altar is

the summit of a mountain. There we are nearest to our own god, Mithras,

the mighty sun, and to Auramazda, the pure creative light; for there the

light lingers latest and returns earliest."

[From Herodotus (I. 131 and 132.), and from many other sources, we

see clearly that at the time of the Achaemenidae the Persians had

neither temples nor images of their gods. Auramazda and

Angramainjus, the principles of good and evil, were invisible

existences filling all creation with their countless train of good

and evil spirits. Eternity created fire and water. From these

Ormusd (Auramazda), the good spirit, took his origin. He was

brilliant as the light, pure and good. After having, in the course

of 12000 years, created heaven, paradise and the stars, he became

aware of the existence of an evil spirit, Ahriman (Angramainjus),

black, unclean, malicious and emitting an evil odor. Ormusd

determined on his destruction, and a fierce strife began, in which

Ormusd was the victor, and the evil spirit lay 3000 years

unconscious from the effects of terror. During this interval Ormusd

created the sky, the waters, the earth, all useful plants, trees and

herbs, the ox and the first pair of human beings in one year.

Ahriman, after this, broke loose, and was overcome but not slain.

As, after death, the four elements of which all things are composed,

Earth, Air, Fire and Water, become reunited with their primitive

elements; and as, at the resurrection-day, everything that has been

severed combines once more, and nothing returns into oblivion, all

is reunited to its primitive elements, Ahriman could only have been

slain if his impurity could have been transmuted into purity, his

darkness into light. And so evil continued to exist, and to produce

impurity and evil wherever and whenever the good spirit created the

pure and good. This strife must continue until the last day; but

then Ahriman, too, will become pure and holy; the Diws or Daewa

(evil spirits) will have absorbed his evil, and themselves have

ceased to exist. For the evil spirits which dwell in every human

being, and are emanations from Ahriman, will be destroyed in the

punishment inflicted on men after death. From Vuller's Ulmai Islam

and the Zend-Avesta.]

"Light alone is pure and good; darkness is unclean and evil. Yes,

maiden, believe me, God is nearest to us on the mountains; they are his

favorite resting-place. Have you never stood on the wooded summit of a

high mountain, and felt, amid the solemn silence of nature, the still

and soft, but awful breath of Divinity hovering around you? Have you

prostrated yourself in the green forest, by a pure spring, or beneath

the open sky, and listened for the voice of God speaking from among the

leaves and waters? Have you beheld the flame leaping up to its parent

the sun, and bearing with it, in the rising column of smoke, our prayers

to the radiant Creator? You listen now in wonder, but I tell you, you

would kneel and worship too with me, could I but take you to one of our

mountain-altars."

"Oh! if I only could go there with you! if I might only once look down

from some high mountain over all the woods and meadows, rivers and

valleys. I think, up there, where nothing could be hidden from my

eyes, I should feel like an all-seeing Divinity myself. But hark, my

grandmother is calling. I must go."

"Oh, do not leave me yet!"

"Is not obedience one of the Persian virtues?"

"But my rose?"

"Here it is."

"Shall you remember me?"

"Why should I not?"

"Sweet maiden, forgive me if I ask one more favor."

"Yes, but ask it quickly, for my grandmother has just called again."

"Take my diamond star as a remembrance of this hour."

"No, I dare not."

"Oh, do, do take it. My father gave it me as a reward, the first time

that I killed a bear with my own hand, and it has been my dearest

treasure till to-day, but now you shall have it, for you are dearer to

me than anything else in the world."

Saying this, he took the chain and star from his breast, and tried to

hang it round Sappho's neck. She resisted, but Bartja threw his arms

round her, kissed her forehead, called her his only love, and looking

down deep into the eyes of the trembling child, placed it round her neck

by gentle force.

Rhodopis called a third time. Sappho broke from the young prince's

embrace, and was running away, but turned once more at his earnest

entreaty and the question, "When may I see you again?" and answered

softly, "To-morrow morning at this rose-bush."

"Which held you fast to be my friend."

Sappho sped towards the house. Rhodopis received Bartja, and

communicated to him all she knew of his friend's fate, after which the

young Persian departed for Sais.

When Rhodopis visited her grandchild's bed that evening, she did not

find her sleeping peacefully as usual; her lips moved, and she sighed

deeply, as if disturbed by vexing dreams.

On his way back, Bartja met Darius and Zopyrus, who had followed at once

on hearing of their friend's secret departure. They little guessed that

instead of encountering an enemy, Bartja had met his first love. Croesus

reached Sais a short time before the three friends. He went at once to

the king and informed him without reserve of the events of the preceding

evening. Amasis pretended much surprise at his son's conduct, assured

his friend that Gyges should be released at once, and indulged in some

ironical jokes at the discomfiture of Psamtik's attempt to revenge

himself.

Croesus had no sooner quitted the king than the crown-prince was

announced.

CHAPTER X.

Amasis received his son with a burst of laughter, and without noticing

Psamtik's pale and troubled countenance, shouted: "Did not I tell thee,

that a simple Egyptian would find it no easy task to catch such a Greek

fox? I would have given ten cities to have been by, when thy captive

proved to be the stammering Lydian instead of the voluble Athenian."

Psamtik grew paler and paler, and trembling with rage, answered in a

suppressed voice: "Is it well, my father, thus to rejoice at an affront

offered to thy son? I swear, by the eternal gods, that but for Cambyses'

sake that shameless Lydian had not seen the light of another day. But

what is it to thee, that thy son becomes a laughing-stock to these

beggarly Greeks!"

"Abuse not those who have outwitted thee."

"Outwitted! my plan was so subtly laid, that...

"The finer the web, the sooner broken."

"That that intriguing Greek could not possibly have escaped, if, in

violation of all established precedents; the envoy of a foreign power

had not taken it upon himself to rescue a man whom we had condemned."

"There thou art in error, my son. We are not speaking of the execution

of a judicial sentence, but of the success or failure of an attempt at

personal revenge."

"The agents employed were, however, commissioned by the king, and

therefore the smallest satisfaction that I can demand of thee, is to

solicit from Cambyses the punishment of him who has interfered in the

execution of the royal decrees. In Persia, where men bow to the king's

will as to the will of a god, this crime will be seen in all its

heinousness. The punishment of Gyges is a debt which Cambyses owes us."

"But I have no intention of demanding the payment of this debt,"

answered Amasis. "On the contrary, I am thankful that Phanes has

escaped. Gyges has saved my soul from the guilt of shedding innocent

blood, and thine from the reproach of having revenged thyself meanly on

a man, to whom thy father is indebted."

"Wilt thou then conceal the whole affair from Cambyses?"

"No, I shall mention it jestingly in a letter, as my manner is, and at

the same time caution him against Phanes. I shall tell him that he has

barely escaped my vengeance, and will therefore certainly endeavor to

stir up the power of Persia against Egypt; and shall entreat my future

son-in-law to close his ears to this false accuser. Croesus and Gyges

can help us by their friendship more than Phanes can injure by his

hatred."

"Is this then thy final resolve? Can I expect no satisfaction?"

"None. I abide by what I have said."

"Then tremble, not alone before Phanes, but before another--before one

who holds thee in his power, and who himself is in ours."

"Thou thinkest to alarm me; thou wouldst rend the bond formed only

yesterday? Psamtik, Psamtik, I counsel thee to remember, that thou

standest before thy father and thy king."

"And thou, forget not that I am thy son! If thou compell'st me to forget

that the gods appointed thee to be my father--if I can hope for no help

from thee, then I will resort to my own weapons."

"I am curious to learn what these may be."

"And I need not conceal them. Know then that the oculist Nebenchari is

in our power."

Amasis turned pale.

"Before thou couldst possibly imagine that Cambyses would sue for the

hand of thy daughter, thou sentest this man to the distant realm of

Persia, in order to rid thyself of one who shared thy knowledge of the

real descent of my so-called, sister Nitetis. He is still there, and

at a hint from the priests will disclose to Cambyses that he has been

deceived, and that thou hast ventured to send him, instead of thine own,

the child of thy dethroned predecessor Hophra. All Nebenchari's papers

are in our possession, the most important being a letter in thine own

hand promising his father, who assisted at Nitetis' birth, a thousand

gold rings, as an inducement to secrecy even from the priests."

"In whose hands are these papers?" asked Amasis in a freezing tone.

"In the hands of the priesthood."

"Who speak by thy mouth?"

"Thou hast said it."

"Repeat then thy requests."

"Entreat Cambyses to punish Gyges, and grant me free powers to pursue

the escaped Phanes as it shall seem good in mine eyes."

"Is that all?"

"Bind thyself by a solemn oath to the priests, that the Greeks shall be

prevented from erecting any more temples to their false gods in Egypt,

and that the building of the temple to Apollo, in Memphis, shall be

discontinued."

"I expected these demands. The priests have discovered a sharp weapon

to wield against me. Well, I am prepared to yield to the wishes of

my enemies, with whom thou hast leagued thyself, but only on two

conditions. First, I insist that the letter, which I confess to have

written to the father of Nebenchari in a moment of inconsideration, be

restored to me. If left in the hands of thy party, it could reduce me

from a king to the contemptible slave of priestly intrigue."

"That wish is reasonable. The letter shall be returned to thee, if.... "

"Not another if! on the contrary, know that I consider thy petition for

the punishment of Gyges so imprudent, that I refuse to grant it. Now

leave me and appear not again before mine eyes until I summon thee!

Yesterday I gained a son, only to lose him to-day. Rise! I demand no

tokens of a love and humility, which thou hast never felt. Go to the

priests when thou needest comfort and counsel, and see if they can

supply a father's place. Tell Neithotep, in whose hands thou art as wax,

that he has found the best means of forcing me to grant demands, which

otherwise I should have refused. Hitherto I have been willing to make

every sacrifice for the sake of upholding Egypt's greatness; but now,

when I see that, to attain their own ends, the priests can strive to

move me by the threat of treachery to their own country, I feel inclined

to regard this privileged caste as a more dangerous enemy to Egypt, than

even the Persians. Beware, beware! This once, having brought danger upon

Egypt through my own fatherly weakness, I give way to the intrigues of

my enemies; but, for the future, I swear by the great goddess Neith,

that men shall see and feel I am king; the entire priesthood shall

be sacrificed rather than the smallest fraction of my royal will!

Silence--depart!"

The prince left, but this time a longer interval was necessary, before

the king could regain even outward cheerfulness sufficient to enable him

to appear before his guests.

Psamtik went at once to the commander of the native troops, ordered

him to banish the Egyptian captain who had failed in executing his

revengeful plans, to the quarries of Thebais, and to send the Ethiopians

back to their native country. He then hurried to the high-priest of

Neith, to inform him how much he had been able to extort from the king.

Neithotep shook his head doubtfully on hearing of Amasis' threats, and

dismissed the prince with a few words of exhortation, a practice he

never omitted.

Psamtik returned home, his heart oppressed and his mind clouded with

a sense of unsatisfied revenge, of a new and unhappy rupture with his

father, a fear of foreign derision, a feeling of his subjection to the

will of the priests, and of a gloomy fate which had hung over his head

since his birth.

His once beautiful wife was dead; and, of five blooming children, only

one daughter remained to him, and a little son, whom he loved tenderly,

and to whom in this sad moment he felt drawn. For the blue eyes and

laughing mouth of his child were the only objects that ever thawed this

man's icy heart, and from these he now hoped for consolation and courage

on his weary road through life.

"Where is my son?" he asked of the first attendant who crossed his path.

"The king has just sent for the Prince Necho and his nurse," answered

the man.

At this moment the high-steward of the prince's household approached,

and with a low obeisance delivered to Psamtik a sealed papyrus letter,

with the words: "From your father, the king."

In angry haste he broke the yellow wax of the seal bearing the king's

name, and read: "I have sent for thy son, that he may not become, like

his father, a blind instrument in the hands of the priesthood, forgetful

of what is due to himself and his country. His education shall be my

care, for the impressions of childhood affect the whole of a man's later

life. Thou canst see him if thou wilt, but I must be acquainted with thy

intention beforehand."

[Signet rings were worn by the Egyptians at a very early period.

Thus, in Genesis 41. 42., Pharaoh puts his ring on Joseph's hand.

In the Berlin Museum and all other collections of Egyptian

antiquities, numbers of these rings are to be found, many of which

are more than 4000 years old.]

Psamtik concealed his indignation from the surrounding attendants with

difficulty. The mere wish of a royal father had, according to Egyptian

custom, as much weight as the strictest command. After reflecting a few

moments, he called for huntsmen, dogs, bows and lances, sprang into a

light chariot and commanded the charioteer to drive him to the western

marshes, where, in pursuing the wild beasts of the desert, he could

forget the weight of his own cares and wreak on innocent creatures his

hitherto baffled vengeance.

Gyges was released immediately after the conversation between his father

and Amasis, and welcomed with acclamations of joy by his companions. The

Pharaoh seemed desirous of atoning for the imprisonment of his friend's

son by doubling his favors, for on the same day Gyges received from

the king a magnificent chariot drawn by two noble brown steeds, and

was begged to take back with him to Persia a curiously-wrought set of

draughts, as a remembrance of Sais. The separate pieces were made

of ebony and ivory, some being curiously inlaid with sentences, in

hieroglyphics of gold and silver.

Amasis laughed heartily with his friends at Gyges' artifice, allowed

the young heroes to mix freely with his family, and behaved towards

them himself as a jovial father towards his merry sons. That the ancient

Egyptian was not quite extinguished in him could only be discerned at

meal-times, when a separate table was allotted to the Persians. The

religion of his ancestors would have pronounced him defiled, had he

eaten at the same table with men of another nation.

[Herodotus II. 41. says that the Egyptians neither kissed, nor ate

out of the same dish with foreigners, nay, indeed, that they refused

to touch meat, in the cutting up of which the knife of a Greek had

been used. Nor were the lesser dynasties of the Delta allowed,

according to the Stela of Pianchi, to cross the threshold of the

Pharaohs because they were unclean and ate fish. In the book of

Genesis, the brethren of Joseph were not allowed to eat bread with

the Egyptians.]

When Amasis, at last, three days after the release of Gyges, declared

that his daughter Nitetis would be prepared to depart for Asia in the

course of two more weeks, all the Persians regretted that their stay in

Egypt was so near its close.

Croesus had enjoyed the society of the Samian poets and sculptors. Gyges

had shared his father's preference for Greek art and artists. Darius,

who had formerly studied astronomy in Babylon, was one evening observing

the heavens, when, to his surprise, he was addressed by the aged

Neithotep and invited to follow him on to the temple-roof. Darius, ever

eager to acquire knowledge, did not wait to be asked twice, and was

to be found there every night in earnest attention to the old priest's

lessons.

On one occasion Psamtik met him thus with his master, and asked the

latter what could have induced him to initiate a Persian in the Egyptian

mysteries.

"I am only teaching him," answered the high-priest, "what is as well

known to every learned Chaldee in Babylon as to ourselves, and am

thereby gaining the friendship of a man, whose stars as far outshine

those of Cambyses as the sun outshines the moon. This Darius, I tell

thee, will be a mighty ruler. I have even seen the beams of his planet

shining over Egypt. The truly wise man extends his gaze into the future,

regards the objects lying on either side of his road, as well as the

road itself. Thou canst not know in which of the many houses by which

thou passest daily, a future benefactor may not have been reared for

thee. Leave nought unnoticed that lies in thy path, but above all direct

thy gaze upward to the stars. As the faithful dog lies in wait night

after night for thieves, so have I watched these pilgrims of the heavens

fifty years long--these foretellers of the fates of men, burning in

ethereal space, and announcing, not only the return of summer and

winter, but the arrival of good and bad fortune, honor and disgrace.

These are the unerring guides, who have pointed out to me in Darius a

plant, that will one day wax into a mighty tree."

To Bartja, Darius' nightly studies were especially welcome; they

necessitated more sleep in the morning, and so rendered Bartja's stolen

early rides to Naukratis, (on which Zopyrus, to whom he had confided

his secret, accompanied him), easier of accomplishment. During the

interviews with Sappho, Zopyrus and the attendants used all their

endeavors to kill a few snipes, jackals or jerboas. They could then,

on their return, maintain to their Mentor Croesus, that they had been

pursuing fieldsports, the favorite occupation of the Persian nobility.

The change which the power of a first love had wrought in the innermost

character of Bartja, passed unnoticed by all but Tachot, the daughter

of Amasis. From the first day on which they had spoken together she had

loved him, and her quick feelings told her at once that something had

happened to estrange him from herself. Formerly his behavior had been

that of a brother, and he had sought her companionship; but now he

carefully avoided every approach to intimacy, for he had guessed her

secret and felt as if even a kind look would have been an offence

against his loyalty to Sappho.

In her distress at this change Tachot confided her sorrows to Nitetis.

The latter bade her take courage, and the two girls built many a castle

in the air, picturing to themselves the happiness of being always

together at one court, and married to two royal brothers. But as the

days went by, the visits of the handsome prince became more and more

rare, and when he did come, his behavior to Tachot was cold and distant.

Yet the poor girl could not but confess that Bartja had grown handsomer

and more manly during his stay in Egypt. An expression of proud and yet

gentle consciousness lay beaming in his large eyes, and a strange dreamy

air of rest often took the place of his former gay spirits. His cheeks

had lost their brilliant color, but that added to his beauty, while it

lessened hers, who, like him, became paler from day to day.

Melitta, the old slave, had taken the lovers under her protection. She

had surprised them one morning, but the prince had given her such rich

presents, and her darling had begged, flattered and coaxed so sweetly,

that at last Melitta promised to keep their secret, and later, yielding

to that natural impulse which moves all old women to favor lovers,

had even given them every assistance in her power. She already saw

her "sweet child" mistress of a hemisphere, often addressed her as "my

Princess" and "my Queen" when none were by to hear, and in many a weak

moment imagined a brilliant future for herself in some high office at

the Persian court.

CHAPTER XI.

Three days before the time fixed for the departure of Nitetis, Rhodopis

had invited a large number of guests to her house at Naukratis, amongst

whom Croesus and Gyges were included.

The two lovers had agreed to meet in the garden, protected by the

darkness and the old slave, while the guests were occupied at the

banquet. Melitta, therefore, having convinced herself that the guests

were thoroughly absorbed in conversation, opened the garden-gate,

admitted the prince, brought Sappho to him, and then retired, promising

to warn them of any intruder by clapping her hands.

"I shall only have you near me three days longer," whispered Sappho. "Do

you know, sometimes it seems to me as if I had only seen you yesterday

for the first time; but generally I feel as if you had belonged to me

for a whole eternity, and I had loved you all my life."

"To me too it seems as if you had always been mine, for I cannot imagine

how I could ever have existed without you. If only the parting were over

and we were together again!"

"Oh, believe me, that will pass more quickly than you fancy. Of course

it will seem long to wait--very long; but when it is over, and we are

together again, I think it will seem as if we had never been parted. So

it has been with me every day. How I have longed for the morning to come

and bring you with it! but when it came and you were sitting by my side,

I felt as if I had had you all the time and your hand had never left my

head."

"And yet a strange feeling of fear comes over me, when I think of our

parting hour."

"I do not fear it so very much. I know my heart will bleed when you say

farewell, but I am sure you will come back and will not have forgotten

me. Melitta wanted to enquire of the Oracle whether you would remain

faithful; and to question an old woman who has just come from Phrygia

and can conjure by night from drawn cords, with incense, styrax,

moon-shaped cakes, and wild-briar leaves; but I would have none of this,

for my heart knows better than the Pythia, the cords, or the smoke of

sacrifice, that you will be true to me, and love me always."

"And your heart speaks the truth."

"But I have sometimes been afraid; and have blown into a poppy-leaf, and

struck it, as the young girls here do. If it broke with a loud crack

I was very happy, and cried, 'Ah! he will not forget!' but if the leaf

tore without a sound I felt sad. I dare say I did this a hundred times,

but generally the leaf gave the wished-for sound, and I had much oftener

reason to be joyful than sad."

"May it be ever thus!"

"It must be! but dearest, do not speak so loudly; I see Knakias going

down to the Nile for water and he will hear us."

"Well, I will speak low. There, I will stroke back your silky hair and

whisper in your ear 'I love you.' Could you understand?"

"My grandmother says that it is easy to understand what we like to hear;

but if you had just whispered, 'I hate you,' your eyes would have told

me with a thousand glad voices that you loved me. Silent eyes are much

more eloquent than all the tongues in the world."

"If I could only speak the beautiful Greek language as you do, I

would.."

"Oh, I am so glad you cannot, for if you could tell me all you feel, I

think you would not look into my eyes so lovingly. Words are nothing.

Listen to the nightingale yonder! She never had the gift of speech and

yet I think I can understand her."

"Will you confide her secret to me? I should like to know what Gulgul,

as we Persians call the nightingale, has to talk about to her mate in

the rose-bush. May you betray her secret?"

"I will whisper it softly. Philomel sings to her mate 'I love thee,' and

he answers, (don't you hear him?), 'Itys, ito, itys.'"

"And what does that mean, 'Ito, ito?'"

"I accept it."

"And Itys?"

"Oh, that must be explained, to be rightly understood. Itys is a circle;

and a circle, I was always taught, is the symbol of eternity, having

neither beginning nor end; so the nightingale sings, 'I accept it for

eternity.'"

"And if I say to you, 'I love thee?'"

"Then I shall answer gladly, like the sweet nightingale, 'I accept it

for to-day, to-morrow, for all eternity!'"

"What a wonderful night it is! everything so still and silent; I do not

even hear the nightingale now; she is sitting in the acacia-tree among

the bunches of sweet blossoms. I can see the tops of the palm-trees

in the Nile, and the moon's reflection between them, glistening like a

white swan."

"Yes, her rays are over every living thing like silver fetters, and the

whole world lies motionless beneath them like a captive woman. Happy as

I feel now, yet I could not even laugh, and still less speak in a loud

voice."

"Then whisper, or sing!"

"Yes, that is the best. Give me a lyre. Thank you. Now I will lean my

head on your breast, and sing you a little, quiet, peaceful song. It was

written by Alkman, the Lydian, who lived in Sparta, in praise of

night and her stillness. You must listen though, for this low, sweet

slumber-song must only leave the lips like a gentle wind. Do not kiss me

any more, please, till I have finished; then I will ask you to thank me

with a kiss:

"Now o'er the drowsy earth still night prevails,

Calm sleep the mountain tops and shady vales,

The rugged cliffs and hollow glens;

The wild beasts slumber in their dens;

The cattle on the bill. Deep in the sea

The countless finny race and monster brood

Tranquil repose. Even the busy bee

Forgets her daily toil. The silent wood

No more with noisy hum of insect rings;

And all the feathered tribe, by gentle sleep subdued,

Roost in the glade and hang their drooping wings."

--Translation by Colonel Mure.

"Now, dearest, where is my kiss?"

"I had forgotten it in listening, just as before I forgot to listen in

kissing."

"You are too bad. But tell me, is not my song lovely?"

"Yes, beautiful, like everything else you sing."

"And the Greek poets write?"

"Yes, there you are right too, I admit."

"Are there no poets in Persia?"

"How can you ask such a question? How could a nation, who despised song,

pretend to any nobility of feeling?"

"But you have some very bad customs."

"Well?"

"You take so many wives."

"My Sappho..."

"Do not misunderstand me. I love you so much, that I have no other

wish than to see you happy and be allowed to be always with you. If,

by taking me for your only wife, you would outrage the laws of your

country, if you would thereby expose yourself to contempt, or even

blame, (for who could dare to despise my Bartja!) then take other wives;

but let me have you, for myself alone, at least two, or perhaps even

three years. Will you promise this, Bartja?"

"I will."

"And then, when my time has passed, and you must yield to the customs

of your country (for it will not be love that leads you to bring home

a second wife), then let me be the first among your slaves. Oh! I have

pictured that so delightfully to myself. When you go to war I shall set

the tiara on your head, gird on the sword, and place the lance in your

hand; and when you return a conqueror, I shall be the first to crown you

with the wreath of victory. When you ride out to the chase, mine will be

the duty of buckling on your spurs, and when you go to the banquet, of

adorning and anointing you, winding the garlands of poplar and roses and

twining them around your forehead and shoulders. If wounded, I will be

your nurse; will never stir from your side if you are ill, and when I

see you happy will retire, and feast my eyes from afar on your glory and

happiness. Then perchance you will call me to your side, and your kiss

will say, 'I am content with my Sappho, I love her still.'"

"O Sappho, wert thou only my wife now!--to-day! The man who possesses

such a treasure as I have in thee, will guard it carefully, but

never care to seek for others which, by its side, can only show their

miserable poverty. He who has once loved thee, can never love another: I

know it is the custom in my country to have many wives, but this is

only allowed; there is no law to enjoin it. My father had, it is true,

a hundred female slaves, but only one real, true wife, our mother

Kassandane."

"And I will be your Kassandane."

"No, my Sappho, for what you will be to me, no woman ever yet was to her

husband."

"When shall you come to fetch me?"

"As soon as I can, and am permitted to do so."

"Then I ought to be able to wait patiently."

"And shall I ever hear from you?"

"Oh, I shall write long, long letters, and charge every wind with loving

messages for you."

"Yes, do so, my darling; and as to the letters, give them to the

messenger who will bring Nitetis tidings from Egypt from time to time."

"Where shall I find him?"

"I will see that a man is stationed at Naukratis, to take charge of

everything you send to him. All this I will settle with Melitta."

"Yes, we can trust her, she is prudent and faithful; but I have another

friend, who is dearer to me than any one else excepting you, and who

loves me too better than any one else does, but you--"

"You mean your grandmother Rhodopis."

"Yes, my faithful guardian and teacher."

"Ah, she is a noble woman. Croesus considers her the most excellent

among women, and he has studied mankind as the physicians do plants and

herbs. He knows that rank poison lies hidden in some, in others healing

cordials, and often says that Rhodopis is like a rose which, while

fading away herself, and dropping leaf after leaf, continues to shed

perfume and quickening balsam for the sick and weak, and awaits in

patience the wind which at last shall waft her from us."

"The gods grant that she may be with us for a long time yet! Dearest,

will you grant me one great favor?"

"It is granted before I hear it."

"When you take me home, do not leave Rhodopis here. She must come with

us. She is so kind and loves me so fervently, that what makes me happy

will make her so too, and whatever is dear to me, will seem to her

worthy of being loved."

"She shall be the first among our guests."

"Now I am quite happy and satisfied, for I am necessary to my

grandmother; she could not live without her child. I laugh her cares and

sorrows away, and when she is singing to me, or teaching me how to guide

the style, or strike the lute, a clearer light beams from her brow,

the furrows ploughed by grief disappear, her gentle eyes laugh, and she

seems to forget the evil past in the happy present."

"Before we part, I will ask her whether she will follow us home."

"Oh, how glad that makes me! and do you know, the first days of our

absence from each other do not seem so very dreadful to me. Now you are

to be my husband, I may surely tell you everything that pains or pleases

me, even when I dare not tell any one else, and so you must know, that,

when you leave, we expect two little visitors; they are the children

of the kind Phanes, whom your friend Gyges saved so nobly. I mean to be

like a mother to the little creatures, and when they have been good I

shall sing them a story of a prince, a brave hero, who took a simple

maiden to be his wife; and when I describe the prince I shall have you

in my mind, and though my little listeners will not guess it, I shall

be describing you from head to foot. My prince shall be tall like you,

shall have your golden curls and blue eyes, and your rich, royal dress

shall adorn his noble figure. Your generous heart, your love of truth,

and your beautiful reverence for the gods, your courage and heroism,

in short, every thing that I love and honor in you, I shall give to the

hero of my tale. How the children will listen! and when they cry, 'Oh,

how we love the prince, how good and beautiful he must be! if we could

only see him? then I shall press them close to my heart and kiss them as

I kiss you now, and so they will have gained their wish, for as you are

enthroned in my heart, you must be living within me and therefore near

to them, and when they embrace me they will embrace you too."

"And I shall go to my little sister Atossa and tell her all I have

seen on my journey, and when I speak of the Greeks, their grace, their

glorious works of art, and their beautiful women, I shall describe

the golden Aphrodite in your lovely likeness. I shall tell her of your

virtue, your beauty and modesty, of your singing, which is so sweet that

even the nightingale is silent in order to listen to it, of your love

and tenderness. But all this I shall tell her belongs to the divine

Cypris, and when she cries, 'O Aphrodite, could I but see thee!' I too

shall kiss my sister."

"Hark, what was that? Melitta surely clapped her hands. Farewell, we

must not stay! but we shall soon see each other again."

"One more kiss!"

"Farewell!"

Melitta had fallen asleep at her post, overcome by age and weariness.

Her dreams were suddenly disturbed by a loud noise, and she clapped her

hands directly to warn the lovers and call Sappho, as she perceived by

the stars that the dawn was not far off.

As the two approached the house, they discovered that the noise

which had awakened the old slave, proceeded from the guests, who were

preparing for departure.

Urging her to make the greatest haste, Melitta pushed the frightened

girl into the house, took her at once to her sleeping-room, and was

beginning to undress her when Rhodopis entered.

"You are still up, Sappho?" she asked.

"What is this, my child?"

Melitta trembled and had a falsehood ready on her lips, but Sappho,

throwing herself into her grandmother's arms, embraced her tenderly and

told the whole story of her love.

Rhodopis turned pale, ordered Melitta to leave the chamber, and, placing

herself in front of her grandchild, laid both hands on her shoulders

and said earnestly, "Look into my eyes, Sappho. Canst thou look at me as

happily and as innocently, as thou couldst before this Persian came to

us?"

The girl raised her eyes at once with a joyful smile; then Rhodopis

clasped her to her bosom, kissed her and continued: "Since thou wert

a little child my constant effort has been to train thee to a noble

maidenhood and guard thee from the approach of love. I had intended, in

accordance with the customs of our country, to choose a fitting husband

for thee shortly myself, to whose care I should have committed thee; but

the gods willed differently.

[The Spartans married for love, but the Athenians were accustomed to

negotiate their marriages with the parents of the bride alone.]

Eros mocks all human efforts to resist or confine him; warm AEolian

blood runs in thy veins and demands love; the passionate heart of thy

Lesbian forefathers beats in thy breast.

[Charaxus, the grandfather of our heroine, and brother of the

poetess Sappho, was, as a Lesbian, an AEolian Greek.]

What has happened cannot now be undone. Treasure these happy hours of a

first, pure love; hold them fast in the chambers of memory, for to

every human being there must come, sooner or later, a present so sad and

desolate, that the beautiful past is all he has to live upon. Remember

this handsome prince in silence, bid him farewell when he departs to his

native country, but beware of hoping to see him again. The Persians are

fickle and inconstant, lovers of everything new and foreign. The prince

has been fascinated by thy sweetness and grace. He loves thee ardently

now, but remember, he is young and handsome, courted by every one, and a

Persian. Give him up that he may not abandon thee!"

"But how can I, grandmother? I have sworn to be faithful to him for

ever."

"Oh, children! Ye play with eternity as if it were but a passing moment!

I could blame thee for thus plighting thy troth, but I rejoice that thou

regardest the oath as binding. I detest the blasphemous proverb: 'Zeus

pays no heed to lovers' oaths.' Why should an oath touching the best and

holiest feelings of humanity be regarded by the Deity, as inferior in

importance to asseverations respecting the trifling questions of mine

and thine? Keep thy promise then,--hold fast thy love, but prepare to

renounce thy lover."

"Never, grandmother! could I ever have loved Bartja, if I had not

trusted him? Just because he is a Persian and holds truth to be the

highest virtue, I may venture to hope that he will remember his oath,

and, notwithstanding those evil customs of the Asiatics, will take and

keep me as his only wife."

"But if he should forget, thy youth will be passed in mourning, and with

an embittered heart..."

"O, dear kind grandmother, pray do not speak of such dreadful things. If

you knew him as well as I do, you would rejoice with me, and would tell

me I was right to believe that the Nile may dry up and the Pyramids

crumble into ruins, before my Bartja can ever deceive me!"

The girl spoke these words with such a joyful, perfect confidence, and

her eyes, though filled with tears, were so brilliant with happiness and

warmth of feeling, that Rhodopis' face grew cheerful too.

Sappho threw her arms again round her grandmother, told her every word

that Bartja had said to her, and ended the long account by exclaiming:

"Oh, grandmother, I am so happy, so very happy, and if you will

come with us to Persia, I shall have nothing more to wish from the

Immortals."

"That will not last long," said Rhodopis. "The gods cast envious glances

at the happiness of mortals; they measure our portion of evil with

lavish hands, and give us but a scanty allowance of good. But now go to

bed, my child, and let us pray together that all may end happily. I met

thee this morning as a child, I part from thee to-night a woman; and,

when thou art a wife, may thy kiss be as joyful as the one thou givest

me now. To-morrow I will talk the matter over with Croesus. He must

decide whether I dare allow thee to await the return of the Persian

prince, or whether I must entreat thee to forget him and become

the domestic wife of a Greek husband. Sleep well, my darling, thy

grandmother will wake and watch for thee."

Sappho's happy fancies soon cradled her to sleep; but Rhodopis remained

awake watching the day dawn, and the sun rise, her mind occupied with

thoughts which brought smiles and frowns across her countenance in rapid

succession.

The next morning she sent to Croesus, begging him to grant her an hour's

interview, acquainted him with every particular she had heard from

Sappho, and concluded her tale with these words: "I know not what

demands may be made on the consort of a Persian king, but I can truly

say that I believe Sappho to be worthy of the first monarch of the

world. Her father was free and of noble birth, and I have heard that,

by Persian law, the descent of a child is determined by the rank of the

father only. In Egypt, too, the descendants of a female slave enjoy the

same rights as those of a princess, if they owe their existence to the

same father."

"I have listened to you in silence," answered Croesus, "and must

confess, that, like yourself, I do not know in this moment whether to be

glad or sorry for this attachment. Cambyses and Kassandane (the king's

and Bartja's mother) wished to see the prince married before we left

Persia, for the king has no children, and should he remain childless,

the only hope for the family of Cyrus rests on Bartja, as the great

founder of the Persian empire left but two sons,--Cambyses, and him

who is now the suitor of your granddaughter. The latter is the hope and

pride of the entire Persian nation, high and low; the darling of the

people; generous, and noble, handsome, virtuous, and worthy of their

love. It is indeed expected that the princes shall marry in their

own family, the Achaemenidae; but the Persians have an unbounded

predilection for everything foreign. Enchanted with the beauty of your

granddaughter, and rendered indulgent by their partiality for Bartja,

they would easily forgive this breach of an ancient custom. Indeed, if

the king gives his approval, no objection on the part of his subjects

can be entertained. The history of Iran too offers a sufficient number

of examples, in which even slaves became the mothers of kings. The queen

mother, whose position, in the eyes of the people, is nearly as high as

that of the monarch himself, will do nothing to thwart the happiness of

her youngest and favorite son. When she sees that he will not give up

Sappho,--that his smiling face, in which she adores the image of her

great husband Cyrus, becomes clouded, I verily believe she would be

ready to sanction his taking even a Scythian woman to wife, if it could

restore him to cheerfulness. Neither will Cambyses himself refuse his

consent if his mother press the point at a right moment."

"In that case every difficulty is set aside," cried Rhodopis joyfully.

"It is not the marriage itself, but the time that must follow, which

causes me uneasiness," answered Croesus.

"Do you think then that Bartja...?"

"From him I fear nothing. He has a pure heart, and has been so long

proof against love, that now he has once yielded, he will love long and

ardently."

"What then do you fear?"

"You must remember that, though the charming wife of their favorite

will be warmly received by all his friends of his own sex, there are

thousands of idle women in the harems of the Persian nobles, who will

endeavor, by every artifice and intrigue in their power, to injure the

newly-risen star; and whose greatest joy it will be to ruin such an

inexperienced child and make her unhappy."

"You have a very bad opinion of the Persian women."

"They are but women, and will naturally envy her, who has gained the

husband they all desired either for themselves or for their daughters.

In their monotonous life, devoid of occupation, envy easily becomes

hatred, and the gratification of these evil passions is the only

compensation which the poor creatures can obtain for the total absence

of love and loss of freedom. I repeat, the more beautiful Sappho is, the

more malicious they will feel towards her, and, even if Bartja should

love her so fervently as not to take a second wife for two or three

years, she will still have such heavy hours to encounter, that I really

do not know whether I dare congratulate you on her apparently brilliant

future."

"That is quite my own feeling. A simple Greek would be more welcome to

me than this son of a mighty monarch."

In this moment Knakias brought Bartja into the room. He went to Rhodopis

at once, besought her not to refuse him the hand of her granddaughter,

spoke of his ardent love, and assured her that his happiness would be

doubled, if she would consent to accompany them to Persia. Then turning

to Croesus, he seized his hand and entreated forgiveness for having so

long concealed his great happiness from one who had been like a father

to him, at the same time begging him to second his suit with Rhodopis.

The old man listened to the youth's passionate language with a smile,

and said: "Ah, Bartja, how often have I warned thee against love! It is

a scorching fire."

"But its flame is bright and beautiful."

"It causes pain."

"But such pain is sweet."

"It leads the mind astray."

"But it strengthens the heart."

"Oh, this love!" cried Rhodopis. "Inspired by Eros, the boy speaks as if

he had been all his life studying under an Attic orator!"

"And yet," answered Croesus, "these lovers are the most unteachable of

pupils. Convince them as clearly as you will, that their passion is

only another word for poison, fire, folly, death, they still cry, 'Tis

sweet,' and will not be hindered in their course."

As he was speaking Sappho came in. A white festal robe, with wide

sleeves, and borders of purple embroidery, fell in graceful folds round

her delicate figure, and was confined at the waist by a golden girdle.

Her hair was adorned with fresh roses, and on her bosom lay her lover's

first gift, the flashing diamond star.

She came up modestly and gracefully, and made a low obeisance to

the aged Croesus. His eyes rested long on the maidenly and lovely

countenance, and the longer he gazed the kindlier became his gaze. For

a moment he seemed to grow young again in the visions conjured up by

memory, and involuntarily he went up to the young girl, kissed her

affectionately on the forehead, and, taking her by the hand, led her to

Bartja with the words: "Take her, thy wife she must be, if the entire

race of the Achaemenidae were to conspire against us!"

"Have I no voice in the matter?" said Rhodopis, smiling through her

tears.

On hearing these words, Bartja and Sappho each took one of her hands,

and gazed entreatingly into her face. She rose to her full stature, and

like a prophetess exclaimed: "Eros, who brought you to each other, Zeus

and Apollo defend and protect you. I see you now like two fair roses on

one stem, loving and happy in the spring of life. What summer, autumn

and winter may have in store for you, lies hidden with the gods. May

the shades of thy departed parents, Sappho, smile approvingly when these

tidings of their child shall reach them in the nether world."

.................................

Three days later a densely packed crowd was once more surging round the

Sais landing-place. This time they had assembled to bid a last farewell

to their king's daughter, and in this hour the people gave clear tokens

that, in spite of all the efforts of the priestly caste, their hearts

remained loyal to their monarch and his house. For when Amasis and

Ladice embraced Nitetis for the last time with tears--when Tachot, in

presence of all the inhabitants of Sais, following her sister down the

broad flight of steps that led to the river, threw her arms round her

neck once more and burst into sobs--when at last the wind filled the

sails of the royal boat and bore the princess, destined to be the great

king's bride, from their sight, few eyes among that vast crowd remained

dry.

The priests alone looked on at this sad scene with unmoved gravity and

coldness; but when the south wind at last bore away the strangers who

had robbed them of their princess, many a curse and execration followed

from the Egyptians on the shore; Tachot alone stood weeping there and

waving her veil to them. For whom were these tears? for the play-fellow

of her youth, or for the handsome, beloved prince?

Amasis embraced his wife and daughter in the eyes of all his people;

and held up his little grandson, Prince Necho, to their gaze, the

sight eliciting cries of joy on all sides. But Psamtik, the child's own

father, stood by the while, tearless and motionless. The king appeared

not to observe him, until Neithotep approached, and leading him to his

father, joined their hands and called down the blessing of the gods upon

the royal house.

At this the Egyptians fell on their knees with uplifted hands. Amasis

clasped his son to his heart, and when the high-priest had concluded his

prayer, the following colloquy between the latter and Amasis took place

in low tones:

"Let peace be between us for our own and Egypt's sake!"

"Hast thou received Nebenchari's letter?"

"A Samian pirate-vessel is in pursuit of Phanes' trireme."

"Behold the child of thy predecessor Hophra, the rightful heiress of the

Egyptian throne, departing unhindered to a distant land!"

"The works of the Greek temple now building in Memphis shall be

discontinued."

"May Isis grant us peace, and may prosperity and happiness increase in

our land!"

............................

The Greek colonists in Naukratis had prepared a feast to celebrate the

departure of their protector's daughter.

Numerous animals had been slaughtered in sacrifice on the altars of the

Greek divinities, and the Nile-boats were greeted with a loud cry of

"Ailinos" on their arrival in the harbor.

A bridal wreath, composed of a hoop of gold wound round with scented

violets, was presented to Nitetis by a troop of young girls in holiday

dresses, the act of presentation being performed by Sappho, as the most

beautiful among the maidens of Naukratis.

On accepting the gift Nitetis kissed her forehead in token of gratitude.

The triremes were already waiting; she went on board, the rowers took

their oars and began the Keleusma.

[The measure of the Keleusma was generally given by a flute-player,

the Trieraules. AEschylus, Persians 403. Laert. Diog. IV. 22. In

the Frogs of Aristophanes the inhabitants of the marshes are made to

sing the Keleusma, v. 205. The melody, to the measure of which the

Greek boatmen usually timed their strokes.]

Ailinos rang across the water from a thousand voices. Bartja stood

on the deck, and waved a last loving farewell to his betrothed; while

Sappho prayed in silence to Aphrodite Euploia, the protectress of those

who go down to the sea in ships. A tear rolled down her cheek, but

around her lips played a smile of love and hope, though her old slave

Melitta, who accompanied her to carry her parasol, was weeping as if

her heart would break. On seeing, however, a few leaves fall from

her darling's wreath, she forgot her tears for a moment and whispered

softly: "Yes, dear heart, it is easy to see that you are in love; when

the leaves fall from a maiden's wreath, 'tis a sure sign that her heart

has been touched by Eros.

CHAPTER XII.

Seven weeks after Nitetis had quitted her native country, a long train

of equipages and horsemen was to be seen on the king's highway from

the west to Babylon, moving steadily towards that gigantic city, whose

towers might already be descried in the far distance.

[The great road called the "king's road," of which we shall have

more to say, was made by Cyrus and carefully kept up by Darius.]

The principal object in this caravan was a richly-gilded, four-wheeled

carriage, closed in at the sides by curtains, and above by a roof

supported on wooden pillars. In this vehicle, called the Harmamaxa,

resting on rich cushions of gold brocade, sat our Egyptian Princess.

[Harmamaxa--An Asiatic travelling carriage. The first mention of

these is in Xenophon's Anabasis, where we find a queen travelling in

such a vehicle. They were later adopted by the Romans and used for

the same object.]

On either side rode her escort, viz.: the Persian princes and nobles

whom we have already learnt to know during their visit to Egypt, Croesus

and his son.

Behind these, a long train, consisting of fifty vehicles of different

kinds and six hundred beasts of burden, stretched away into

the distance, and the royal carriage was preceded by a troop of

splendidly-mounted Persian cavalry.

The high-road followed the course of the Euphrates, passing through

luxuriant fields of wheat, barley and sesame yielding fruit two, and

sometimes even three, hundred-fold. Slender date-palms covered with

golden fruit were scattered in every direction over the fields, which

were thoroughly irrigated by means of canals and ditches.

It was winter, but the sun shone warm and bright from a cloudless sky.

The mighty river swarmed with craft of all sizes, either transporting

the products of Upper Armenia to the plains of Mesopotamia, or the wares

of Greece and Asia Minor from Thapsakus to Babylon.

[Thapsakus--An important commercial town on the Euphrates, and the

point of observation from which Eratosthenes took his measurements

of the earth.]

Pumps and water-wheels poured refreshing streams over the thirsty land,

and pretty villages ornamented the shores of the river. Indeed every

object gave evidence that our caravan was approaching the metropolis of

a carefully governed and civilized state.

Nitetis and her retinue now halted at a long brick house, roofed with

asphalte, and surrounded by a grove of plane-trees.

[Asphalte--Nearly all authorities, ancient as well as modern, report

that bitumen, which is still plentifully found in the neighborhood

of Babylon, was used by the Babylonians as mortar. See, besides the

accounts of ancient writers, W. Vaux, 'Nineveh and Persepolis'.

Burnt bitumen was used by Assyrians for cement in building.]

Here Croesus was lifted from his horse, and approaching the carriage,

exclaimed: "Here we are at length at the last station! That high tower

which you see on the horizon is the celebrated temple of Bel, next to

the Pyramids, one of the most gigantic works ever constructed by human

hands. Before sunset we shall have reached the brazen gates of Babylon.

And now I would ask you to alight, and let me send your maidens into the

house; for here you must put on Persian apparel, to appear well-pleasing

in the eyes of Cambyses. In a few hours you will stand before your

future husband. But you are pale! Permit your maidens to adorn your

cheeks with a color that shall look like the excitement of joy. A first

impression is often a final one, and this is especially true with regard

to Cambyses. If, which I doubt not, you are pleasing in his eyes at

first, then you have won his love for ever; but if you should displease

him to-day he will never look kindly on you again, for he is rough and

harsh. But take courage, my daughter, and above all, do not forget the

advice I have given you." Nitetis dried her tears as she answered: "How

can I ever thank you, O Croesus, my second father, my protector and

adviser, for all your goodness? Oh, forsake me not in the days to come!

and if the path of my life should lead through grief and care, be near

to help and guide me as you did on the mountain-passes of this long and

dangerous journey. A thousand times I thank thee, O my father!"

And, as she said these words, the young girl threw her arms around the

old man's neck and kissed him tenderly.

On entering the court-yard, a tall stout man, followed by a train of

Asiatic serving-maidens, came forward to meet them. This was Boges, the

chief of the eunuchs, an important official at the Persian court. His

beardless face wore a smile of fulsome sweetness; in his ears hung

costly jewelled pendents; his neck, arms, legs and his effeminately long

garments glittered all over with gold chains and rings, and his crisp,

stiff curls, bound round by a purple fillet, streamed with powerful and

penetrating perfumes.

Making a low and reverential obeisance before Nitetis, and holding, the

while, his fat hands overloaded with rings before his mouth, he thus

addressed her: "Cambyses, lord of the world, hath sent me to thee, O

Queen, that I may refresh thy heart with the dew of his salutations.

He sendeth thee likewise by me, even by me the lowest of his servants,

Persian raiment, that thou, as befitteth the consort of the mightiest

of all rulers, mayest approach the gates of the Achaemenidae in Median

garments. These women whom thou seest are thy handmaidens, and only

await thy bidding to transform thee from an Egyptian jewel into a

Persian pearl."

The master of the caravansary then appeared, bearing, in token of

welcome, a basket of fruits arranged with great taste.

Nitetis returned her thanks to both these men in kind and friendly

words; then entering the house laid aside the dress and ornaments of her

native land, weeping as she did so, allowed the strangers to unloose the

plait of hair which hung down at the left side of her head, and was the

distinctive mark of an Egyptian princess, and to array her in Median

garments.

[In almost all the Egyptian pictures, the daughters and sons of the

Pharaohs are represented with these locks of hair, plaited and

reaching from the forehead to the neck. Rosellini, Mon. stor. II.

123. Lepsius, Denkmaler. The daughter of Rameses II. is drawn

thus, and we have examples of the same in many other pictures.]

In the meantime, a repast had been commanded by the princes

who accompanied her. Eager and agile attendants rushed to the

baggage-waggons, fetching thence, in a few moments, seats, tables, and

golden utensils of all kinds. The cooks vied with them and with each

other, and as if by magic, in a short space of time a richly-adorned

banquet for the hungry guests appeared, at which even the flowers were

not wanting.

During the entire journey our travellers had lived in a similar luxury,

as their beasts of burden carried every imaginable convenience, from

tents of water-proof materials inwrought with gold, down to silver

foot-stools; and in the vehicles which composed their train were

not only bakers, cooks, cup-bearers and carvers, but perfumers,

hair-dressers and weavers of garlands. Beside these conveniences, a

well-fitted up caravansary, or inn, was to be found about every eighteen

miles along the whole route, where disabled horses could be replaced,

the plantations around which afforded a refreshing shelter from the

noonday heat, or their hearths a refuge from the snow and cold on the

mountain-passes.

The kingdom of Persia was indebted for these inns (similar to the

post-stations of modern days) to Cyrus, who had endeavored to connect

the widely-distant provinces of his immense dominions by a system of

well-kept roads, and a regular postal service. At each of these stations

the horseman carrying the letter-bag was relieved by a fresh man on a

fresh steed, to whom the letters were transferred, and who, in his turn,

darted off like the wind, to be again replaced at a similar distance

by another rider. These couriers, called Angari, were considered the

swiftest horsemen in the world.

[Herodotus V. 14. 49-52. Persian milestones are still to be found

among the ruins of the old king's road, which led from Nineveh to

Ecbatana. The Kurds call them keli-Shin (blue pillars).]

Just as the banqueters, amongst whom Boges had taken his seat, were

rising from table, the door opened, and a vision appeared, which

drew prolonged exclamation of surprise from all the Persians present.

Nitetis, clad in the glorious apparel of a Median princess, proud in the

consciousness of her triumphant beauty, and yet blushing like a young

girl at the wondering admiration of her friends, stood before them.

The attendants involuntarily fell on their faces before her, according

to the custom of the Asiatics, and the noble Achaemenidae bowed low and

reverentially; for it seemed as if Nitetis has laid aside all her former

bashfulness and timidity with her simple Egyptian dress, and with the

splendid silken garments of a Persian princess, flashing as they were

with gold and jewels, had clothed herself in the majesty of a queen.

The deep reverence paid by all present seemed agreeable to her, and

thanking her admiring friends by a gracious wave of the hand, she turned

to the chief of the eunuchs and said in a kind tone but mingled with a

touch of pride; "Thou hast performed thy mission well; I am content with

the raiment and the slaves that thou hast provided and shall commend thy

circumspection to the king, my husband. Receive this gold chain in the

meanwhile, as a token of my gratitude."

The eunuch kissed the hem of her garment, and accepted the gift in

silence. This man, hitherto omnipotent in his office, had never before

encountered such pride in any of the women committed to his charge. Up

to the present time all Cambyses' wives had been Asiatics, and, well

aware of the unlimited power of the chief of the eunuchs, had used every

means within their reach to secure his favor by flattery and submission.

Boges now made a second obeisance before Nitetis, of which, however, she

took no notice, and turning to Croesus said: "Neither words nor gifts

could ever suffice to express my gratitude to you, kindest of friends,

for, if my future life at the court of Persia prove, I will not venture

to say a happy, but even a peaceful one, it is to you alone that I

shall owe it. Still, take this ring. It has never left my finger since

I quitted Egypt, and it has a significance far beyond its outward worth.

Pythagoras, the noblest of the Greeks, gave it to my mother, when he

was tarrying in Egypt to learn the wisdom of our priests, and it was her

parting gift to me. The number seven is engraved upon the simple stone.

This indivisible number represents perfect health, both to soul and body

for health is likewise one and indivisible.

[Seven, the "motherless" number, which has no factor below ten.]

The sickness of one member is the sickness of all; one evil thought,

allowed to take up its abode within our heart, destroys the entire

harmony of the soul. When you see this seven therefore, let it recall my

heart's wish that you may ever enjoy undisturbed bodily health, and long

retain that loving gentleness which has made you the most virtuous, and

therefore the healthiest of men. No thanks, my father, for even if I

could restore to Croesus all the treasures that he once possessed, I

should still retrain his debtor. Gyges, to you I give this Lydian lyre;

let its tones recall the giver to your memory. For you, Zopyrus, I

have a golden chain; I have witnessed that you are the most faithful of

friends; and we Egyptians are accustomed to place cords and bands in

the hands of our lovely Hathor, the goddess of love and friendship,

as symbols of her captivating and enchaining attributes. As Darius has

studied the wisdom of Egypt and the signs of the starry heavens, I beg

him to take this circlet of gold, on which a skilful hand has traced the

signs of the Zodiac.

[Diodorus (I. 49.) tells, that in the tomb of Osymandyas (palace of

Rameses II. at Thebes) there lay a circle of gold, one ell thick and

365 ells in circumference, containing a complete astronomical

calendar. The circle of the zodiac from Dendera, which is now in

Paris,--an astronomical ceiling painting, which was believed at the

time of its discovery to be of great age, is not nearly so ancient

as was supposed, dating only from the end of the Ptolemaic dynasty.

Letronne was the first to estimate it correctly. See Lepsius,

Chron. p.63. and Lauth, 'les zodiaques de Dendera'. Munich 1865.]

And lastly, to my dear brother-in-law Bartja I commit the most precious

jewel in my possession--this amulet of blue stone. My sister Tachot hung

it round my neck as I kissed her on the last night before we parted; she

told me it could bring to its wearer the sweet bliss of love. And then,

Bartja, she wept! I do not know of whom she was thinking in that

moment, but I hope I am acting according to her wishes in giving you

her precious jewel. Take it as a gift from Tachot, and sometimes call to

mind our games in the Sais gardens."

Thus far she had been speaking Greek, but now, addressing the attendants

who remained standing in an attitude of deep reverence, she began in

broken Persian: "Accept my thanks also. In Babylon you shall receive a

thousand gold staters." Then turning to Boges, she added: "Let this

sum be distributed among the attendants at latest by the day after

to-morrow. Take me to my carriage, Croesus."

The old king hastened to do her bidding, and as he was leading her

thither she pressed his arm and whispered gently, "Are you pleased with

me, my father?"

"I tell you, girl," the old man answered, "that no one but the king's

mother can ever be your equal at this court, for a true and queenly

pride reigns on your brow, and you have the power of using small means

to effect great ends. Believe me, the smallest gift, chosen and bestowed

as you can choose and bestow, gives more pleasure to a noble mind

than heaps of treasure merely cast down at his feet. The Persians are

accustomed to present and receive costly gifts. They understand already

how to enrich their friends, but you can teach them to impart a joy

with every gift. How beautiful you are to-day! Are your cushions to

your mind, or would you like a higher seat? But what is that? There are

clouds of dust in the direction of the city. Cambyses is surely coming

to meet you! Courage, my daughter. Above all try to meet his gaze and

respond to it. Very few can bear the lightning glance of those eyes,

but, if you can return it freely and fearlessly, you have conquered.

Fear nothing, my child, and may Aphrodite adorn you with her most

glorious beauty! My friends, we must start, I think the king himself is

coming." Nitetis sat erect in her splendid, gilded carriage; her hands

were pressed on her throbbing heart. The clouds of dust came nearer

and nearer, her eye caught the flash of weapons like lightning across

a stormy sky. The clouds parted, she could see single figures for a

moment, but soon lost them as the road wound behind some thickets and

shrubs. Suddenly the troop of horsemen appeared in full gallop only a

hundred paces before her, and distinctly visible.

Her first impression was of a motley mass of steeds and men, glittering

in purple, gold, silver and jewels. It consisted in reality of a troop

of more than two hundred horsemen mounted on pure white Nicaean horses,

whose bridles and saddle-cloths were covered with bells and bosses,

feathers, fringes, and embroidery. Their leader rode a powerful

coal-black charger, which even the strong will and hand of his rider

could not always curb, though in the end his enormous strength proved

him the man to tame even this fiery animal. This rider, beneath whose

weight the powerful steed trembled and panted, wore a vesture of scarlet

and white, thickly embroidered with eagles and falcons in silver.

[Curtius III. 3. Xenoph. Cyrap, VIII. 3. 7. Aeschylus, Persians

835. 836. The king's dress and ornaments were worth 12,000 talents,

or L2,250,000 (estimate of 1880) according to Plutarch, Artaxerxes

24.]

The lower part of his dress was purple, and his boots of yellow leather.

He wore a golden girdle; in this hung a short dagger-like sword,

the hilt and scabbard of which were thickly studded with jewels. The

remaining ornaments of his dress resembled those we have described as

worn by Bartja, and the blue and white fillet of the Achaemenidae was

bound around the tiara, which surmounted a mass of thick curls, black as

ebony. The lower part of his face was concealed by an immense beard. His

features were pale and immovable, but the eyes, (more intensely black,

if possible, than either hair or beard), glowed with a fire that was

rather scorching than warming. A deep, fiery-red scar, given by the

sword of a Massagetan warrior, crossed his high forehead, arched

nose and thin upper lip. His whole demeanor expressed great power and

unbounded pride.

Nitetis' gaze was at once riveted by this man. She had never seen any

one like him before, and he exercised a strange fascination over her.

The expression of indomitable pride, worn by his features, seemed to her

to represent a manly nature which the whole world, but she herself above

all others, was created to serve. She felt afraid, and yet her true

woman's heart longed to lean upon his strength as the vine upon the elm.

She could not be quite sure whether she had thus pictured to herself the

father of all evil, the fearful Seth, or the great god Ammon, the giver

of light.

The deepest pallor and the brightest color flitted by turns across her

lovely face, like the light and shadow when clouds pass swiftly over a

sunny noonday sky. She had quite forgotten the advice of her fatherly

old friend, and yet, when Cambyses brought his unruly, chafing steed to

a stand by the side of her carriage, she gazed breathless into the fiery

eyes of this man and felt at once that he was the king, though no one

had told her so.

The stern face of this ruler of half the known world relaxed, as

Nitetis, moved by an unaccountable impulse, continued to bear his

piercing gaze. At last he waved his hand to her in token of welcome, and

then rode on to her escort, who had alighted from their horses and were

awaiting him, some having cast themselves down in the dust, and others,

after the Persian manner, standing in an attitude of deep reverence,

their hands concealed in the wide sleeves of their robes.

He sprang from his horse, an example which was followed at once by his

entire suite. The attendants, with the speed of thought, spread a rich

purple carpet on the highway, lest the foot of the king should come

in contact with the dust of the earth, and then Cambyses proceeded to

salute his friends and relations by offering them his mouth to kiss.

He shook Croesus by the right hand, commanding him to remount and

accompany him to the carriage, as interpreter between himself and

Nitetis.

In an instant his highest office-bearers were at hand to lift the king

once more on to his horse, and at a single nod from their lord, the

train was again in motion.

Cambyses and Croesus rode by the side of the carriage.

"She is beautiful, and pleases me well," began the king. "Interpret

faithfully all her answers, for I understand only the Persian, Assyrian

and Median tongues."

Nitetis caught and understood these words. A feeling of intense joy

stole into her heart, and before Croesus could answer, she began softly

in broken Persian and blushing deeply: "Blessed be the gods, who have

caused me to find favor in thine eyes. I am not ignorant of the speech

of my lord, for the noble Croesus has instructed me in the Persian

language during our long journey. Forgive, if my sentences be broken and

imperfect; the time was short, and my capacity only that of a poor and

simple maiden."

[Diodorus tells us that Themistocles learnt the Persian language

during the journey to Susa. We are not, therefore, requiring an

impossibility of Nitetis.]

A smile passed over the usually serious mouth of Cambyses. His vanity

was flattered by Nitetis' desire to win his approbation, and, accustomed

as he was to see women grow up in idleness and ignorance, thinking of

nothing but finery and intrigue, her persevering industry seemed to

him both wonderful and praise worthy. So he answered with evident

satisfaction: "I rejoice that we can speak without an interpreter.

Persevere in learning the beautiful language of my forefathers. Croesus,

who sits at my table, shall still remain your instructor."

"Your command confers happiness!" exclaimed the old man. "No more eager

or thankful pupil could be found, than the daughter of Amasis."

"She justifies the ancient report of the wisdom of Egypt," answered the

king, "and I can believe that she will quickly understand and receive

into her soul the religious instructions of our Magi."

Nitetis dropped her earnest gaze. Her fears were being realized. She

would be compelled to serve strange gods.

But her emotion passed unnoticed by Cambyses, who went on speaking:

"My mother Kassandane will tell you the duties expected from my wives.

To-morrow I myself will lead you to her. The words, which you innocently

chanced to hear, I now repeat; you please me well. Do nothing to

alienate my affection. We will try to make our country agreeable,

and, as your friend, I counsel you to treat Boges whom I sent as my

forerunner, in a kind and friendly manner. As head over the house of the

women, you will have to conform to his will in many things."

"Though he be head over the house of the women," answered Nitetis,

"surely your wife is bound to obey no other earthly will than yours.

Your slightest look shall be for me a command; but remember that I am a

king's daughter, that in my native land the weaker and the stronger sex

have equal rights, and that the same pride reigns in my breast, which

I see kindling in your eyes, my lord and king! My obedience to you, my

husband and my ruler, shall be that of a slave, but I can never stoop

to sue for the favor, or obey the orders of a venal servant, the most

unmanly of his kind!"

Cambyses' wonder and satisfaction increased. He had never heard any

woman speak in this way before, except his mother; the clever way in

which Nitetis acknowledged, and laid stress on, his right to command her

every act, was very flattering to his self-love, and her pride found an

echo in his own haughty disposition. He nodded approvingly and answered:

"You have spoken well. A separate dwelling shall be appointed you. I,

and no one else, will prescribe your rules of life and conduct. This day

the pleasant palace on the hanging-gardens shall be prepared for your

reception."

"A thousand, thousand thanks," cried Nitetis. "You little know the

blessing you are bestowing in this permission. Again and again I have

begged your brother Bartja to repeat the story of these gardens, and the

love of the king who raised that verdant and blooming hill, pleased us

better than all the other glories of your vast domains."

"To-morrow," answered the king, "you can enter your new abode. But tell

me now how my messengers pleased you and your countrymen."

"How can you ask? Who could know the noble Croesus without loving him?

Who could fail to admire the beauty of the young heroes, your friends?

They have all become dear to us, but your handsome brother Bartja

especially, won all hearts. The Egyptians have no love for strangers,

and yet the gaping crowd would burst into a murmur of admiration, when

his beautiful face appeared among them."

At these words the king's brow darkened; he struck his horse so sharply

that the creature reared, and then turning it quickly round he gallopped

to the front and soon reached the walls of Babylon.

...........................

Though Nitetis had been brought up among the huge temples and palaces

of Egypt, she was still astonished at the size and grandeur of this

gigantic city.

Its walls seemed impregnable; they measured more than seventy-five

feet--[Fifty ells. The Greek ell is equal to one foot and a half

English.]--in height and their breadth was so great, that two chariots

could conveniently drive abreast upon them. These mighty defences were

crowned and strengthened by two hundred and fifty high towers, and even

these would have been insufficient, if Babylon had not been protected on

one side by impassable morasses. The gigantic city lay on both shores

of the Euphrates. It was more than forty miles in circumference, and

its walls enclosed buildings surpassing in size and grandeur even the

Pyramids and the temples of Thebes.

[These numbers and measurements are taken partly from Herodotus,

partly from Diodorus, Strabo and Arrian. And even the ruins of this

giant city, writes Lavard, are such as to allow a very fair

conclusion of its enormous size. Aristotle (Polit. III. I.) says

Babylon's dimensions were not those of a city, but of a nation.]

The mighty gates of brass, through which the royal train entered the

city, had opened wide to receive this noble company. This entrance was

defended on each side by a strong tower, and before each of these towers

lay, as warder, a gigantic winged bull carved in stone, with a human

head, bearded and solemn. Nitetis gazed at these gates in astonishment,

and then a joyful smile lighted up her face, as she looked up the long

broad street so brightly and beautifully decorated to welcome her.

The moment they beheld the king and the gilded carriage, the multitude

burst into loud shouts of joy, but when Bartja, the people's darling,

came in sight, the shouts rose to thunder-peals and shrieks of delight,

which seemed as if they would never end. It was long since the populace

had seen Cambyses, for in accordance with Median customs the king seldom

appeared in public. Like the Deity, he was to govern invisibly, and his

occasional appearance before the nation to be looked upon as a festival

and occasion of rejoicing. Thus all Babylon had come out to-day to

look upon their awful ruler and to welcome their favorite Bartja on his

return. The windows were crowded with eager, curious women, who threw

flowers before the approaching train, or poured sweet perfumes from

above as they passed by. The pavement was thickly strewn with myrtle

and palm branches, trees of different kinds had been placed before the

house-doors, carpets and gay cloths hung from the windows, garlands of

flowers were wreathed from house to house, fragrant odors of incense and

sandal-wood perfumed the air, and the way was lined with thousands of

gaping Babylonians dressed in white linen shirts, gaily-colored woollen

petticoats and short cloaks, and carrying long staves headed with

pomegranates, birds, or roses, of gold or silver.

The streets through which the procession moved were broad and straight,

the houses on either side, built of brick, tall and handsome. Towering

above every thing else, and visible from all points, rose the gigantic

temple of Bel. Its colossal staircase, like a huge serpent, wound round

and round the ever-diminishing series of stories composing the tower,

until it reached the summit crowned by the sanctuary itself.

[This temple of Bel, which many consider may have been the tower of

Babel of Genesis XI., is mentioned by Herodotus I. 181. 182. 183.

Diodorus II. 8. 9. (Ktesias), Strabo 738 and many other ancient

writers. The people living in its neighborhood now call the ruins

Birs Nimrod, the castle of Nimrod. In the text we have

reconstructed it as far as possible from the accounts of classical

writers. The first story, which is still standing, in the midst of

a heap of ruins, is 260 feet high. The walls surrounding the tower

are said to be still clearly recognizable, and were 4000 feet long

and 3000 broad. ]

The procession approached the royal palace. This corresponded in its

enormous size to the rest of the vast city. The walls surrounding it

were covered with gaily-colored and glazed representations of strange

figures made up of human beings, birds, quadrupeds and fishes;

hunting-scenes, battles and solemn processions. By the side of the river

towards the north, rose the hanging-gardens, and the smaller palace lay

toward the east on the other bank of the Euphrates, connected with the

larger one by the wondrous erection, a firm bridge of stone.

Our train passed on through the brazen gates of three of the walls

surrounding the palace, and then halted. Nitetis was lifted from her

carriage by bearers; she was at last in her new home, and soon after in

the apartments of the women's house assigned to her temporary use.

Cambyses, Bartja and their friends already known to us, were still

standing in the gaily-carpeted court of the palace, surrounded by

at least a hundred splendid dignitaries in magnificent dresses, when

suddenly a sound of loud female voices was heard, and a lovely Persian

girl richly dressed, her thick fair hair profusely wreathed with pearls,

rushed into the court, pursued by several women older than herself. She

ran up to the group of men; Cambyses with a smile placed himself in her

path, but the impetuous girl slipped adroitly past him, and in another

moment was hanging on Bartja's neck, crying and laughing by turns.

The attendants in pursuit prostrated themselves at a respectful

distance, but Cambyses, on seeing the caresses lavished by the young

girl on her newly-returned brother, cried: "For shame, Atossa! remember

that since you began to wear ear-rings you have ceased to be a child!

[Ear-rings were given to the Persian girls in their fifteenth year,

the marriageable age. Vendid. Farlard XIV. 66. At this age too

boys as well as girls were obliged to wear the sacred cord, Kuctl or

Kosti as a girdle; and were only allowed to unloose it in the night.

The making of this cord is attended with many ceremonies, even among

the Persians of our own day. Seventy-two threads must be employed,

but black wool is prohibited.]

It is right that you should rejoice to see your brother again, but a

king's daughter must never forget what is due to her rank, even in her

greatest joy. Go back to your mother directly. I see your attendants

waiting yonder. Go and tell them, that as this is a day of rejoicing I

will allow your heedless conduct to pass unpunished, but the next time

you appear unbidden in these apartments, which none may enter without

permission, I shall tell Boges to keep you twelve days in confinement.

Remember this, thoughtless child, and tell our mother, Bartja and I are

coming to visit her. Now give me a kiss. You will not? We shall see,

capricious little one!" And so saying the king sprang towards his

refractory little sister, and seizing both her hands in one of his own,

bent back her charming head with the other and kissed her in spite of

her resistance. She screamed from the violence of his grasp, and ran

away crying to her attendants, who took her back to her apartments.

When Atossa had disappeared, Bartja said; "You were too rough with the

little one, Cambyses. She screamed with pain!"

Once more the king's face clouded, but suppressing the harsh words which

trembled on his lips, he only answered, turning towards the house: "Let

us come to our mother now; she begged me to bring you as soon as you

arrived. The women, as usual, are all impatience. Nitetis told me your

rosy cheeks and fair curls had bewitched the Egyptian women too. I would

advise you to pray betimes to Mithras for eternal youth, and for his

protection against the wrinkles of age!"

"Do you mean to imply by these words that I have no virtues which could

make an old age beautiful?" asked Bartja.

"I explain my words to no one. Come."

"But I ask for an opportunity of proving, that I am inferior to none of

my nation in manly qualities."

"For that matter, the shouts of the Babylonians today will have been

proof enough, that deeds are not wanted from you, in order to win their

admiration."

"Cambyses!"

"Now come! We are just on the eve of a war with the Massagetae; there

you will have a good opportunity of proving what you are worth."

A few minutes later, and Bartja was in the arms of his blind mother. She

had been waiting for her darling's arrival with a beating heart, and

in the joy of hearing his voice once more, and of being able to lay her

hands again on that beloved head, she forgot everything else--even her

first-born son who stood by smiling bitterly, as he watched the rich and

boundless stream of a mother's love flowing out to his younger brother.

Cambyses had been spoiled from his earliest infancy. Every wish had been

fulfilled, every look regarded as a command; and thus he grew up totally

unable to brook contradiction, giving way to the most violent anger

if any of his subjects (and he knew no human beings who were not his

subjects) dared to oppose him.

His father Cyrus, conqueror of half the world--the man whose genius

had raised Persia from a small nation to the summit of earthly

greatness--who had secured for himself the reverence and admiration of

countless subjugated tribes--this great king was incapable of carrying

out in his own small family-circle the system of education he had so

successfully adopted towards entire countries. He could see nought else

in Cambyses but the future king of Persia, and commanded his subjects to

pay him an unquestioning obedience, entirely forgetful of the fact that

he who is to govern well must begin by learning to obey.

Cambyses had been the first-born son of Kassandane, the wife whom Cyrus

had loved and married young; three daughters followed, and at last,

fifteen years later, Bartja had come into the world. Their eldest son

had already outgrown his parents' caresses, when this little child

appeared to engross all their care and love. His gentle, affectionate

and clinging nature made him the darling of both father and mother:

Cambyses was treated with consideration by his parents, but their love

was for Bartja. Cambyses was brave; he distinguished himself often in

the field, but his disposition was haughty and imperious; men served him

with fear and trembling, while Bartja, ever sociable and sympathizing,

converted all his companions into loving friends. As to the mass of

the people, they feared the king, and trembled when he drew near,

notwithstanding the lavish manner in which he showered rich gifts around

him; but they loved Bartja, and believed they saw in him the image of

the great Cyrus the "Father of his people."

Cambyses knew well that all this love, so freely given to Bartja, was

not to be bought. He did not hate his younger brother, but he felt

annoyed that a youth who had as yet done nothing to distinguish himself,

should be honored and revered as if he were already a hero and public

benefactor. Whatever annoyed or displeased him he considered must be

wrong; where he disapproved he did not spare his censures, and from his

very childhood, Cambyses' reproofs had been dreaded even by the mighty.

The enthusiastic shouts of the populace, the overflowing love of his

mother and sister, and above all, the warm encomiums expressed by

Nitetis, had excited a jealousy which his pride had never allowed

hitherto. Nitetis had taken his fancy in a remarkable degree. This

daughter of a powerful monarch, like himself disdaining everything mean

and inferior, had yet acknowledged him to be her superior, and to win

his favor had not shrunk from the laborious task of mastering his native

language. These qualities, added to her peculiar style of beauty, which

excited his admiration from its rare novelty, half Egyptian half

Greek, (her mother having been a Greek), had not failed to make a deep

impression on him. But she had been liberal in her praise of Bartja;

that was enough to disturb Cambyses' mind and prepare the way for

jealousy.

As he and his brother were leaving the women's apartments, Cambyses

adopted a hasty resolution and exclaimed: "You asked me just now for an

opportunity of proving your courage. I will not refuse. The Tapuri

have risen; I have sent troops to the frontier. Go to Rhagae, take the

command and show what you are worth."

"Thanks, brother," cried Bartja. "May I take my friends, Darius, Gyges

and Zopyrus with me?"

"That favor shall be granted too. I hope you will all do your duty

bravely and promptly, that you may be back in three months to join the

main army in the expedition of revenge on the Massagetae. It will take

place in spring."

"I will start to-morrow."

"Then farewell."

"If Auramazda should spare my life and I should return victorious, will

you promise to grant me one favor?"

"Yes, I will."

"Now, then, I feel confident of victory, even if I should have to stand

with a thousand men against ten thousand of the enemy." Bartja's eyes

sparkled, he was thinking of Sappho.

"Well," answered his brother, "I shall be very glad if your actions bear

out these glowing words. But stop; I have something more to say. You are

now twenty years of age; you must marry. Roxana, daughter of the noble

Hydarnes, is marriageable, and is said to be beautiful. Her birth makes

her a fitting bride for you."

"Oh! brother, do not speak of marriage; I..." "You must marry, for I

have no children."

"But you are still young; you will not remain childless. Besides, I do

not say that I will never marry. Do not be angry, but just now, when I

am to prove my courage, I would rather hear nothing about women."

"Well, then, you must marry Roxana when you return from the North. But I

should advise you to take her with you to the field. A Persian generally

fights better if he knows that, beside his most precious treasures, he

has a beautiful woman in his tent to defend."

"Spare me this one command, my brother. I conjure thee, by the soul

of our father, not to inflict on me a wife of whom I know nothing, and

never wish to know. Give Roxana to Zopyrus, who is so fond of women, or

to Darius or Bessus, who are related to her father Hydarnes. I cannot

love her, and should be miserable..."

Cambyses interrupted him with a laugh, exclaiming: "Did you learn these

notions in Egypt, where it is the custom to be contented with one wife?

In truth, I have long repented having sent a boy like you abroad. I am

not accustomed to bear contradiction, and shall listen to no excuses

after the war. This once I will allow you to go to the field without a

wife. I will not force you to do what, in your opinion, might endanger

your valor. But it seems to me that you have other and more secret

reasons for refusing my brotherly proposal. If that is the case, I am

sorry for you. However, for the present, you can depart, but after the

war I will hear no remonstrances. You know me."

"Perhaps after the war I may ask for the very thing, which I am refusing

now--but never for Roxana! It is just as unwise to try to make a man

happy by force as it is wicked to compel him to be unhappy, and I thank

you for granting my request."

"Don't try my powers of yielding too often!--How happy you look! I

really believe you are in love with some one woman by whose side all the

others have lost their charms."

Bartja blushed to his temples, and seizing his brother's hand,

exclaimed: "Ask no further now, accept my thanks once more, and

farewell. May I bid Nitetis farewell too, when I have taken leave of our

mother and Atossa?"

Cambyses bit his lip, looked searchingly into Bartja's face, and finding

that the boy grew uneasy under his glance, exclaimed abruptly and

angrily: "Your first business is to hasten to the Tapuri. My wife needs

your care no longer; she has other protectors now." So saying he turned

his back on his brother and passed on into the great hall, blazing with

gold, purple and jewels, where the chiefs of the army, satraps, judges,

treasurers, secretaries, counsellors, eunuchs, door-keepers, introducers

of strangers, chamberlains, keepers of the wardrobe, dressers,

cup-bearers, equerries, masters of the chase, physicians, eyes and ears

of the king, ambassadors and plenipotentiaries of all descriptions--were

in waiting for him.

[The "eyes and ears" of the king may be compared to our police-

ministers. Darius may have borrowed the name from Egypt, where such

titles as "the 2 eyes of the king for Upper Egypt, the 2 ears of the

king for Lower Egypt" are to be found on the earlier monuments, for

instance in the tomb of Amen en, heb at Abd el Qurnah. And in

Herodotus II. 114. the boy Cyrus calls one of his playfellows "the

eye of the king," Herod. (I, 100.)]

The king was preceded by heralds bearing staves, and followed by a

host of fan, sedan and footstool-bearers, men carrying carpets, and

secretaries who the moment he uttered a command, or even indicated a

concession, a punishment or a reward, hastened to note it down and at

once hand it over to the officials empowered to execute his decrees.

In the middle of the brilliantly-lighted hall stood a gilded table,

which looked as if it must give way beneath the mass of gold and silver

vessels, plates, cups and bowls which were arranged with great order

upon it. The king's private table, the service on which was of immense

worth and beauty, was placed in an apartment opening out of the large

hall, and separated from it by purple hangings. These concealed him from

the gaze of the revellers, but did not prevent their every movement from

being watched by his eye. It was an object of the highest ambition to be

one of those who ate at the king's table, and even he to whom a portion

was sent might deem himself a highly-favored man.

As Cambyses entered the hall, nearly every one present prostrated

themselves before him; his relations alone, distinguished by the blue

and white fillet on the tiara, contented themselves with a deferential

obeisance.

After the king had seated himself in his private apartment, the rest

of the company took their places, and then a tremendous revel began.

Animals, roasted whole, were placed on the table, and, when hunger was

appeased, several courses of the rarest delicacies followed, celebrated

in later times even among the Greeks under the name of "Persian

dessert."

[Herodotus (I. 133.) writes that the Persians fancied the Greeks'

hunger was never satisfied, because nothing special was brought to

the table at the end of the meal.]

Slaves then entered to remove the remains of the food. Others brought in

immense jugs of wine, the king left his own apartment, took his seat

at the head of the table, numerous cup-bearers filled the golden

drinking-cups in the most graceful manner, first tasting the wine to

prove that it was free from poison, and soon one of those drinking-bouts

had begun under the best auspices, at which, a century or two later,

Alexander the Great, forgot not only moderation but even friendship

itself.

Cambyses was unwontedly silent. The suspicion had entered his mind, that

Bartja loved Nitetis. Why had he, contrary to all custom, so decidedly

refused to marry a noble and beautiful girl, when his brother's

childlessness rendered marriage an evident and urgent duty for him? Why

had he wished to see the Egyptian princess again before leaving Babylon?

and blushed as he expressed that wish? and why had she, almost without

being asked, praised him so warmly?

It is well that he is going, thought the king; at least he shall not rob

me of her love. If he were not my brother I would send him to a place

from whence none can return.

After midnight he broke up the banquet. Boges appeared to conduct him

to the Harem, which he was accustomed to visit at this hour, when

sufficiently sober.

"Phaedime awaits you with impatience," said the eunuch.

"Let her wait!" was the king's answer. "Have you given orders that the

palace on the hanging-gardens shall be set in order?"

"It will be ready for occupation to-morrow."

"What apartments have been assigned to the Egyptian Princess?"

"Those formerly occupied by the second wife of your father Cyrus, the

deceased Amytis."

"That is well. Nitetis is to be treated with the greatest respect, and

to receive no commands even from yourself, but such as I give you for

her."

Boges bowed low.

"See that no one, not even Croesus, has admission to her before my....

before I give further orders."

"Croesus was with her this evening."

"What may have been his business with my wife?"

"I do not know, for I do not understand the Greek language, but I heard

the name of Bartja several times, and it seemed to me that the Egyptian

had received sorrowful intelligence. She was looking very sad when I

came, after Croesus had left, to inquire if she had any commands for

me."

"May Ahriman blast thy tongue," muttered the king, and then turning his

back on the eunuch he followed the torch-bearers and attendants, who

were in waiting to disrobe him, to his own private apartments.

At noon on the following clay, Bartja, accompanied by his friends and a

troop of attendants, started on horseback for the frontier. Croesus

went with the young warriors as far as the city gates, and as their last

farewells and embraces were being exchanged, Bartja whispered to his old

friend: "If the messenger from Egypt should have a letter for me in his

bag, will you send it on?"

"Shall you be able to decipher the Greek writing?"

"Gyges and love will help me!"

"When I told Nitetis of your departure she begged me to wish you

farewell, and tell you not to forget Egypt."

"I am not likely to do that."

"The gods take thee into their care, my son. Be prudent, do not risk

your life heedlessly, but remember that it is no longer only your own.

Exercise the gentleness of a father towards the rebels; they did not

rise in mere self-will, but to gain their freedom, the most precious

possession of mankind. Remember, too, that to shew mercy is better than

to shed blood; the sword killeth, but the favor of the ruler bringeth

joy and happiness. Conclude the war as speedily as possible, for war is

a perversion of nature; in peace the sons outlive the fathers, but in

war the fathers live to mourn for their slain sons. Farewell, my young

heroes, go forward and conquer!"

CHAPTER XIII.

Cambyses passed a sleepless night. The feeling of jealousy, so totally

new to him, increased his desire to possess Nitetis, but he dared not

take her as his wife yet, as the Persian law forbade the king to marry a

foreign wife, until she had become familiar with the customs of Iran and

confessed herself a disciple of Zoroaster.

[Zoroaster, really Zarathustra or Zerethoschtro, was one of the

`greatest among founders of new religions and lawgivers. His name

signified "golden star" according to Anquetil du Perron. But this

interpretation is as doubtful, as the many others which have been

attempted. An appropriate one is given in the essay by Kern quoted

below, from zara golden, and thwistra glittering; thus "the gold

glittering one." It is uncertain whether he was born in Bactria,

Media or Persia, Anquetil thinks in Urmi, a town in Aderbaijan. His

father's name was Porosehasp, his mother's Dogdo, and his family

boasted of royal descent. The time of his birth is very,--Spiegel

says "hopelessly"--dark. Anquetil, and many other scholars would

place it in the reign of Darius, a view which has been proved to be

incorrect by Spiegel, Duncker and v. Schack in his introduction.]

According to this law a whole year must pass before Nitetis could become

the wife of a Persian monarch? but what was the law to Cambyses? In his

eyes the law was embodied in his own person, and in his opinion three

months would be amply sufficient to initiate Nitetis in the Magian

mysteries, after which process she could become his bride.

To-day his other wives seemed hateful, even loathsome, to him. From

Cambyses' earliest youth his house had been carefully provided with

women. Beautiful girls from all parts of Asia, black-eyed Armenians,

dazzlingly fair maidens from the Caucasus, delicate girls from the

shores of the Ganges, luxurious Babylonian women, golden-haired Persians

and the effeminate daughters of the Median plains; indeed many of the

noblest Achaemenidae had given him their daughters in marriage.

Phaedime, the daughter of Otanes, and niece of his own mother

Kassandane, had been Cambyses' favorite wife hitherto, or at least

the only one of whom it could be said that she was more to him than a

purchased slave would have been. But even she, in his present sated and

disgusted state of feeling, seemed vulgar and contemptible, especially

when he thought of Nitetis.

The Egyptian seemed formed of nobler, better stuff than they all.

They were flattering, coaxing girls; Nitetis was a queen. They humbled

themselves in the dust at his feet; but when he thought of Nitetis,

he beheld her erect, standing before him, on the same proud level as

himself. He determined that from henceforth she should not only occupy

Phaedime's place, but should be to him what Kassandane had been to his

father Cyrus.

She was the only one of his wives who could assist him by her knowledge

and advice; the others were all like children, ignorant, and caring

for nothing but dress and finery: living only for petty intrigues and

useless trifles. This Egyptian girl would be obliged to love him, for he

would be her protector, her lord, her father and brother in this foreign

land.

"She must," he said to himself, and to this despot to wish for a thing

and to possess it seemed one and the same. "Bartja had better take

care," he murmured, "or he shall know what fate awaits the man who dares

to cross my path."

Nitetis too had passed a restless night.

The common apartment of the women was next to her own, and the noise

and singing there had not ceased until nearly midnight. She could often

distinguish the shrill voice of Boges joking and laughing with these

women, who were under his charge. At last all was quiet in the wide

palace halls and then her thoughts turned to her distant home and her

poor sister Tachot, longing for her and for the beautiful Bartja, who,

Croesus had told her, was going to-morrow to the war and possibly to

death. At last she fell asleep, overcome by the fatigue of the journey

and dreaming of her future husband. She saw him on his black charger.

The foaming animal shied at Bartja who was lying in the road, threw his

rider and dragged him into the Nile, whose waves became blood-red. In

her terror she screamed for help; her cries were echoed back from the

Pyramids in such loud and fearful tones that she awoke.

But hark! what could that be? That wailing, shrill cry which she had

heard in her dream,--she could hear it still.

Hastily drawing aside the shutters from one of the openings which served

as windows, she looked out. A large and beautiful garden, laid out with

fountains and shady avenues, lay before her, glittering with the early

dew.

[The Persian gardens were celebrated throughout the old world, and

seem to have been laid out much less stiffly than the Egyptian.

Even the kings of Persia did not consider horticulture beneath their

notice, and the highest among the Achaemenidae took an especial

pleasure in laying out parks, called in Persian Paradises. Their

admiration for well-grown trees went so far, that Xerxes, finding on

his way to Greece a singularly beautiful tree, hung ornaments of

gold upon its branches. Firdusi, the great Persian epic poet,

compares human beauty to the growth of the cypress, as the highest

praise he can give. Indeed some trees were worshipped by the

Persians; and as the tree of life in the Hebrew and Egyptian, so we

find sacred trees in their Paradise.]

No sound was to be heard except the one which had alarmed her, and this

too died away at last on the morning breeze. After a few minutes she

heard cries and noise in the distance, then the great city awaking to

its daily work, which soon settled down into a deep, dull murmur like

the roaring of the sea.

Nitetis was by this time so thoroughly awakened from the effect of the

fresh morning air, that she did not care to lie down again. She went

once more to the window and perceived two figures coming out of the

house. One she recognized as the eunuch Boges; he was talking to a

beautiful Persian woman carelessly dressed. They approached her window.

Nitetis hid herself behind the half-opened shutter and listened, for she

fancied she heard her own name.

"The Egyptian is still asleep." said Boges. "She must be much fatigued

by the journey. I see too that one of her windows is still firmly

closed."

"Then tell me quickly," said the Persian. "Do you really think that this

stranger's coming can injure me in any way?"

"Certainly, I do, my pretty one."

"But what leads you to suppose this?"

"She is only to obey the king's commands, not mine."

"Is that all?"

"No, my treasure. I know the king. I can read his features as the Magi

read the sacred books."

"Then we must ruin her."

"More easily said than done, my little bird."

"Leave me alone! you are insolent."

"Well, but nobody can see us, and you know you can do nothing without my

help."

"Very well then, I don't care. But tell me quickly what we can do."

"Thanks, my sweet Phaedime. Well, for the present we must be patient

and wait our time. That detestable hypocrite Croesus seems to have

established himself as protector of the Egyptian; when he is away, we

must set our snares."

The speakers were by this time at such a distance, that Nitetis could

not understand what they said. In silent indignation she closed the

shutter, and called her maidens to dress her. She knew her enemies

now--she knew that a thousand dangers surrounded her, and yet she felt

proud and happy, for was she not chosen to be the real wife of Cambyses?

Her own worth seemed clearer to her than ever before, from a comparison

with these miserable creatures, and a wonderful certainty of ultimate

victory stole into her heart, for Nitetis was a firm believer in the

magic power of virtue.

"What was that dreadful sound I heard so early?" she asked of her

principal waiting-woman, who was arranging her hair.

"Do you mean the sounding brass, lady?"

"Scarcely two hours ago I was awakened by a strange and frightful

sound."

"That was the sounding brass, lady. It is used to awaken the young sons

of the Persian nobles, who are brought up at the gate of the king. You

will soon become accustomed to it. We have long ceased even to hear it,

and indeed on great festivals, when it is not sounded, we awake from the

unaccustomed stillness. From the hanging-gardens you will be able to see

how the boys are taken to bathe every morning, whatever the weather may

be. The poor little ones are taken from their mothers when they are six

years old, to be brought up with the other boys of their own rank under

the king's eye."

"Are they to begin learning the luxurious manners of the court so

early?"

"Oh no! the poor boys lead a terrible life. They are obliged to sleep on

the hard ground, to rise before the sun. Their food is bread and water,

with very little meat, and they are never allowed to taste wine or

vegetables. Indeed at times they are deprived of food and drink for

some days, simply to accustom them to privations. When the court is at

Ecbatana or Pasargadae, and the weather is bitterly cold, they are sure

to be taken out to bathe, and here in Susa, the hotter the sun, the

longer and more difficult the marches they are compelled to take."

[The summer residences of the kings cf Persia, where it is sometimes

very cold. Ecbatana lies at the foot of the high Elburs (Orontes)

range of mountains in the neighborhood of the modern Hamadan;

Pasargadae not far from Rachmet in the highlands of Iran]

"And these boys, so simply and severely brought up, become in after life

such luxurious men?"

"Yes, that is always the case. A meal that has been waited for is

all the more relished when it comes. These boys see splendor and

magnificence around them daily; they know how rich they are in reality,

and yet have to suffer from hunger and privation. Who can wonder, if,

when at last they gain their liberty, they plunge into the pleasures of

life with a tenfold eagerness? But on the other hand, in time of war, or

when going to the chase, they never murmur at hunger or thirst, spring

with a laugh into the mud regardless of their thin boots and purple

trousers, and sleep as soundly on a rock as on their beds of delicate

Arabian wool. You must see the feats these boys perform, especially when

the king is watching them! Cambyses will certainly take you if you ask

him."

"I know those exercises already. In Egypt the girls as well as the

boys are kept to such gymnastic exercises. My limbs were trained to

flexibility by running, postures, and games with hoops and balls.

"How strange! Here, we women grow up just as we please, and are taught

nothing but a little spinning and weaving. Is it true that most of the

Egyptian women can read and write?"

"Yes, nearly all."

"By Mithras, you must be a clever people! Scarcely any of the Persians,

except the Magi and the scribes, learn these difficult arts. The sons

of the nobles are taught to speak the truth, to be courageous, obedient,

and to reverence the gods; to hunt, ride, plant trees and discern

between herbs; but whoever, like the noble Darius, wishes to learn the

art of writing, must apply to the Magi. Women are forbidden to turn

their minds to such studies.--Now your dress is complete. This string

of pearls, which the king sent this morning, looks magnificent in your

raven-black hair, but it is easy to see that you are not accustomed to

the full silk trousers and high-heeled boots. If, however, you walk two

or three times up and down the room you will surpass all the Persian

ladies even in your walk!"

At this moment a knock was heard and Boges entered. He had come to

conduct Nitetis to Kassandane's apartments, where Cambyses was waiting

for her.

The eunuch affected an abject humility, and poured forth a stream of

flattering words, in which he likened the princess to the sun, the

starry heavens, a pure fount of happiness, and a garden of roses.

Nitetis deigned him not a word in reply, but followed, with a beating

heart, to the queen's apartment.

In order to keep out the noonday sun and produce a salutary half-light

for the blind queen's eyes, her windows were shaded by curtains of green

Indian silk. The floor was covered with a thick Babylonian carpet, soft

as moss under the foot. The walls were faced with a mosaic of ivory,

tortoise-shell, gold, silver, malachite, lapis-lazuli, ebony and amber.

The seats and couches were of gold covered with lions' skins, and a

table of silver stood by the side of the blind queen. Kassandane

was seated in a costly arm-chair. She wore a robe of violet-blue,

embroidered with silver, and over her snow-white hair lay a long veil

of delicate lace, woven in Egypt, the ends of which were wound round her

neck and tied in a large bow beneath her chin. She was between sixty and

seventy years old; her face, framed, as it were, into a picture by the

lace veil, was exquisitely symmetrical in its form, intellectual, kind

and benevolent in its expression.

The blind eyes were closed, but those who gazed on her felt that,

if open, they would shine with the gentle light of stars. Even when

sitting, her attitude and height showed a tall and stately figure.

Indeed her entire appearance was worthy the widow of the great and good

Cyrus.

On a low seat at her feet, drawing long threads from a golden spindle,

sat the queen's youngest child Atossa, born to her late in life.

Cambyses was standing before her, and behind, hardly visible in the dim

light, Nebenchari, the Egyptian oculist.

As Nitetis entered, Cambyses came towards her and led her to his mother.

The daughter of Amasis fell on her knees before this venerable woman,

and kissed her hand with real affection.

"Be welcome here!" exclaimed the blind queen, feeling her way to the

young girl's head, on which she laid her hand, "I have heard much in

your praise, and hope to gain in you a dear and loving daughter."

Nitetis kissed the gentle, delicate hand again, saying in a low voice:

"O how I thank you for these words! Will you, the wife of the great

Cyrus, permit me to call you mother? My tongue has been so long

accustomed to this sweet word; and now after long weeks of silence, I

tremble with joy at the thought that I may say 'my mother' once more! I

will indeed try to deserve your love and kindness; and you--you will

be to me all that your loving countenance seems to promise? Advise and

teach me; let me find a refuge at your feet, if sometimes the longing

for home becomes too strong, and my poor heart too weak to bear its

grief or joy alone. Oh, be my mother! that one word includes all else!"

The blind queen felt the warm tears fall on her hand; she pressed

her lips kindly on the weeping girl's forehead, and answered: "I can

understand your feelings. My apartments shall be always open to you, my

heart ready to welcome you here. Come when you will, and call me your

mother with the same perfect confidence with which I, from my whole

heart, name you my daughter. In a few months you will be my son's wife,

and then the gods may grant you that gift, which, by implanting within

you the feelings of a mother, will prevent you from feeling the need of

one."

"May Ormuszd hear and give his blessing!" said Cambyses. "I rejoice,

mother, that my wife pleases you, and I know that when once she becomes

familiar with our manners and customs she will be happy here. If Nitetis

pay due heed, our marriage can be celebrated in four months."

"But the law--" began his mother.

"I command--in four months, and should like to see him who dare raise

an objection. Farewell! Nebenchari, use your best skill for the queen's

eyes, and if my wife permit, you, as her countryman, may visit her

to-morrow. Farewell! Bartja sends his parting greetings. He is on the

road to the Tapuri."

Atossa wiped away a tear in silence, but Kassandane answered: "You would

have done well to allow the boy to remain here a few months longer. Your

commander, Megabyzus, could have subdued that small nation alone."

"Of that I have no doubt," replied the king, "but Bartja desired an

opportunity of distinguishing himself in the field; and for that reason

I sent him."

"Would he not gladly have waited until the war with the Massageta; where

more glory might be gained?" asked the blind woman.

"Yes," said Atossa, "and if he should fall in this war, you will

have deprived him of the power of fulfilling his most sacred duty, of

avenging the soul of our father!"

"Be silent!" cried Cambyses in an overbearing tone, "or I shall have to

teach you what is becoming in women and children. Bartja is on far too

good terms with fortune to fall in the war. He will live, I hope, to

deserve the love which is now so freely flung into his lap like an

alms."

"How canst thou speak thus?" cried Kassandane. "In what manly virtue is

Bartja wanting? Is it his fault, that he has had no such opportunity of

distinguishing himself in the field as thou hast had? You are the

king and I am bound to respect your commands, but I blame my son for

depriving his blind mother of the greatest joy left to her in her old

age. Bartja would have gladly remained here until the Massagetan war, if

your self-will had not determined otherwise."

"And what I will is good!" exclaimed Cambyses interrupting his mother,

and pale with anger, "I desire that this subject be not mentioned

again."

So saying, he left the room abruptly and went into the reception-hall,

followed by the immense retinue which never quitted him, whithersoever

he might direct his steps.

An hour passed, and still Nitetis and the lovely Atossa were sitting

side by side, at the feet of the queen. The Persian women listened

eagerly to all their new friend could tell them about Egypt and its

wonders.

"Oh! how I should like to visit your home!" exclaimed Atossa. "It must

be quite, quite different from Persia and everything else that I have

seen yet. The fruitful shores of your great river, larger even than the

Euphrates, the temples with their painted columns, those huge artificial

mountains, the Pyramids, where the ancient kings be buried--it must

all be wonderfully beautiful. But what pleases me best of all is your

description of the entertainments, where men and women converse together

as they like. The only meals we are allowed to take in the society

of men are on New Year's Day and the king's birthday, and then we are

forbidden to speak; indeed it is not thought right for us even to raise

our eyes. How different it is with you! By Mithras! mother, I should

like to be an Egyptian, for we poor creatures are in reality nothing but

miserable slaves; and yet I feel that the great Cyrus was my father too,

and that I am worth quite as much as most men. Do I not speak the

truth? can I not obey as well as command? have I not the same thirst and

longing for glory? could not I learn to ride, to string a bow, to fight

and swim, if I were taught and inured to such exercises?"

The girl had sprung from her seat while speaking, her eyes flashed and

she swung her spindle in the air, quite unconscious that in so doing she

was breaking the thread and entangling the flax.

"Remember what is fitting," reminded Kassandane. "A woman must submit

with humility to her quiet destiny, and not aspire to imitate the deeds

of men."

"But there are women who lead the same lives as men," cried Atossa.

"There are the Amazons who live on the shores of the Thermodon in

Themiscyra, and at Comana on the Iris; they have waged great wars, and

even to this day wear men's armor."

"Who told you this?"

"My old nurse, Stephanion, whom my father brought a captive from Sinope

to Pasargadae."

"But I can teach you better," said Nitetis. "It is true that in

Themiscyra and Comana there are a number of women who wear soldier's

armor; but they are only priestesses, and clothe themselves like the

warlike goddess they serve, in order to present to the worshippers a

manifestation of the divinity in human form. Croesus says that an army

of Amazons has never existed, but that the Greeks, (always ready

and able to turn anything into a beautiful myth), having seen these

priestesses, at once transformed the armed virgins dedicated to the

goddess into a nation of fighting women."

"Then they are liars!" exclaimed the disappointed girl.

"It is true, that the Greeks have not the same reverence for truth as

you have," answered Nitetis, "but they do not call the men who invent

these beautiful stories liars; they are called poets."

"Just as it is with ourselves," said Kassandane. "The poets, who sing

the praises of my husband, have altered and adorned his early life in

a marvellous manner; yet no one calls them liars. But tell me, my

daughter, is it true that these Greeks are more beautiful than other

men, and understand art better even than the Egyptians?"

"On that subject I should not venture to pronounce a judgment. There

is such a great difference between the Greek and Egyptian works of art.

When I went into our own gigantic temples to pray, I always felt as if I

must prostrate myself in the dust before the greatness of the gods, and

entreat them not to crush so insignificant a worm; but in the temple

of Hera at Samos, I could only raise my hands to heaven in joyful

thanksgiving, that the gods had made the earth so beautiful. In Egypt

I always believed as I had been taught: 'Life is asleep; we shall not

awake to our true existence in the kingdom of Osiris till the hour of

death;' but in Greece I thought: 'I am born to live and to enjoy this

cheerful, bright and blooming world.'"

"Ah! tell us something more about Greece," cried Atossa; "but first

Nebenchari must put a fresh bandage on my mother's eyes."

The oculist, a tall, grave man in the white robes of an Egyptian priest,

came forward to perform the necessary operation, and after being kindly

greeted by Nitetis, withdrew once more silently into the background.

At the same time a eunuch entered to enquire whether Croesus might be

allowed to pay his respectful homage to the king's mother.

The aged king soon appeared, and was welcomed as the old and tried

friend of the Persian royal family. Atossa, with her usual impetuosity,

fell on the neck of the friend she had so sorely missed during his

absence; the queen gave him her hand, and Nitetis met him like a loving

daughter.

"I thank the gods, that I am permitted to see you again," said Croesus.

"The young can look at life as a possession, as a thing understood and

sure, but at my age every year must be accepted as an undeserved gift

from the gods, for which a man must be thankful."

"I could envy you for this happy view of life," sighed Kassandane.

"My years are fewer than yours, and yet every new day seems to me a

punishment sent by the Immortals."

"Can I be listening to the wife of the great Cyrus?" asked Croesus. "How

long is it since courage and confidence left that brave heart? I tell

you, you will recover sight, and once more thank the gods for a good

old age. The man who recovers, after a serious illness, values health a

hundred-fold more than before; and he who regains sight after blindness,

must be an especial favorite of the gods. Imagine to yourself the

delight of that first moment when your eyes behold once more the bright

shining of the sun, the faces of your loved ones, the beauty of all

created things, and tell me, would not that outweigh even a whole life

of blindness and dark night? In the day of healing, even if that come

in old age, a new life will begin and I shall hear you confess that my

friend Solon was right."

"In what respect?" asked Atossa.

"In wishing that Mimnermos, the Colophonian poet, would correct the poem

in which he has assigned sixty years as the limit of a happy life, and

would change the sixty into eighty."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Kassandane. "Even were Mithras to restore my sight,

such a long life would be dreadful. Without my husband I seem to myself

like a wanderer in the desert, aimless and without a guide."

"Are your children then nothing to you, and this kingdom, of which you

have watched the rise and growth?"

"No indeed! but my children need me no longer, and the ruler of this

kingdom is too proud to listen to a woman's advice."

On hearing these words Atossa and Nitetis seized each one of the queen's

hands, and Nitetis cried: "You ought to desire a long life for our

sakes. What should we be without your help and protection?"

Kassandane smiled again, murmuring in a scarcely audible voice: "You are

right, my children, you will stand in need of your mother."

"Now you are speaking once more like the wife of the great Cyrus," cried

Croesus, kissing the robe of the blind woman. "Your presence will indeed

be needed, who can say how soon? Cambyses is like hard steel; sparks

fly wherever he strikes. You can hinder these sparks from kindling a

destroying fire among your loved ones, and this should be your duty. You

alone can dare to admonish the king in the violence of his passion. He

regards you as his equal, and, while despising the opinion of others,

feels wounded by his mother's disapproval. Is it not then your duty to

abide patiently as mediator between the king, the kingdom and your loved

ones, and so, by your own timely reproofs, to humble the pride of your

son, that he may be spared that deeper humiliation which, if not thus

averted, the gods will surely inflict."

"You are right," answered the blind woman, "but I feel only too well

that my influence over him is but small. He has been so much accustomed

to have his own will, that he will follow no advice, even if it come

from his mother's lips."

"But he must at least hear it," answered Croesus, "and that is much,

for even if he refuse to obey, your counsels will, like divine voices,

continue to make themselves heard within him, and will keep him back

from many a sinful act. I will remain your ally in this matter; for, as

Cambyses' dying father appointed me the counsellor of his son in word

and deed, I venture occasionally a bold word to arrest his excesses.

Ours is the only blame from which he shrinks: we alone can dare to speak

our opinion to him. Let us courageously do our duty in this our office:

you, moved by love to Persia and your son, and I by thankfulness to that

great man to whom I owe life and freedom, and whose son Cambyses is.

I know that you bemoan the manner in which he has been brought up; but

such late repentance must be avoided like poison. For the errors of the

wise the remedy is reparation, not regret; regret consumes the heart,

but the effort to repair an error causes it to throb with a noble

pride."

"In Egypt," said Nitetis, "regret is numbered among the forty-two deadly

sins. One of our principal commandments is, 'Thou shalt not consume

thine heart.'"

[In the Ritual of the Dead (indeed in almost every Papyrus of the

Dead) we meet with a representation of the soul, whose heart is

being weighed and judged. The speech made by the soul is called the

negative justification, in which she assures the 42 judges of the

dead, that she has not committed the 42 deadly sins which she

enumerates. This justification is doubly interesting because it

contains nearly the entire moral law of Moses, which last, apart

from all national peculiarities and habits of mind, seems to contain

the quintessence of human morality--and this we find ready

paragraphed in our negative justification. Todtenbuch ed. Lepsius.

125. We cannot discuss this question philosophically here, but the

law of Pythagoras, who borrowed so much from Egypt, and the contents

of which are the same, speaks for our view. It is similar in form

to the Egyptian.]

"There you remind me," said Croesus "that I have undertaken to arrange

for your instruction in the Persian customs, religion and language. I

had intended to withdraw to Barene, the town which I received as a gift

from Cyrus, and there, in that most lovely mountain valley, to take

my rest; but for your sake and for the king's, I will remain here and

continue to give you instruction in the Persian tongue. Kassandane

herself will initiate you in the customs peculiar to women at the

Persian court, and Oropastes, the high-priest, has been ordered by the

king to make you acquainted with the religion of Iran. He will be your

spiritual, and I your secular guardian."

At these words Nitetis, who had been smiling happily, cast down her eyes

and asked in a low voice: "Am I to become unfaithful to the gods of my

fathers, who have never failed to hear my prayers? Can I, ought I to

forget them?"

"Yes," said Kassandane decidedly, "thou canst, and it is thy bounden

duty, for a wife ought to have no friends but those her husband calls

such. The gods are a man's earliest, mightiest and most faithful

friends, and it therefore becomes thy duty, as a wife, to honor them,

and to close thine heart against strange gods and superstitions, as thou

wouldst close it against strange lovers."

"And," added Croesus, "we will not rob you of your deities; we will only

give them to you under other names. As Truth remains eternally the

same, whether called 'maa', as by the Egyptians, or 'Aletheia' as by the

Greeks, so the essence of the Deity continues unchanged in all places

and times. Listen, my daughter: I myself, while still king of Lydia,

often sacrificed in sincere devotion to the Apollo of the Greeks,

without a fear that in so doing I should offend the Lydian sun-god

Sandon; the Ionians pay their worship to the Asiatic Cybele, and, now

that I have become a Persian, I raise my hands adoringly to Mithras,

Ormuzd and the lovely Anahita. Pythagoras too, whose teaching is not new

to you, worships one god only, whom he calls Apollo; because, like the

Greek sun-god, he is the source of light and of those harmonies which

Pythagoras holds to be higher than all else. And lastly, Xenophanes of

Colophon laughs at the many and divers gods of Homer and sets one single

deity on high--the ceaselessly creative might of nature, whose essence

consists of thought, reason and eternity.

[A celebrated freethinker, who indulged in bold and independent

speculations, and suffered much persecution for his ridicule of the

Homeric deities. He flourished at the time of our history and lived

to a great age, far on into the fifth century. We have quoted some

fragments of his writings above. He committed his speculations also

to verse.]

"In this power everything has its rise, and it alone remains unchanged,

while all created matter must be continually renewed and perfected. The

ardent longing for some being above us, on whom we can lean when our own

powers fail,--the wonderful instinct which desires a faithful friend to

whom we can tell every joy and sorrow without fear of disclosure, the

thankfulness with which we behold this beautiful world and all the

rich blessings we have received--these are the feelings which we call

piety--devotion.

"These you must hold fast; remembering, however, at the same time, that

the world is ruled neither by the Egyptian, the Persian, nor the Greek

divinities apart from each other, but that all these are one; and

that one indivisible Deity, how different soever may be the names and

characters under which He is represented, guides the fate of men and

nations."

The two Persian women listened to the old man in amazement. Their

unpractised powers were unable to follow the course of his thoughts.

Nitetis, however, had understood him thoroughly, and answered: "My

mother Ladice was the pupil of Pythagoras, and has told me something

like this already; but the Egyptian priests consider such views to be

sacrilegious, and call their originators despisers of the gods. So I

tried to repress such thoughts; but now I will resist them no longer.

What the good and wise Croesus believes cannot possibly be evil or

impious! Let Oropastes come! I am ready to listen to his teaching. The

god of Thebes, our Ammon, shall be transformed into Ormuzd,--Isis or

Hathor, into Anahita, and those among our gods for whom I can find no

likeness in the Persian religion, I shall designate by the name of 'the

Deity.'"

Croesus smiled. He had fancied, knowing how obstinately the Egyptians

clung to all they had received from tradition and education, that it

would have been more difficult for Nitetis to give up the gods of her

native land. He had forgotten that her mother was a Greek, and that the

daughters of Amasis had studied the doctrines of Pythagoras. Neither

was he aware how ardently Nitetis longed to please her proud lord and

master. Even Amasis, who so revered the Samian philosopher, who had so

often yielded to Hellenic influence, and who with good reason might be

called a free-thinking Egyptian, would sooner have exchanged life for

death, than his multiform gods for the one idea "Deity."

"You are a teachable pupil," said Croesus, laying his hand on her head,

"and as a reward, you shall be allowed either to visit Kassandane, or

to receive Atossa in the hanging-gardens, every morning, and every

afternoon until sunset."

This joyful news was received with loud rejoicings by Atossa, and with a

grateful smile by the Egyptian girl.

"And lastly," said Croesus, "I have brought some balls and hoops with

me from Sais, that you may be able to amuse yourselves in Egyptian

fashion."

"Balls?" asked Atossa in amazement; "what can we do with the heavy

wooden things?"

"That need not trouble you," answered Croesus, laughing. "The balls I

speak of are pretty little things made of the skins of fish filled with

air, or of leather. A child of two years old can throw these, but you

would find it no easy matter even to lift one of those wooden balls with

which the Persian boys play. Are you content with me, Nitetis?"

[In Persia games with balls are still reckoned among the amusements

of the men. One player drives a wooden hall to the other, as in the

English game of cricket. Chardin (Voyage en Perse. III. p. 226.)

saw the game played by 300 players.]

"How can I thank you enough, my father?"

"And now listen to my plan for the division of your time. In the morning

you will visit Kassandane, chat with Atossa, and listen to the teaching

of your noble mother."

Here the blind woman bent her head in approval. "Towards noon I shall

come to teach you, and we can talk sometimes about Egypt and your loved

ones there, but always in Persian. You would like this, would you not?"

Nitetis smiled.

"Every second day, Oropastes will be in attendance to initiate you in

the Persian religion."

"I will take the greatest pains to comprehend him quickly."

"In the afternoon you can be with Atossa as long as you like. Does that

please you too?"

"O Croesus!" cried the young girl and kissed the old man's hand.

CHAPTER XIV.

The next day Nitetis removed to the country-house in the

hanging-gardens, and began a monotonous, but happy and industrious life

there, according to the rules laid down by Croesus. Every day she was

carried to Kassandane and Atossa in a closely shut-up litter. Nitetis

soon began to look upon the blind queen as a beloved and loving mother,

and the merry, spirited Atossa nearly made up to her for the loss of

her sister Tachot, so far away on the distant Nile. She could not have

desired a better companion than this gay, cheerful girl, whose wit and

merriment effectually prevented homesickness or discontent from settling

in her friend's heart. The gravity and earnestness of Nitetis' character

were brightened by Atossa's gaiety, and Atossa's exuberant spirits

calmed and regulated by the thoughtful nature of Nitetis.

Both Croesus and Kassandane were pleased and satisfied with their new

daughter and pupil, and Oropastes extolled her talents and industry

daily to Cambyses. She learnt the Persian language unusually well and

quickly; Cambyses only visited his mother when he hoped to find Nitetis

there, and presented her continually with rich dresses and costly

jewels. But the highest proof of his favor consisted in his abstaining

from visiting her at her house in the hanging-gardens, a line of conduct

which proved that he meant to include Nitetis in the small number of his

real and lawful wives, a privilege of which many a princess in his harem

could not boast.

The grave, beautiful girl threw a strange spell over this strong,

turbulent man. Her presence alone seemed enough to soften his stubborn

will, and he would watch their games for hours, his eyes fixed on her

graceful movements. Once, when the ball had fallen into the water,

the king sprang in after it, regardless of his costly apparel. Nitetis

screamed on seeing his intention, but Cambyses handed her the dripping

toy with the words: "Take care or I shall be obliged to frighten you

again." At the same time he drew from his neck a gold chain set with

jewels and gave it to the blushing girl, who thanked him with a look

which fully revealed her feelings for her future husband.

Croesus, Kassandane and Atossa soon noticed that Nitetis loved the king.

Her former fear of this proud and powerful being had indeed changed into

a passionate admiration. She felt as if she must die if deprived of his

presence. He seemed to her like a glorious and omnipotent divinity,

and her wish to possess him presumptuous and sacrilegious; but its

fulfilment shone before her as an idea more beautiful even than return

to her native land and reunion with those who, till now, had been her

only loved ones.

Nitetis herself was hardly conscious of the strength of her feelings,

and believed that when she trembled before the king's arrival it was

from fear, and not from her longing to behold him once more. Croesus,

however, had soon discovered the truth, and brought a deep blush to his

favorite's cheek by singing to her, old as he was, Anacreon's newest

song, which he had learnt at Sais from Ibykus

"We read the flying courser's name

Upon his side in marks of flame;

And by their turban'd brows alone

The warriors of the East are known.

But in the lover's glowing eyes,

The inlet to his bosom lies;

Through them we see the tiny mark,

Where Love has dropp'd his burning spark"

--Paegnion 15

And thus, in work and amusement, jest, earnest, and mutual love, the

weeks and months passed with Nitetis. Cambyses' command that she was

to be happy in his land had fulfilled itself, and by the time the

Mesopotamian spring-tide (January, February and March), which succeeds

the rainy month of December, was over, and the principal festival of the

Asiatics, the New Year, had been solemnized at the equinox, and the

May sun had begun to glow in the heavens, Nitetis felt quite at home in

Babylon, and all the Persians knew that the young Egyptian princess had

quite displaced Phaedime, the daughter of Otanes, in the king's favor,

and would certainly become his first and favorite wife.

Boges sank considerably in public estimation, for it was known that

Cambyses had ceased to visit the harem, and the chief of the eunuchs had

owed all his importance to the women, who were compelled to coax from

Cambyses whatever Boges desired for himself or others. Not a day passed

on which the mortified official did not consult with the supplanted

favorite Phaedime, as to the best means of ruining Nitetis, but their

most finely spun intrigues and artifices were baffled by the strength of

king's love and the blameless life of his royal bride.

Phaedime, impatient, mortified, and thirsting for vengeance, was

perpetually urging Boges to some decided act; he, on the contrary,

advised patience.

At last, however, after many weeks, he came to her full of joy,

exclaiming: "I have devised a little plan which must ruin the Egyptian

woman as surely as my name is Boges. When Bartja comes back, my

treasure, our hour will have arrived."

While saying this the creature rubbed his fat, soft hands, and, with his

perpetual fulsome smile, looked as if he were feasting on some good deed

performed. He did not, however, give Phaedime the faintest idea of the

nature of his "little plan," and only answered her pressing questions

with the words: "Better lay your head in a lion's jaws, than your secret

in the ears of a woman. I fully acknowledge your courage, but at the

same time advise you to remember that, though a man proves his courage

in action, a woman's is shown in obedience. Obey my words and await the

issue in patience." Nebenchari, the oculist, continued to attend

the queen, but so carefully abstained from all intercourse with the

Persians, that he became a proverb among them for his gloomy, silent

ways. During the day he was to be found in the queen's apartments,

silently examining large rolls of papyri, which he called the book of

Athotes and the sacred Ambres; at night, by permission of the king and

the satraps of Babylon, he often ascended one of the high towers on the

walls, called Tritantaechmes, in order to observe the stars.

The Chaldaean priests, the earliest astronomers, would have allowed him

to take his observations from the summit of the great temple of

Bel, their own observatory, but he refused this offer decidedly, and

persisted in his haughty reserve. When Oropastes attempted to explain

to him the celebrated Babylonian sun-dial, introduced by Anaximander of

Miletus into Greece, he turned from the Magian with a scornful laugh,

saying: "We knew all this, before you knew the meaning of an hour."

Nitetis had shown Nebenchari much kindness, yet he took no interest in

her, seemed indeed to avoid her purposely, and on her asking whether she

had displeased or offended him, answered: "For me you are a stranger.

How can I reckon those my friends, who can so gladly and so quickly

forget those they loved best, their gods, and the customs of their

native land?"

Boges quickly discovered this state of feeling on the part of

Nebenchari, and took much pains to secure him as an ally, but the

physician rejected the eunuch's flatteries, gifts, and attentions with

dignity.

No sooner did an Angare appear in the court of the palace with

despatches for the king, than Boges hastened to enquire whether news

from the Tapuri had arrived.

At length the desired messenger appeared, bringing word that the rebels

were subdued, and Bartja on the point of returning.

Three weeks passed--fresh messengers arrived from day to day announcing

the approach of the victorious prince; the streets glittered once more

in festal array, the army entered the gates of Babylon, Bartja thanked

the rejoicing multitude, and a short time after was in the arms of his

blind mother.

Cambyses received his brother with undisguised warmth, and took him to

the queen's apartments, when he knew that Nitetis would be there.

For he was sure the Egyptian girl loved him; his previous jealousy

seemed a silly fancy now, and he wished to give Bartja an opportunity of

seeing how entirely he trusted his bride.

Cambyses' love had made him mild and gentle, unwearied in giving and in

doing good. His wrath slumbered for a season, and around the spot where

the heads of those who had suffered capital punishment were exhibited as

a warning to their fellow-men, the hungry, screeching crows now wheeled,

in vain.

The influence of the insinuating eunuchs (a race who had never been seen

within the gates of Cyrus until the incorporation of Media, Lydia and

Babylon, in which countries they had filled many of the highest offices

at court and in the state), was now waning, and the importance of

the noble Achaemenidae increasing in proportion; for Cambyses applied

oftener to the latter than to the former for advice in matters relating

to the welfare of the country.

The aged Hystaspes, father of Darius, governor of Persia proper and

cousin to the king; Pharnaspes, Cambyses' grandfather on the mother's

side; Otanes, his uncle and father-in-law. Intaphernes, Aspathines,

Gobryas, Hydarnes, the general Megabyzus, father of Zopyrus, the envoy

Prexaspes, the noble Croesus, and the old warrior Araspes; in short,

the flower of the ancient Persian aristocracy, were now at the court of

Cambyses.

To this must be added that the entire nobility of the realm, the satraps

or governors of the provinces, and the chief priests from every town

were also assembled at Babylon to celebrate the king's birthday.

[The king's birthday was the principal feast among the Persians, and

called "the perfect feast." Herod. I. 133. Birthdays were held in

much honor by the ancients, and more especially those of their

kings. Both the great bilingual Egyptian tablets, which we possess

(the Rosetta stone, line 10 of hieroglyphic text; Gr. text, line 46.

and the edict of Canopus ed. Lepsius, hieroglyphic text 1. 3. Gr.

text 1. 5.) mention the celebration of the birthday of one of the

Ptolemies; and even of Rameses II., so early as the 14th century B.

C. we read: "There was joy in heaven on his birthday."]

The entire body of officials and deputies streamed from the provinces

up to the royal city, bringing presents to their ruler and good wishes;

they came also to take part in the great sacrifices at which horses,

stags, bulls and asses were slaughtered in thousands as offerings to the

gods.

At this festival all the Persians received gifts, every man was allowed

to ask a petition of the king, which seldom remained unfulfilled, and

in every city the people were feasted at the royal expense. Cambyses had

commanded that his marriage with Nitetis should be celebrated eight days

after the birthday, and all the magnates of the realms should be invited

to the ceremony.

The streets of Babylon swarmed with strangers, the colossal palaces on

both shores of the Euphrates were overfilled, and all the houses stood

adorned in festal brightness.

The zeal thus displayed by his people, this vast throng of human

beings,--representing and bringing around him, as it were, his entire

kingdom, contributed not a little to raise the king's spirits.

His pride was gratified; and the only longing left in his heart had been

stilled by Nitetis' love. For the first time in his life he believed

himself completely happy, and bestowed his gifts, not only from a sense

of his duty as king of Persia, but because the act of giving was in

itself a pleasure.

Megabyzus could not extol the deeds of Bartja and his friends too

highly. Cambyses embraced the young warriors, gave them horses and gold

chains, called them "brothers" and reminded Bartja, that he had promised

to grant him a petition if he returned victorious.

At this Bartja cast down his eyes, not knowing at first in what form to

begin his request, and the king answered laughing: "Look, my friends;

our young hero is blushing like a girl! It seems I shall have to grant

something important; so he had better wait until my birthday, and then,

at supper, when the wine has given him courage, he shall whisper in my

ear what he is now afraid to utter. Ask much, Bartja, I am happy myself,

and wish all my friends to be happy too." Bartja only smiled in answer

and went to his mother; for he had not yet opened his heart to her on

the matter which lay so near it.

He was afraid of meeting with decided opposition; but Croesus had

cleared the way far him by telling Kassandane so much in praise of

Sappho, her virtues and her graces, her talents and skill, that Nitetis

and Atossa maintained she must have given the old man a magic potion,

and Kassandane, after a short resistance, yielded to her darling's

entreaties.

"A Greek woman the lawful wife of a Persian prince of the blood!" cried

the blind woman. "Unheard of! What will Cambyses say? How can we gain

his consent?"

"On that matter you may be at ease, my mother," answered Bartja, "I am

as certain that my brother will give his consent, as I am that Sappho

will prove an ornament and honor to our house."

"Croesus has already told me much in favor of this maiden," answered

Kassandane, "and it pleases me that thou hast at last resolved to marry;

but never-the-less this alliance does not seem suitable for a son of

Cyrus. And have you forgotten that the Achaemenidae; will probably

refuse to recognize the child of a Greek mother as their future king, if

Cambyses should remain childless?"

"Mother, I fear nothing; for my heart is not set upon the crown. And

indeed many a king of Persia has had a mother of far lower parentage

than my Sappho. I feel persuaded that when my relations see the precious

jewel I have won on the Nile, not one of them will chide me."

"The gods grant that Sappho may be equal to our Nitetis!" answered

Kassandane, "I love her as if she were my own child, and bless the day

which brought her to Persia. The warm light of her eyes has melted your

brother's hard heart; her kindness and gentleness bring beauty into the

night of my blind old age, and her sweet earnestness and gravity have

changed your sister Atossa from an unruly child into a gentle maiden.

But now call them, (they are playing in the garden), and we will tell

them of the new friend they are to gain through you."

"Pardon me, my mother," answered Bartja, "but I must beg you not to tell

my sister until we are sure of the king's consent."

"You are right, my son. We must conceal your wish, to save Nitetis and

Atossa from a possible disappointment. A bright hope unfulfilled is

harder to bear than an unexpected sorrow. So let us wait for your

brother's consent, and may the gods give their blessing!" Early in the

morning of the king's birthday the Persians offered their sacrifices on

the shores of the Euphrates. A huge altar of silver had been raised on

an artificial hill. On this a mighty fire had been kindled, from which

flames and sweet odors rose towards heaven. White-robed magi fed the

fire with pieces of daintily-cut sandal-wood, and stirred it with

bundles of rods.

A cloth, the Paiti-dhana, was bound round the heads of the priests, the

ends of which covered the mouth, and thus preserved the pure fire from

pollution by human breath.

[The Persians were ordered to hold this little square piece of cloth

before their mouths when they prayed. It was from 2 to 7 fingers

broad. Anquetil gives a drawing of it in his Zend-Avesia. Strabo

speaks of the Paiti-dhana p. 733. He says the ends of the cloth

used as a covering for the head hung down over the mouth.]

The victims had been slaughtered in a meadow near the river, the flesh

cut into pieces, sprinkled with salt, and laid out on tender grasses,

sprouts of clover, myrtle-blossoms, and laurel-leaves, that the

beautiful daughter of Ormuzd, the patient, sacred Earth, might not be

touched by aught that was dead or bleeding.

Oropastes, the chief Destur,--[Priest]--now drew near the fire and

cast fresh butter into it. The flames leapt up into the air and all the

Persians fell on their knees and hid their faces, in the belief that the

fire was now ascending to their great god and father. The Magian then

took a mortar, laid some leaves and stalks of the sacred herb Haomas

within it, crushed them and poured the ruddy juice, the food of the

gods, into the flames.

After this he raised his hands to heaven, and, while the other priests

continually fed the flames into a wilder blaze by casting in fresh

butter, sang a long prayer out of the sacred books. In this prayer the

blessing of the gods was called down on everything pure and good, but

principally on the king and his entire realm. The good spirits of light,

life and truth; of all noble deeds; of the Earth, the universal giver;

of the refreshing waters, the shining metals, the pastures, trees and

innocent creatures, were praised: the evil spirits of darkness; of

lying, the deceiver of mankind; of disease, death and sin; of the rigid

cold; the desolating heat; of all odious dirt and vermin, were cursed,

together with their father the malignant Ahriman. At the end all present

joined in singing the festival prayer: "Purity and glory are sown for

them that are pure and upright in heart."

The sacrificial ceremony was concluded with the king's prayer, and then

Cambyses, arrayed in his richest robes, ascended a splendid chariot

drawn by four snow-white Nicoean horses, and studded with topazes,

cornelian and amber, and was conveyed to the great reception-hall, where

the deputies and officers from the provinces awaited him.

As soon as the king and his retinue had departed, the priests selected,

for themselves, the best pieces of the flesh which had been offered in

sacrifice, and allowed the thronging crowd to take the rest.

The Persian divinities disdained sacrifices in the light of food,

requiring only the souls of the slaughtered animals, and many a poor

man, especially among the priests, subsisted on the flesh of the

abundant royal sacrifices.

The prayer offered up by the Magian was a model for those of the Persian

people. No man was allowed to ask anything of the gods for himself

alone. Every pious soul was rather to implore blessings for his nation;

for was not each only a part of the whole? and did not each man share

in the blessings granted to the whole kingdom? But especially they

were commanded to pray for the king, in whom the realm was embodied and

shadowed forth. It was this beautiful surrender of self for the public

weal, that had made the Persians great. The doctrines of the Egyptian

priesthood represented the Pharaohs as actual divinities, while the

Persian monarchs were only called "sons of the gods;" yet the power of

the latter was far more absolute and unfettered than that of the former;

the reason for this being that the Persians had been wise enough to

free themselves from priestly domination, while the Pharaohs, as we have

seen, if not entirely under the dominion of the priestly caste, were yet

under its influence in the most important matters.

The Egyptian intolerance of all strange religions was unknown in Asia.

The conquered Babylonians were allowed by Cyrus to retain their own

gods, after their incorporation in the great Asiatic kingdom. The Jews,

Ionians and inhabitants of Asia Minor, in short, the entire mass of

nations subject to Cambyses remained unmolested in possession of their

hereditary religions and customs.

Beside the great altar, therefore, might be seen many a smaller

sacrificial flame, kindled in honor of their own divinities, by the

envoys from the conquered provinces to this great birthday feast.

Viewed from a distance, the immense city looked like a gigantic furnace.

Thick clouds of smoke hovered over its towers, obscuring the light of

the burning May sun.

By the time the king had reached the palace, the multitude who had come

to take part in the festival had formed themselves into a procession of

interminable length, which wandered on through the straight streets of

Babylon towards the royal palace.

Their road was strewn with myrtle and palm-branches, roses, poppy

and oleander-blossoms, and with leaves of the silver poplar, palm and

laurel; the air perfumed with incense, myrrh, and a thousand other sweet

odors. Carpets and flags waved and fluttered from the houses.

Music too was there; the shrill peal of the Median trumpet, and soft

tone of the Phrygian flute; the Jewish cymbal and harp, Paphlagonian

tambourines and the stringed instruments of Ionia; Syrian kettle-drums

and cymbals, the shells and drums of the Arians from the mouth of the

Indus, and the loud notes of the Bactrian battle-trumpets. But above

all these resounded the rejoicing shouts of the Babylonian multitude,

subjugated by the Persians only a few short years before, and yet, like

all Asiatics, wearing their fetters with an air of gladness so long as

the fear of their tyrant was before their eyes.

The fragrant odors, the blaze of color and sparkling of gold and jewels,

the neighing of the horses, and shouts and songs of human beings, all

united to produce a whole, at once bewildering and intoxicating to the

senses and the feelings.

The messengers had not been sent up to Babylon empty-handed. Beautiful

horses, huge elephants and comical monkeys; rhinoceroses and buffaloes

adorned with housings and tassels; double-humped Bactrian camels with

gold collars on their shaggy necks; waggon-loads of rare woods and

ivory, woven goods of exquisite texture, casks of ingots and gold-dust,

gold and silver vessels, rare plants for the royal gardens, and foreign

animals for the preserves, the most remarkable of which were antelopes,

zebras, and rare monkeys and birds, these last being tethered to a tree

in full leaf and fluttering among the branches. Such were the offerings

sent to the great king of Persia.

They were the tribute of the conquered nations and, after having

been shown to the king, were weighed and tested by treasurers and

secretaries, either declared satisfactory, or found wanting and

returned, in which case the niggardly givers were condemned to bring a

double tribute later.

[At the time of which we are writing, the kings of Persia taxed

their kingdom at whatever time and to whatever extent seemed good in

their own eyes. Cambyses' successor, Darius, was the first to

introduce a regular system of taxation, in consequence of which he

was nicknamed "the shopkeeper." Up to a much later period it still

remained the duty of certain districts to send natural products to

the court Herod. I. 192. Xenoph. Anab. IV. 5.]

The palace-gates were reached without hindrance, the way being kept

clear by lines of soldiers and whipbearers stationed on either side of

the street.

If the royal progress to the place of sacrifice, when five hundred

richly-caprisoned horses had been led behind the king's chariot,

could be called magnificent, and the march of the envoys a brilliant

spectacle, the great throne-room presented a vision of dazzling and

magic beauty.

In the background, raised on six steps, each of which was guarded, as it

were, by two golden clogs, stood the throne of gold; above it, supported

by four golden pillars studded with precious stones, was a purple

canopy, on which appeared two winged discs, the king's Feruer.

[The Feruer or Ferwer is the spiritual part of every man-his soul

and reason. It was in existence before the man was horn, joins him

at his birth and departs at his death. The Ferwer keeps up a war

with the Diws or evil spirits, and is the element of man's

preservation in life. The moment he departs, the body returns to

its original elements. After death he becomes immortal if he has

done well, but if his deeds have been evil he is cast into hell. It

is right to call upon the Ferwer and entreat his help. He will

bring the prayer before God and on this account is represented as a

winged disc.]

Fan-bearers, high in office at the court, stood behind the throne, and,

on either side, those who sat at the king's table, his relations

and friends, and the most important among the officers of state, the

priestly caste and the eunuchs.

The walls and ceiling of the entire hall were covered with plates of

burnished gold, and the floor with purple carpets.

Before the silver gates lay winged bulls, and the king's

body-guard-their dress consisting of a gold cuirass under a purple

overcoat, and the high Persian cap, their swords in golden scabbards

glittering with jewels, and their lances ornamented with gold and silver

apples, were stationed in the court of the palace. Among them the band

of the "Immortals" was easily to be distinguished by their stately forms

and dauntless bearing.

Officers, whose duty consisted in announcing and presenting strangers,

and who carried short ivory staves, led the deputies into the hall, and

up to the throne, where they cast themselves on the ground as though

they would kiss the earth, concealing their hands in the sleeves of

their robes. A cloth was bound over the mouth of every man before he was

allowed to answer the king's questions, lest the pure person of the king

should be polluted by the breath of common men.

Cambyses' severity or mildness towards the deputations with whose chiefs

he spoke, was proportioned to the obedience of their province and

the munificence of their tribute-offerings. Near the end of the train

appeared an embassy from the Jews, led by two grave men with sharply-cut

features and long beards. Cambyses called on them in a friendly tone to

stop.

The first of these men was dressed in the fashion of the Babylonian

aristocracy. The other wore a purple robe woven without seam, trimmed

with bells and tassels, and held in at the waist by a girdle of blue,

red and white. A blue garment was thrown over his shoulders and a little

bag suspended around his neck containing the sacred lots, the Urim and

Thummin, adorned with twelve precious stones set in gold, and bearing

the names of the tribes of Israel. The high-priest's brow was grave and

thoughtful. A white cloth was wound round his head, the ends of which

hung down to the shoulders.

"I rejoice to behold you once more, Belteshazzar," exclaimed the king

to the former of the two men. "Since the death of my father you have not

been seen at my gate."

The man thus addressed bowed humbly and answered: "The favor of the king

rejoices his servant! If it seem good unto thee, to cause the sun of

thy favor to shine on me, thine unworthy servant, so hearken unto my

petition for my nation, which thy great father caused to return unto the

land of their fathers' sepulchres. This old man at my side, Joshua, the

high-priest of our God, hath not feared the long journey to Babylon,

that he might bring his request before thy face. Let his speech be

pleasing in thine ears and his words bring forth fruit in thine heart."

"I foresee what ye desire of me," cried the king. "Am I wrong, priest,

in supposing that your petition refers to the building of the temple in

your native land?"

"Nothing can be hidden from the eyes of my lord," answered the priest,

bowing low. "Thy servants in Jerusalem desire to behold the face of

their ruler, and beseech thee by my mouth to visit the land of their

fathers, and to grant them permission to set forward the work of the

temple, concerning which thine illustrious father (the favor of our God

rest upon him), made a decree."

The king answered with a smile: "You have the craft of your nation, and

understand how to choose the right time and words for your petition. On

my birthday it is difficult for me to refuse my faithful people even

one request. I promise you, therefore, so soon as possible to visit

Jerusalem and the land of your fathers."

"By so doing thou wilt make glad the hearts of thy servants," answered

the priest; "our vines and olives will bear more fruit at thine

approach, our gates will lift up their heads to receive thee, and Israel

rejoice with shouts to meet his lord doubly blessed if as lord of the

building--"

"Enough, priest, enough!" cried Cambyses. "Your first petition, I have

said it, shall not remain unfulfilled; for I have long desired to visit

the wealthy city of Tyre, the golden Sidon, and Jerusalem with its

strange superstitions; but were I to give permission for the building

now, what would remain for me to grant you in the coming year?"

"Thy servants will no more molest thee by their petitions, if thou

grant unto them this one, to finish the temple of the Lord their God,"

answered the priest.

"Strange beings, these men of Palestine!" exclaimed Cambyses. "I have

heard it said that ye believe in one God alone, who can be represented

by no likeness, and is a spirit. Think ye then that this omnipresent

Being requires a house? Verily, your great spirit can be but a weak and

miserable creature, if he need a covering from the wind and rain, and a

shelter from the heat which he himself has created. If your God be like

ours, omnipresent, fall down before him and worship as we do, in every

place, and feel certain that everywhere ye will be heard of him!"

"The God of Israel hears his people in every place," exclaimed the

high-priest. "He heard us when we pined in captivity under the Pharaohs

far from our land; he heard us weeping by the rivers of Babylon. He

chose thy father to be the instrument of our deliverance, and will hear

my prayer this day and soften thine heart like wise. O mighty king,

grant unto thy servants a common place of sacrifice, whither our

twelve tribes may repair, an altar on the steps of which they can

pray together, a house in which to keep their holy feasts! For this

permission we will call down the blessing of God upon thine head and his

curse upon thine enemies."

"Grant unto my brethren the permission to build their temple!" added

Belteshazzar, who was the richest and most honorable and respected of

the Jews yet remaining in Babylon; a man whom Cyrus had treated with

much consideration, and of whom he had even taken counsel from time to

time.

"Will ye then be peaceable, if I grant your petition?" asked the king.

"My father allowed you to begin the work and granted the means for its

completion. Of one mind, happy and content, ye returned to your native

land, but while pursuing your work strife and contention entered among

you. Cyrus was assailed by repeated letters, signed by the chief men of

Syria, entreating him to forbid the work, and I also have been lately

besought to do the same. Worship your God when and where ye will, but

just because I desire your welfare, I cannot consent to the prosecution

of a work which kindles discord among you."

"And is it then thy pleasure on this day to take back a favor, which thy

father made sure unto us by a written decree?" asked Belteshazzar.

"A written decree?"

"Which will surely be found even to this day laid up in the archives of

thy kingdom."

"Find this decree and show it me, and I will not only allow the building

to be continued, but will promote the same," answered the king; "for my

father's will is as sacred to me as the commands of the gods."

"Wilt thou allow search to be made in the house of the rolls at

Ecbatana?" asked Belteshazzar. "The decree will surely be found there."

"I consent, but I fear ye will find none. Tell thy nation, priest, that

I am content with the equipment of the men of war they have sent to take

the field against the Massagetae. My general Megabyzus commends their

looks and bearing. May thy people prove as valiant now as in the wars of

my father! You, Belteshazzar, I bid to my marriage feast, and charge you

to tell your fellows, Meshach and Abednego, next unto you the highest in

the city of Babylon, that I expect them this evening at my table."

"The God of my people Israel grant thee blessing and happiness,"

answered Belteshazzar bowing low before the king.

"A wish which I accept!" answered the king, "for I do not despise

the power of your wonder-working great Spirit. But one word more,

Belteshazzar. Many Jews have lately been punished for reviling the

gods of the Babylonians. Warn your people! They bring down hatred on

themselves by their stiff-necked superstition, and the pride with

which they declare their own great spirit to be the only true God. Take

example by us; we are content with our own faith and leave others to

enjoy theirs in peace. Cease to look upon yourselves as better than the

rest of the world. I wish you well, for a pride founded on self-respect

is pleasing in mine eyes; but take heed lest pride degenerate into

vainglory. Farewell! rest assured of my favor."

The Jews then departed. They were disappointed, but not hopeless; for

Belteshazzar knew well that the decree, relative to the building of the

temple, must be in the archives at Ecbatana.

They were followed by a deputation from Syria, and by the Greeks

of Ionia; and then, winding up the long train, appeared a band of

wild-looking men, dressed in the skins of animals, whose features

bespoke them foreigners in Babylon. They wore girdles and shoulderbands

of solid, unwrought gold; and of the same precious metal were their

bow-cases, axes, lance-points, and the ornaments on their high fur caps.

They were preceded by a man in Persian dress, whose features proved him,

however, to be of the same race as his followers.

The king gazed at first on these envoys with wonder; then his brow

darkened, and beckoning the officer whose duty it was to present

strangers, he exclaimed "What can these men have to crave of me? If I

mistake not they belong to the Massagetae, to that people who are so

soon to tremble before my vengeance. Tell them, Gobryas, that an armed

host is standing on the Median plains ready to answer their demands with

the sword."

Gobryas answered, bowing low: "These men arrived this morning during

the sacrifice bringing huge burdens of the purest gold to purchase your

forbearance. When they heard that a great festival was being celebrated

in your honor, they urgently besought to be admitted into your presence,

that they might declare the message entrusted to them by their country."

The king's brow cleared and, after sharply scrutinizing the tall,

bearded Massageta, he said: "Let them come nearer. I am curious to know

what proposals my father's murderers are about to make me."

Gobryas made a sign, and the tallest and eldest of the Massagetae came

up close to the throne and began to speak loudly in his native tongue.

He was accompanied by the man in a Persian dress, who, as one of Cyrus'

prisoners of war, had learnt the Persian language, and now interpreted

one by one the sentences uttered by the spokesman of this wandering

tribe.

"We know," began the latter, "that thou, great king, art wroth with the

Massagetae because thy father fell in war with our tribe--a war which he

alone had provoked with a people who had done naught to offend him."

"My father was justified in punishing your nation," interrupted the

king. "Your Queen Tomyris had dared to refuse him her hand in marriage."

"Be not wroth, O King," answered the Massagetan, "when I tell thee that

our entire nation approved of that act. Even a child could see that the

great Cyrus only desired to add our queen to the number of his wives,

hoping, in his insatiable thirst for more territories, to gain our land

with her."

Cambyses was silent and the envoy went on. "Cyrus caused a bridge to be

made over our boundary river, the Araxes. We were not dismayed at this,

and Tomyris sent word that he might save himself this trouble, for that

the Massagetae were willing either to await him quietly in their own

land, leaving the passage of the river free, or to meet him in his.

Cyrus decided, by the advice of the dethroned king of Lydia, (as we

learnt afterwards, through some prisoners of war) on meeting us in our

own land and defeating us by a stratagem. With this intention he sent at

first only a small body of troops, which could be easily dispersed and

destroyed by our arrows and lances, and allowed us to seize his camp

without striking a blow. Believing we had defeated this insatiable

conqueror, we feasted on his abundant stores, and, poisoned by the sweet

unknown drink which you call wine, fell into a stupefied slumber, during

which his soldiers fell upon us, murdered the greater number of our

warriors and took many captives. Among the latter was the brave, young

Spargapises, our queen's son.

"Hearing in his captivity, that his mother was willing to conclude

peace with your nation as the price of his liberty, he asked to have his

chains taken off. The request was granted, and on obtaining the use

of his hands he seized a sword and stabbed himself, exclaiming: 'I

sacrifice my life for the freedom of my nation.'"

"No sooner did we hear the news that the young prince we loved so well

had died thus, than we assembled all the forces yet left to us from your

swords and fetters. Even old men and boys flew to arms to revenge our

noble Spargapises, and sacrifice themselves, after his example, for

Massagetaen freedom. Our armies met; ye were worsted and Cyrus fell.

When Tomyris found his body lying in a pool of human blood, she cried:

'Methinks, insatiable conqueror, thou art at last sated with blood!'

The troop, composed of the flower of your nobility, which you call the

Immortals, drove us back and carried your father's dead body forth from

our closest ranks. You led them on, fighting like a lion. I know you

well, and that wound across your manly face, which adorns it like a

purple badge of honor, was made by the sword now hanging at my side."

A movement passed through the listening crowd; they trembled for

the bold speaker's life. Cambyses, however, looked pleased, nodded

approvingly to the man and answered: "Yes, I recognize you too now; you

rode a red horse with golden trappings. You shall see that the Persians

know how to honor courage. Bow down before this man, my friends, for

never did I see a sharper sword nor a more unwearied arm than his; and

such heroic courage deserves honor from the brave, whether shown by

friend or foe. As for you, Massagetae, I would advise you to go home

quickly and prepare for war; the mere recollection of your strength

and courage increases my longing to test it once more. A brave foe, by

Mithras, is far better than a feeble friend. You shall be allowed to

return home in peace; but beware of remaining too long within my reach,

lest the thought of the vengeance I owe my father's soul should rouse my

anger, and your end draw suddenly nigh."

A bitter smile played round the bearded mouth of the warrior as he made

answer to this speech. "The Massagetae deem your father's soul too well

avenged already. The only son of our queen, his people's pride, and in

no way inferior to Cyrus, has bled for him. The shores of the Araxes

have been fertilized by the bodies of fifty thousand of my countrymen,

slain as offerings for your dead king, while only thirty thousand fell

there on your own side. We fought as bravely as you, but your armor is

better able to resist the arrows which pierce our clothing of skins. And

lastly, as the most cruel blow of all, ye slew our queen."

"Tomyris is dead?" exclaimed Cambyses interrupting him. "You mean to

tell me that the Persians have killed a woman? Answer at once, what has

happened to your queen?"

"Tomyris died ten months ago of grief for the loss of her only son, and

I have therefore a right to say that she too fell a sacrifice to the war

with Persia and to your father's spirit."

"She was a great woman," murmured Cambyses, his voice unsteady from

emotion. "Verily, I begin to think that the gods themselves have

undertaken to revenge my father's blood on your nation. Yet I tell you

that, heavy as your losses may seem, Spargapises, Tomyris and fifty

thousand Massagetae can never outweigh the spirit of one king of Persia,

least of all of a Cyrus."

"In our country," answered the envoy, "death makes all men equal. The

spirits of the king and the slave are of equal worth. Your father was a

great man, but we have undergone awful sufferings for his sake. My tale

is not yet ended. After the death of Tomyris discord broke out among the

Massagetae. Two claimants for the crown appeared; half our nation fought

for the one, half for the other, and our hosts were thinned, first by

this fearful civil war and then by the pestilence which followed in its

track. We can no longer resist your power, and therefore come with heavy

loads of pure gold as the price of peace."

"Ye submit then without striking a blow?" asked Cambyses. "Verily, I had

expected something else from such heroes; the numbers of my host, which

waits assembled on the plains of Media, will prove that. We cannot go to

battle without an enemy. I will dismiss my troops and send a satrap. Be

welcome as new subjects of my realm."

The red blood mounted into the cheeks of the Massagetan warrior

on hearing these words, and he answered in a voice trembling with

excitement: "You err, O King, if you imagine that we have lost our old

courage, or learnt to long for slavery. But we know your strength; we

know that the small remnant of our nation, which war and pestilence have

spared, cannot resist your vast and well-armed hosts. This we admit,

freely and honestly as is the manner of the Massagetae, declaring

however at the same time, that we are determined to govern ourselves

as of yore, and will never receive laws or ordinances from a Persian

satrap. You are wroth, but I can bear your angry gaze and yet repeat my

declaration."

"And my answer," cried Cambyses, "is this: Ye have but one choice:

either to submit to my sceptre, become united to the kingdom of Persia

under the name of the Massagetan province, and receive a satrap as my

representative with due reverence, or to look upon yourselves as my

enemies, in which case you will be forced by arms to conform to those

conditions which I now offer you in good part. To-day you could secure

a ruler well-affected to your cause, later you will find in me only a

conqueror and avenger. Consider well before you answer."

"We have already weighed and considered all," answered the warrior,

"and, as free sons of the desert, prefer death to bondage. Hear what the

council of our old men has sent me to declare to you:--The Massageta;

have become too weak to oppose the Persians, not through their own

fault, but through the heavy visitation of our god, the sun. We know

that you have armed a vast host against us, and we are ready to buy

peace and liberty by a yearly tribute. But if you persist in compelling

us to submit by force of arms, you can only bring great damage on

yourselves. The moment your army nears the Araxes, we shall depart

with our wives and children and seek another home, for we have no fixed

dwellings like yours, but are accustomed to rove at will on our swift

horses, and to rest in tents. Our gold we shall take with us, and shall

fill up, destroy, and conceal the pits in which you could find new

treasures. We know every spot where gold is to be found, and can give

it in abundance, if you grant us peace and leave us our liberty; but, if

you venture to invade our territory, you win nothing but an empty

desert and an enemy always beyond your reach,--an enemy who may become

formidable, when he has had time to recover from the heavy losses which

have thinned his ranks. Leave us in peace and freedom and we are ready

to give every year five thousand swift horses of the desert, besides

the yearly tribute of gold; we will also come to the help of the Persian

nation when threatened by any serious danger."

The envoy ceased speaking. Cambyses did not answer at once; his eyes

were fixed on the ground in deep thought. At last he said, rising at the

same time from his throne: "We will take counsel on this matter over the

wine to-night, and to-morrow you shall hear what answer you can bring

to your people. Gobryas, see that these men are well cared for, and send

the Massagetan, who wounded me in battle, a portion of the best dishes

from my own table."

CHAPTER XV.

During these events Nitetis had been sitting alone in her house on the

hanging-gardens, absorbed in the saddest thoughts. To-day, for the first

time, she had taken part in the general sacrifice made by the king's

wives, and had tried to pray to her new gods in the open air, before the

fire-altars and amidst the sound of religious songs strange to her ears.

Most of the inhabitants of the harem saw her to-day for the first time,

and instead of raising their eyes to heaven, had fixed them on her

during the ceremony. The inquisitive, malevolent gaze of her rivals, and

the loud music resounding from the city, disquieted and distracted her

mind. Her thoughts reverted painfully to the solemn, sultry stillness

of the gigantic temples in her native land where she had worshipped the

gods of her childhood so earnestly at the side of her mother and sister;

and much as she longed, just on this day, to pray for blessings on

her beloved king, all her efforts were in vain; she could arouse no

devotional feeling. Kassandane and Atossa knelt at her side, joining

heartily in the very hymns which to Nitetis were an empty sound.

It cannot be denied, that many parts of these hymns contain true poetry;

but they become wearisome through the constant repetition and invocation

of the names of good and bad spirits. The Persian women had been taught

from childhood, to look upon these religious songs as higher and holier

than any other poetry. Their earliest prayers had been accompanied by

such hymns, and, like everything else which has come down to us from

our fathers, and which we have been told in the impressionable time of

childhood is divine and worthy of our reverence, they were still sacred

and dear to them and stirred their most devotional feelings.

But for Nitetis, who had been spoilt for such things by an intimate

acquaintance with the best Greek poets, they could have but little

charm. What she had lately been learning in Persia with difficulty had

not yet become a part of herself, and so, while Kassandane and Atossa

went through all the outward rites as things of course and perfectly

natural to them, Nitetis could only prevent herself from forgetting the

prescribed ceremonials by a great mental effort, and dreaded lest she

should expose her ignorance to the jealous, watchful gaze of her rivals.

And then, too, only a few minutes before the sacrifice, she had received

her first letter from Egypt. It lay unread on her dressing-table, and

came into her mind whenever she attempted to pray. She could not help

wondering what news it might bring her. How were her parents? and how

had Tachot borne the parting from herself, and from the prince she loved

so well?

The ceremony over, Nitetis embraced Kassandane and Atossa, and drew a

long, deep breath, as if delivered from some threatening danger. Then

ordering her litter, she was carried back to her dwelling, and hastened

eagerly to the table where her letter lay. Her principal attendant,

the young girl who on the journey had dressed her in her first Persian

robes, received her with a smile full of meaning and promise, which

changed however, into a look of astonishment, on seeing her mistress

seize the letter, without even glancing at the articles of dress and

jewelery which lay on the table.

Nitetis broke the seal quickly and was sitting down, in order to begin

the difficult work of reading her letter, when the girl came up, and

with clasped hands, exclaimed: "By Mithras, my mistress, I cannot

understand you. Either you are ill, or that ugly bit of grey stuff must

contain some magic which makes you blind to everything else. Put

that roll away and look at the splendid presents that the great king

(Auramazda grant him victory!) has sent while you were at the sacrifice.

Look at this wonderful purple robe with the white stripe and the rich

silver embroidery; and then the tiara with the royal diamonds! Do not

you know the high meaning of these gifts? Cambyses begs, (the messenger

said 'begs,' not 'commands') you to wear these splendid ornaments at

the banquet to-day. How angry Phaedime will be! and how the others

will look, for they have never received such presents. Till now only

Kassandane has had a right to wear the purple and diamonds; so by

sending you these gifts, Cambyses places you on a level with his mother,

and chooses you to be his favorite wife before the whole world.' O pray

allow me to dress you in these new and beautiful things. How lovely you

will look! How angry and envious the others will feel! If I could only

be there when you enter the hall! Come, my mistress, let me take off

your simple dress, and array you, (only as a trial you know,) in the

robes that as the new queen you ought to wear."

Nitetis listened in silence to the chattering girl, and admired the

gifts with a quiet smile. She was woman enough to rejoice at the sight,

for he, whom she loved better than life itself, had sent them; and

they were a proof that she was more to the king than all his other

wives;--that Cambyses really loved her. The long wished-for letter fell

unread to the ground, the girl's wish to dress her was granted without a

word, and in a short time the splendid toilette was completed. The royal

purple added to her beauty, the high flashing tiara made her slender,

perfect figure seem taller than it really was, and when, in the metal

mirror which lay on her dressing table, she beheld herself for the first

time in the glorious likeness of a queen, a new expression dawned on her

features. It seemed as if a portion of her lord's pride were reflected

there. The frivolous waiting-woman sank involuntarily on her knees,

as her eyes, full of smiling admiration, met the radiant glance of

Nitetis,--of the woman who was beloved by the most powerful of men.

For a few moments Nitetis gazed on the girl, lying in the dust at her

feet; but soon shook her beautiful head, and blushing for shame, raised

her kindly, kissed her forehead, gave her a gold bracelet, and then,

perceiving her letter on the ground, told her she wished to be alone.

Mandane ran, rather than walked, out of the room in her eagerness

to show the splendid present she had just received to the inferior

attendants and slaves; and Nitetis, her eyes glistening and her heart

beating with excess of happiness, threw herself on to the ivory chair

which stood before her dressing-table, uttered a short prayer of

thanksgiving to her favorite Egyptian goddess, the beautiful Hathor,

kissed the gold chain which Cambyses had given her after plunging into

the water for her ball, then her letter from home, and rendered almost

over-confident by her great happiness, began to unroll it, slowly

sinking back into the purple cushions as she did so and murmuring: "How

very, very happy I am! Poor letter, I am sure your writer never thought

Nitetis would leave you a quarter of an hour on the ground unread."

In this happy mood she began to read, but her face soon grew serious and

when she had finished, the letter fell once more to the ground.

Her eyes, whose proud glance had brought the waiting-maid to her feet,

were dimmed by tears; her head, carried so proudly but a few minutes

before, now lay on the jewels which covered the table. Tears rolled down

among the pearls and diamonds, as strange a contrast as the proud tiara

and its unhappy, fainting wearer.

The letter read as follows:

"Ladice the wife of Amasis and Queen of Upper and Lower Egypt, to her

daughter Nitetis, consort of the great King of Persia.

"It has not been our fault, my beloved daughter, that you have remained

so long without news from home. The trireme by which we sent our letters

for you to AEgae was detained by Samian ships of war, or rather pirate

vessels, and towed into the harbor of Astypalaea.

"Polykrates' presumption increases with the continual success of his

undertakings, and since his victory over the Lesbians and Milesians, who

endeavored to put a stop to his depredations, not a ship is safe from

the attacks of his pirate vessels.

"Pisistratus is dead," but his sons are friendly to Polykrates. Lygdamis

is under obligations to him, and cannot hold his own in Naxos without

Samian help. He has won over the Amphiktyonic council to his side by

presenting the Apollo of Delos with the neighboring island of Rhenea.

His fifty-oared vessels, requiring to be manned by twenty-thousand men,

do immense damage to all the seafaring nations; yet not one dares to

attack him, as the fortifications of his citadel and his splendid

harbor are almost impregnable, and he himself always surrounded by a

well-drilled body-guard.

"Through the traders, who followed the fortunate Kolxus to the far west,

and these pirate ships, Samos will become the richest of islands and

Polykrates the most powerful of men, unless, as your father says, the

gods become envious of such unchanging good fortune and prepare him a

sudden and speedy downfall.

"In this fear Amasis advised Polykrates as his old friend, to put away

from him the thing he held dearest, and in such a manner that he might

be sure of never receiving it again. Polykrates adopted this advice and

threw into the sea, from the top of the round tower on his citadel,

his most valuable signet-ring, an unusually large sardonyx held by two

dolphins. This ring was the work of Theodorus, and a lyre, the symbol of

the ruler, was exquisitely engraved on the stone."

"Six days later, however, the ring was found by Polykrates' cooks in the

body of a fish. He sent us news at once of this strange occurrence, but

instead of rejoicing your father shook his grey head sadly, saying: 'he

saw now it was impossible for any one to avoid his destiny!' On the same

day he renounced the friendship of Polykrates and wrote him word, that

he should endeavor to forget him in order to avoid the grief of seeing

his friend in misfortune.

"Polykrates laughed at this message and returned the letters his pirates

had taken from our trireme, with a derisive greeting. For the future all

your letters will be sent by Syria.

"You will ask me perhaps, why I have told you this long story, which

has so much less interest for you than any other home news. I answer:

to prepare you for your father's state. Would you have recognized the

cheerful, happy, careless Amasis in that gloomy answer to his Samian

friend?

"Alas, my husband has good reason to be sad, and since you left us, my

own eyes have seldom been free from tears. My time is passed either at

the sick-bed of your sister or in comforting your father and guiding

his steps; and though much in need of sleep I am now taking advantage of

night to write these lines.

"Here I was interrupted by the nurses, calling me to your sister Tachot,

your own true friend.

"How often the dear child has called you in her feverish delirium;

and how carefully she treasures your likeness in wax, that wonderful

portrait which bears evidence not only of the height to which Greek art

has risen, but of the master hand of the great Theodorus. To-morrow it

will be sent to AEgina, to be copied in gold, as the soft wax becomes

injured from frequent contact with your sister's burning hands and lips.

"And now, my daughter, you must summon all your courage to hear what I

need all my strength of mind to tell-the sad story of the fate which the

gods have decreed for our house.

"For three days after you left us Tachot wept incessantly. Neither our

comforting words nor your father's good advice--neither offerings nor

prayers--could avail to lessen her grief or divert her mind. At last on

the fourth day she ceased to weep and would answer our questions in

a low voice, as if resigned; but spent the greater part of every day

sitting silently at her wheel. Her fingers, however, which used to be so

skilful, either broke the threads they tried to spin, or lay for hours

idle in her lap, while she was lost in dreams. Your father's jokes, at

which she used to laugh so heartily, made no impression on her, and when

I endeavored to reason with her she listened in anxious suspense.

"If I kissed her forehead and begged her to control herself, she would

spring up, blushing deeply, and throw herself into my arms, then sit

down again to her wheel and begin to pull at the threads with almost

frantic eagerness; but in half an hour her hands would be lying idle in

her lap again and her eyes dreamily fixed, either on the ground, or

on some spot in the air. If we forced her to take part in any

entertainment, she would wander among the guests totally uninterested in

everything that was passing.

"We took her with us on the great pilgrimage to Bubastis, during which

the Egyptians forget their usual gravity, and the shores of the Nile

look like a great stage where the wild games of the satyrs are being

performed by choruses, hurried on in the unrestrained wantonness of

intoxication. When she saw thus for the first time an entire people

given up to the wildest and most unfettered mirth and enjoyment, she

woke up from her silent brooding thoughts and began to weep again, as in

the first days after you went away.

"Sad and perplexed, we brought our poor child back to Sais.

"Her looks were not those of a common mortal. She grew thinner, and we

all fancied, taller; her complexion was white, and almost transparent,

with a tender bloom on her cheek, which I can only liken to a young

rose-leaf or the first faint blush of sunrise. Her eyes are still

wonderfully clear and bright. It always seems to me as if they looked

beyond the heaven and earth which we see.

"As she continued to suffer more and more from heat in the head and

hands, while her tender limbs often shivered with a slight chill, we

sent to Thebes for Thutmes, the most celebrated physician for inward

complaints.

"The experienced priest shook his head on seeing your sister and

foretold a serious illness. He forbade her to spin or to speak much.

Potions of all kinds were given her to drink, her illness was discussed

and exorcised, the stars and oracles consulted, rich presents and

sacrifices made to the gods. The priest of Hathor from the island of

Philae sent us a consecrated amulet, the priest of Osiris in Abydos

a lock of hair from the god himself set in gold, and Neithotep, the

high-priest of our own guardian goddess, set on foot a great sacrifice,

which was to restore your sister to health.

"But neither physicians nor charms were of any avail, and at last

Neithotep confessed that Tachot's stars gave but little ground for hope.

Just then, too, the sacred bull at Memphis died and the priests

could discover no heart in his entrails, which they interpreted as

prognosticating evil to our country. They have not yet succeeded in

finding a new Apis, and believe that the gods are wroth with your

father's kingdom. Indeed the oracle of Buto has declared that the

Immortals will show no favor to Egypt, until all the temples that have

been built in the black land for the worship of false gods are destroyed

and their worshippers banished.

[Egypt was called by its ancient inhabitants Cham, the black,

or black-earthed.]

"These evil omens have proved, alas, only too true. Tachot fell ill of

a dreadful fever and lay for nine days hovering between life and death;

she is still so weak that she must be carried, and can move neither hand

nor foot.

"During the journey to Bubastis, Amasis' eyes, as so often happens here,

became inflamed. Instead of sparing them, he continued to work as usual

from sunrise until mid-day, and while your sister was so ill he never

left her bed, notwithstanding all our entreaties. But I will not enter

into particulars, my child. His eyes grew worse, and on the very day

which brought us the news of your safe arrival in Babylon, Amasis became

totally blind.

"The cheerful, active man has become old, gloomy and decrepit since that

day. The death of Apis, and the unfavorable constellations and oracles

weigh on his mind; his happy temper is clouded by the unbroken night in

which he lives; and the consciousness that he cannot stir a step alone

causes indecision and uncertainty. The daring and independent ruler will

soon become a mere tool, by means of which the priests can work their

will.

"He spends hours in the temple of Neith, praying and offering

sacrifices; a number of workmen are employed there in building a tomb

for his mummy, and the same number at Memphis in levelling the temple

which the Greeks have begun building to Apollo. He speaks of his own and

Tachot's misfortunes as a just punishment from the Immortals.

"His visits to Tachot's sick-bed are not the least comfort to her, for

instead of encouraging her kindly, he endeavors to convince her that

she too deserves punishment from the gods. He spends all his remarkable

eloquence in trying to persuade her, that she must forget this world

entirely and only try to gain the favor of Osiris and the judges of the

nether world by ceaseless prayers and sacrifices. In this manner he only

tortures our poor sick child, for she has not lost her love of life.

Perhaps I have still too much of the Greek left in me for a queen of

Egypt; but really, death is so long and life so short, that I cannot

help calling even wise men foolish, when they devote the half of even

this short term to a perpetual meditation on the gloomy Hades.

"I have just been interrupted again. Our great physician, Thutmes,

came to enquire after his patient. He gives very little hope, and seems

surprised that her delicate frame has been able to resist death so long.

He said yesterday: 'She would have sunk long ago if not kept up by her

determined will, and a longing which gives her no rest. If she ceased

to care for life, she could allow death to take her, just as we dream

ourselves asleep. If, on the other hand, her wish could be gratified,

she might, (though this is hardly probable) live some years yet, but if

it remain but a short time longer unfulfilled, it will certainly wear

her to death.

"Have you any idea for whom she longs so eagerly? Our Tachot has allowed

herself to be fascinated by the beautiful Bartja, the brother of your

future husband. I do not mean to say by this that he has employed magic,

as the priest Ameneman believes, to gain her love; for a youth might be

far less handsome and agreeable than Bartja, and yet take the heart of

an innocent girl, still half a child. But her passionate feeling is so

strong, and the change in her whole being so great, that sometimes I too

am tempted to believe in the use of supernatural influence. A short time

before you left I noticed that Tachot was fond of Bartja. Her distress

at first we thought could only be for you, but when she sank into that

dreamy state, Ibykus, who was still at our court, said she must have

been seized by some strong passion.

"Once when she was sitting dreaming at her wheel, I heard him singing

softly Sappho's little love-song to her:

"I cannot, my sweet mother,

Throw shuttle any more;

My heart is full of longing,

My spirit troubled sore,

All for a love of yesterday

A boy not seen before."

[Sappho ed. Neue XXXII. Translation from Edwin Arnold's

Poets of Greece.]

"She turned pale and asked him: 'Is that your own song?'

"'No,' said he, 'Sappho wrote it fifty years ago.'

"'Fifty years ago,' echoed Tachot musingly.

"'Love is always the same,' interrupted the poet; 'women loved centuries

ago, and will love thousands of years to come, just as Sappho loved

fifty years back.'

"The sick girl smiled in assent, and from that time I often heard

her humming the little song as she sat at her wheel. But we carefully

avoided every question, that could remind her of him she loved. In the

delirium of fever, however, Bartja's name was always on her burning

lips. When she recovered consciousness we told her what she had said in

her delirium; then she opened her heart to me, and raising her eyes to

heaven like a prophetess, exclaimed solemnly: 'I know, that I shall not

die till I have seen him again.'

"A short time ago we had her carried into the temple, as she longed to

worship there again. When the service was over and we were crossing

the temple-court, we passed some children at play, and Tachot noticed a

little girl telling something very eagerly to her companions. She told

the bearers to put down the litter and call the child to her.

"'What were you saying?' she asked the little one.

"I was telling the others something about my eldest sister.'

"'May I hear it too?'" said Tachot so kindly, that the little girl began

at once without fear: "Batau, who is betrothed to my sister, came back

from Thebes quite unexpectedly yesterday evening. Just as the Isis-star

was rising, he came suddenly on to our roof where Kerimama was playing

at draughts with my father; and he brought her such a beautiful golden

bridal wreath."

[Among the Egyptians the planet Venus bore the name of the goddess

Isis. Pliny II. 6. Arist De mundo II. 7. Early monuments prove

that they were acquainted with the identity of the morning and

evening star. Lepsius, Chronologie p. 94.]

"Tachot kissed the child and gave her her own costly fan. When we were

at home again she smiled archly at me and said: 'You know, mother dear,

that the words children say in the temple-courts are believed to be

oracles.' So, if the little one spoke the truth, he must come; and did

not you hear that he is to bring the bridal-wreath? O mother, I am sure,

quite sure, that I shall see him again.'

"I asked her yesterday if she had any message for you, and she begged me

to say that she sent you thousands of kisses, and messages of love, and

that when she was stronger she meant to write, as she had a great deal

to tell you. She has just brought me the little note which I enclose; it

is for you alone, and has cost her much fatigue to write.

"But now I must finish my letter, as the messenger has been waiting for

it some time.

"I wish I could give you some joyful news, but sadness and sorrow

meet me whichever way I turn. Your brother yields more and more to the

priests' tyranny, and manages the affairs of state for your poor blind

father under Neithotep's guidance.

"Amasis does not interfere, and says it matters little whether his place

be filled a few days sooner or later by his successor.

"He did not attempt to prevent Psamtik from seizing the children of

Phanes in Rhodopis' house, and actually allowed his son to enter into a

negotiation with the descendants of those two hundred thousand soldiers,

who emigrated to Ethiopia in the reign of Psamtik I. on account of

the preference shown to the Greek mercenaries. In case they declared

themselves willing to return to their native land, the Greek mercenaries

were to have been dismissed. The negotiation failed entirely, but

Psamtik's treatment of the children of Phanes has given bitter offence

to the Greeks. Aristomachus threatened to leave Egypt, taking with him

ten thousand of his best troops, and on hearing that Phanes' son had

been murdered at Psamtik's command applied for his discharge. From that

time the Spartan disappeared, no one knows whither; but the Greek troops

allowed themselves to be bribed by immense sums and are still in Egypt.

"Amasis said nothing to all this, and looked on silently from the midst

of his prayers and sacrifices, while your brother was either offending

every class of his subjects or attempting to pacify them by means

beneath the dignity of a ruler. The commanders of the Egyptian and Greek

troops, and the governors of different provinces have all alike assured

me that the present state of things is intolerable. No one knows what to

expect from this new ruler; he commands today the very thing, which he

angrily forbade the day before. Such a government must soon snap the

beautiful bond, which has hitherto united the Egyptian people to their

king.

"Farewell, my child, think of your poor friend, your mother; and forgive

your parents when you hear what they have so long kept secret from you.

Pray for Tachot, and remember us to Croesus and the young Persians whom

we know. Give a special message too from Tachot to Bartja; I beg him to

think of it as the last legacy of one very near death. If you could only

send her some proof, that he has not forgotten her! Farewell, once more

farewell and be happy in your new and blooming home."

CHAPTER XVI.

Sad realities follow bright anticipations nearly as surely as a rainy

day succeeds a golden sunrise. Nitetis had been so happy in the thought

of reading the very letter, which poured such bitter drops of wormwood

into her cup of happiness.

One beautiful element in her life, the remembrance of her dear home and

the companions of her happy childhood, had been destroyed in one moment,

as if by the touch of a magician's wand.

She sat there in her royal purple, weeping, forgetful of everything but

her mother's grief, her father's misfortunes and her sister's illness.

The joyful future, full of love, joy, and happiness, which had been

beckoning her forward only a few minutes before, had vanished. Cambyses'

chosen bride forgot her waiting, longing lover, and the future queen of

Persia could think of nothing but the sorrows of Egypt's royal house.

It was long past mid-day, when the attendant Mandane came to put a last

touch to Nitetis' dress and ornaments.

"She is asleep," thought the girl. "I can let her rest another quarter

of an hour; the sacrifice this morning has tired her, and we must have

her fresh and beautiful for the evening banquet; then she will outshine

the others as the moon does the stars."

Unnoticed by her mistress she slipped out of the room, the windows of

which commanded a splendid view over the hanging-gardens, the immense

city beneath, the river, and the rich and fruitful Babylonian plain, and

went into the garden.

Without looking round she ran to a flower-bed, to pluck some roses. Her

eyes were fixed on her new bracelet, the stones of which sparkled in the

sun, and she did not notice a richly-dressed man peering in at one of

the windows of the room where Nitetis lay weeping. On being disturbed

in his watching and listening, he turned at once to the girl and greeted

her in a high treble voice.

She started, and on recognizing the eunuch Boges, answered: "It is not

polite, sir, to frighten a poor girl in this way. By Mithras, if I had

seen you before I heard you, I think I should have fainted. A woman's

voice does not take me by surprise, but to see a man here is as rare as

to find a swan in the desert."

Boges laughed good-humoredly, though he well understood her saucy

allusion to his high voice, and answered, rubbing his fat hands: "Yes,

it is very hard for a young and pretty bird like you, to have to live

in such a lonely corner, but be patient, sweetheart. Your mistress will

soon be queen, and then she will look out a handsome young husband for

you. Ah, ha! you will find it pleasanter to live here alone with him,

than with your beautiful Egyptian."

"My mistress is too beautiful for some people's fancy, and I have never

asked any one to look out a husband for me," she answered pertly. "I can

find one without your help either."

"Who could doubt it? Such a pretty face is as good a bait for a man, as

a worm for a fish."

"But I am not trying to catch a husband, and least of all one like you."

"That I can easily believe," he answered laughing. "But tell me, my

treasure, why are you so hard on me? Have I done anything to vex you?

Wasn't it through me, that you obtained this good appointment, and are

not we both Medes?"

"You might just as well say that we are both human beings, and have five

fingers on each hand and a nose in the middle of our faces. Half

the people here are Medes, and if I had as many friends as I have

countrymen, I might be queen to-morrow. And as to my situation here,

it was not you, but the high-priest Oropastes who recommended me to the

great queen Kassandane. Your will is not law here."

"What are you talking about, my sweet one? don't you know, that not a

single waiting-woman can be engaged without my consent?"

"Oh, yes, I know that as well as you do, but..."

"But you women are an unthankful race, and don't deserve our kindness."

"Please not to forget, that you are speaking to a girl of good family."

"I know that very well, my little one. I know that your father was a

Magian and your mother a Magian's daughter; that they both died early

and you were placed under the care of the Destur Ixabates, the father of

Oropastes, and grew up with his children. I know too that when you had

received the ear-rings, Oropastes' brother Gaumata, (you need not blush,

Gaumata is a pretty name) fell in love with your rosy face, and wanted

to marry you, though he was only nineteen. Gaumata and Mandane, how well

the two names sound together! Mandane and Gaumata! If I were a poet I

should call my hero Gaumata and his lady-love Mandane."

"I insist on your ceasing to jest in this way," cried Mandane, blushing

deeply and stamping her foot.

"What, are you angry because I say the names sound well together? You

ought rather to be angry with the proud Oropastes, who sent his younger

brother to Rhagar and you to the court, that you might forget one

another."

"That is a slander on my benefactor."

"Let my tongue wither away, if I am not speaking the truth and nothing

but the truth! Oropastes separated you and his brother because he had

higher intentions for the handsome Gaumata, than a marriage with the

orphan daughter of an inferior Magian. He would have been satisfied with

Amytis or Menische for a sister-in-law, but a poor girl like you, who

owed everything to his bounty, would only have stood in the way of his

ambitious plans. Between ourselves, he would like to be appointed

regent of Persia while the king is away at the Massagetan war, and would

therefore give a great deal to connect himself by marriage in some

way or other with the Archemenidae. At his age a new wife is not to be

thought of; but his brother is young and handsome, indeed people go so

far as to say, that he is like the Prince Bartja."

"That is true," exclaimed the girl. "Only think, when we went out to

meet my mistress, and I saw Bartja for the first time from the window

of the station-house, I thought he was Gaumata. They are so like one

another that they might be twins, and they are the handsomest men in the

kingdom."

"How you are blushing, my pretty rose-bud! But the likeness between them

is not quite so great as all that. When I spoke to the high-priest's

brother this morning..."

"Gaumata is here?" interrupted the girl passionately. "Have you really

seen him or are you trying to draw me out and make fun of me?"

"By Mithras! my sweet one, I kissed his forehead this very morning,

and he made me tell him a great deal about his darling. Indeed his blue

eyes, his golden curls and his lovely complexion, like the bloom on

a peach, were so irresistible that I felt inclined to try and

work impossibilities for him. Spare your blushes, my little

pomegranate-blossom, till I have told you all; and then perhaps in

future you will not be so hard upon poor Boges; you will see that he

has a good heart, full of kindness for his beautiful, saucy little

countrywoman."

"I do not trust you," she answered, interrupting these assurances. "I

have been warned against your smooth tongue, and I do not know what I

have done to deserve this kind interest."

"Do you know this?" he asked, showing her a white ribbon embroidered all

over with little golden flames.

"It is the last present I worked for him," exclaimed Mandane.

"I asked him for this token, because I knew you would not trust me. Who

ever heard of a prisoner loving his jailer?"

"But tell me at once, quickly--what does my old playfellow want me to

do? Look, the-western sky is beginning to glow. Evening is coming on,

and I must arrange my mistress's dress and ornaments for the banquet."

"Well, I will not keep you long," said the eunuch, becoming so serious

that Mandane was frightened. "If you do not choose to believe that I

would run into any risk out of friendship to you, then fancy that I

forward your love affair to humble the pride of Oropastes. He threatens

to supplant me in the king's favor, and I am determined, let him plot

and intrigue as he likes, that you shall marry Gaumata. To-morrow

evening, after the Tistar-star has risen, your lover shall come to

see you. I will see that all the guards are away, so that he can come

without danger, stay one hour and talk over the future with you; but

remember, only one hour. I see clearly that your mistress will be

Cambyses' favorite wife, and will then forward your marriage, for she

is very fond of you, and thinks no praise too high for your fidelity

and skill. So to-morrow evening," he continued, falling back into the

jesting tone peculiar to him, "when the Tistar-star rises, fortune

will begin to shine on you. Why do you look down? Why don't you answer?

Gratitude stops your pretty little mouth, eh? is that the reason? Well,

my little bird, I hope you won't be quite so silent, if you should ever

have a chance of praising poor Boges to your powerful mistress. And what

message shall I bring to the handsome Gaumata? May I say that you have

not forgotten him and will be delighted to see him again? You hesitate?

Well, I am very sorry, but it is getting dark and I must go. I have to

inspect the women's dresses for the birthday banquet. Ah! one thing I

forgot to mention. Gaumata must leave Babylon to-morrow. Oropastes is

afraid, that he may chance to see you, and told him to return to Rhage

directly the festival was over. What! still silent? Well then, I really

cannot help you or that poor fellow either. But I shall gain my ends

quite as well without you, and perhaps after all it is better that you

should forget one another. Good-bye."

It was a hard struggle for the girl. She felt nearly sure that Boges was

deceiving her, and a voice within warned her that it would be better to

refuse her lover this meeting. Duty and prudence gained the upper hand,

and she was just going to exclaim: "Tell him I cannot see him," when

her eye caught the ribbon she had once embroidered for her handsome

playfellow. Bright pictures from her childhood flashed through her mind,

short moments of intoxicating happiness; love, recklessness and longing

gained the day in their turn over her sense of right, her misgivings

and her prudence, and before Boges could finish his farewell, she called

out, almost in spite of herself and flying towards the house like a

frightened fawn: "I shall expect him."

Boges passed quickly through the flowery paths of the hanging-gardens.

He stopped at the parapet end cautiously opened a hidden trap-door,

admitting to a secret staircase which wound down through one of the

huge pillars supporting the hanging-gardens, and which had probably been

intended by their original designer as a means of reaching his wife's

apartments unobserved from the shores of the river. The door moved

easily on its hinges, and when Boges had shut it again and strewed a few

of the river-shells from the garden walks over it, it would have been

difficult to find, even for any one who had come with that purpose. The

eunuch rubbed his jeweled hands, smiling the while as was his custom,

and murmured: "It can't fail to succeed now; the girl is caught, her

lover is at my beck and call, the old secret flight of steps is in

good order, Nitetis has been weeping bitterly on a day of universal

rejoicing, and the blue lily opens to-morrow night. Ah, ha! my little

plan can't possibly fail now. And to-morrow, my pretty Egyptian kitten,

your little velvet paw will be fast in a trap set by the poor despised

eunuch, who was not allowed, forsooth, to give you any orders."

His eyes gleamed maliciously as he said these words and hurried from the

garden.

At the great flight of steps he met another eunuch, named Neriglissar,

who held the office of head-gardener, and lived at the hanging-gardens.

"How is the blue lily going on?" asked Boges.

"It is unfolding magnificently!" cried the gardener, in enthusiasm at

the mere mention of his cherished flower. "To-morrow, as I promised,

when the Tistar-star rises, it will be in all its beauty. My Egyptian

mistress will be delighted, for she is very fond of flowers, and may I

ask you to tell the king and the Achaemenidae, that under my care this

rare plant has at last flowered? It is to be seen in full beauty only

once in every ten years. Tell the noble Achaemenidae; this, and bring

them here."

"Your wish shall be granted," said Boges smiling, "but I think you

must not reckon on the king, as I do not expect he will visit the

hanging-gardens before his marriage with the Egyptian. Some of the

Archimenidae, however, will be sure to come; they are such lovers of

horticulture that they would not like to miss this rare sight. Perhaps,

too, I may succeed in bringing Croesus. It is true that he does not

understand flowers or doat on them as the Persians do, but he makes

amends for this by his thorough appreciation of everything beautiful."

"Yes, yes, bring him too," exclaimed the gardener. "He will really be

grateful to you, for my queen of the night is the most beautiful flower,

that has ever bloomed in a royal garden. You saw the bud in the clear

waters of the reservoir surrounded by its green leaves; that bud will

open into a gigantic rose, blue as the sky. My flower..."

The enthusiastic gardener would have said much more in praise of his

flower, but Boges left him with a friendly nod, and went down the flight

of steps. A two-wheeled wooden carriage was waiting for him there;

he took his seat by the driver, the horses, decked out with bells and

tassels, were urged into a sharp trot and quickly brought him to the

gate of the harem-garden.

That day was a busy, stirring one in Cambyses' harem. In order that the

women might look their very best, Boges had commanded that they should

all be taken to the bath before the banquet. He therefore went at once

to that wing of the palace, which contained the baths for the women.

While he was still at some distance a confused noise of screaming,

laughing, chattering and tittering reached his ears. In the broad porch

of the large bathing-room, which had been almost overheated, more than

three hundred women were moving about in a dense cloud of steam.

[We read in Diodorus XVII. 77. that the king of Persia had as many

wives as there are days in the year. At the battle of Issus,

Alexander the Great took 329 concubines, of the last Darius,

captive.]

The half-naked forms floated over the warm pavement like a motley crowd

of phantoms. Their thin silken garments were wet through and clung to

their delicate figures, and a warm rain descended upon them from the

roof of the bath, rising up again in vapor when it reached the floor.

Groups of handsome women, ten or twenty together, lay gossiping saucily

in one part of the room; in another two king's wives were quarrelling

like naughty children. One beauty was screaming at the top of her

voice because she had received a blow from her neighbor's dainty little

slipper, while another was lying in lazy contemplation, still as death,

on the damp, warm floor. Six Armenians were standing together, singing a

saucy love-song in their native language with clear-toned voices, and

a little knot of fair-haired Persians were slandering Nitetis so

fearfully, that a by-stander would have fancied our beautiful Egyptian

was some awful monster, like those nurses used to frighten children.

Naked female slaves moved about through the crowd, carrying on their

heads well-warmed cloths to throw over their mistresses. The cries of

the eunuchs, who held the office of door-keepers, and were continually

urging the women to greater haste,--the screeching calls of those whose

slaves had not yet arrived,--the penetrating perfumes and the warm vapor

combined to produce a motley, strange and stupefying scene.

A quarter of an hour later, however, the king's wives presented a very

different spectacle.

They lay like roses steeped in dew, not asleep, but quite still and

dreaming, on soft cushions placed along the walls of an immense room.

The wet perfumes still lay on their undried and flowing hair, and nimble

female slaves were busied in carefully wiping away, with little bags

made of soft camels' hair, the slightest outward trace of the moisture

which penetrated deep into the pores of the skin.

Silken coverlets were spread over their weary, beautiful limbs, and a

troop of eunuchs took good care that the dreamy repose of the entire

body should not be disturbed by quarrelsome or petulant individuals.

Their efforts, however, were seldom so successful as to-day, when every

one knew that a disturbance of the peace would be punished by exclusion

from the banquet. They had probably been lying a full hour in

this dreamy silence, when the sound of a gong produced another

transformation.

The reposing figures sprang from their cushions, a troop of female

slaves pressed into the hall, the beauties were annointed and perfumed,

their luxuriant hair ingeniously braided, plaited, and adorned with

precious stones. Costly ornaments and silken and woolen robes in all the

colors of the rainbow were brought in, shoes stiff with rich embroidery

of pearls and jewels were tied on to their tender feet, and golden

girdles fastened round their waists.

[Some kings gave their wives the revenues of entire cities as

"girdle-money" (pin-money).]

By the time Boges came in, the greater number of the women were already

fully adorned in their costly jewelry, which would have represented

probably, when taken together, the riches of a large kingdom.

He was greeted by a shrill cry of joy from many voices. Twenty of the

women joined hands and danced round their smiling keeper, singing

a simple song which had been composed in the harem in praise of his

virtues. On this day it was customary for the king to grant each of his

wives one reasonable petition. So when the ring of dancers had loosed

hands, a troop of petitioners rushed in upon Boges, kissing his hands,

stroking his cheeks, whispering in his ear all kinds of requests, and

trying by flattery to gain his intercession with the king. The woman's

tyrant smiled at it all, stopped his ears and pushed them all back

with jests and laughter, promising Amytis the Median that Esther the

Phoenician should be punished, and Esther the same of Amytis,--that

Parmys should have a handsomer set of jewels than Parisatys, and

Parisatys a more costly one than Parmys, but finding it impossible

to get rid of these importunate petitioners, he blew a little golden

whistle. Its shrill tones acted like magic on the eager crowd; the

raised hands fell in a moment, the little tripping feet stood still, the

opening lips closed and the eager tumult was turned into a dead silence.

Whoever disobeyed the sound of this little whistle, was certain of

punishment. It was as important as the words "Silence, in the king's

name!" or the reading of the riot-act. To-day it worked even more

effectually than usual. Boges' self-satisfied smile showed that he had

noticed this; he then favored the assembly with a look expressive of his

contentment with their conduct, promised in a flowery speech to exert

all his influence with the king in behalf of his dear little white

doves, and wound up by telling them to arrange themselves in two long

rows.

The women obeyed and submitted to his scrutiny like soldiers on drill,

or slaves being examined by their buyer.

With the dress and ornaments of most he was satisfied, ordering,

however, to one a little more rouge, to another a little white powder

to subdue a too healthy color, here a different arrangement of the

hair--there a deeper tinge to the eyebrows, or more pains to be taken in

anointing the lips.

When this was over he left the hall and went to Phaedime, who as one

of the king's lawful wives, had a private room, separated from those

allotted to the concubines.

This former favorite,--this humbled daughter of the Achaemenidae, had

been expecting him already some time.

She was magnificently dressed, and almost overloaded with jewels. A

thick veil of gauze inwrought with gold hung from her little tiara, and

interlaced with this was the blue and white band of the Achaemenidae.

There could be no question that she was beautiful, but her figure was

already too strongly developed, a frequent result of the lazy harem life

among Eastern women. Fair golden hair, interwoven with little silver

chains and gold pieces, welled out almost too abundantly from beneath

her tiara, and was smoothed over her white temples.

She sprang forward to meet Boges, trembling with eagerness, caught a

hasty glance at herself in the looking-glass, and then, fixing her eyes

on the eunuch, asked impetuously: "Are you pleased with me? Will he

admire me?"

Boges smiled his old, eternal smile and answered: "You always please me,

my golden peacock, and the king would admire you too if he could see you

as you were a moment ago. You were really beautiful when you called

out, 'Will he admire me?' for passion had turned your blue eyes black

as night, and your lip was curled with hatred so as to show two rows of

teeth white as the snow on the Demawend!"

Phaedime was flattered and forced her face once more into the admired

expression, saying: "Then take us at once to the banquet, for I know

my eyes will be darker and more brilliant, and my teeth will gleam more

brightly, when I see that Egyptian girl sitting where I ought to sit."

"She will not be allowed to sit there long."

"What! is your plan likely to succeed then? Oh, Boges, do not hide it

any longer from me--I will be as silent as the grave--I will help you--I

will--"

"No, I cannot, I dare not tell you about it, but this much I will say in

order to sweeten this bitter evening: we have dug the pit for our enemy,

and if my golden Phaedime will only do what I tell her, I hope to give

her back her old place, and not only that, but even a higher one."

"Tell me what I am to do; I am ready for anything and everything."

"That was well and bravely spoken; like a true lioness. If you obey me

we must succeed; and the harder the task, the higher the reward. Don't

dispute what I am going to say, for we have not a minute to lose. Take

off all your useless ornaments and only wear the chain the king gave you

on your marriage. Put on a dark simple dress instead of this bright one;

and when you have prostrated yourself before Kassandane, bow down humbly

before the Egyptian Princess too."

"Impossible!"

"I will not be contradicted. Take off those ornaments at once, I entreat

you. There, that is right. We cannot succeed unless you obey me. How

white your neck is! The fair Peri would look dark by your side."

"But--"

"When your turn comes to ask a favor of the king, tell him you have no

wishes, now that the sun of your life has withdrawn his light."

"Yes, that I will do."

"When your father asks after your welfare, you must weep."

"I will do that too."

"And so that all the Achaemenidae can see that you are weeping."

"That will be a fearful humiliation!"

"Not at all; only a means by which to rise the more surely. Wash the

red color from your cheeks and put on white powder. Make yourself

pale--paler still."

"Yes, I shall need that to hide my blushes. Boges, you are asking

something fearful of me, but I will obey you if you will only give me a

reason."

"Girl, bring your mistress's new dark green robe."

"I shall look like a slave."

"True grace is lovely even in rags."

"The Egyptian will completely eclipse me."

"Yes, every one must see that you have not the slightest intention of

comparing yourself with her. Then people will say: 'Would not Phaedime

be as beautiful as this proud woman, if she had taken the same pains to

make herself so?"'

"But I cannot bow down to her."

"You must."

"You only want to humble and ruin me."

"Short-sighted fool! listen to my reasons and obey. I want especially

to excite the Achaemenidae against our enemy. How it will enrage your

grandfather Intaphernes, and your father Otanes to see you in the dust

before a stranger! Their wounded pride will bring them over to our side,

and if they are too 'noble,' as they call it, to undertake anything

themselves against a woman, still they will be more likely to help than

to hinder us, if I should need their assistance. Then, when the Egyptian

is ruined, if you have done as I wish, the king will remember your sad

pale face, your humility and forgetfulness of self. The Achaemenidae,

and even the Magi, will beg him to take a queen from his own family; and

where in all Persia is there a woman who can boast of better birth than

you? Who else can wear the royal purple but my bright bird of Paradise,

my beautiful rose Phaedime? With such a prize in prospect we must no

more fear a little humiliation than a man who is learning to ride fears

a fall from his horse."

And she, princess as she was, answered: "I will obey you."

"Then we are certain of victory," said the eunuch. "There, now your

eyes are flashing darkly again as I like to see them, my queen. And so

Cambyses shall see you when the tender flesh of the Egyptian shall have

become food for dogs and the birds of the air, and when for the first

time after long months of absence, I bring him once more to the door of

your apartments. Here, Armorges! tell the rest of the women to get ready

and enter their litters. I will go on and be there to show them their

places."

..........................

The great banqueting-hall was bright as day--even brighter, from the

light of thousands of candles whose rays were reflected in the gold

plates forming the panelling of the walls. A table of interminable

length stood in the middle of the hall, overloaded with gold and

silver cups, plates, dishes, bowls, jugs, goblets, ornaments and

incense-altars, and looked like a splendid scene from fairy-land.

"The king will soon be here," called out the head-steward of the table,

of the great court-lords, to the king's cup-bearer, who was a member of

the royal family. "Are all the wine-jugs full, has the wine been tasted,

are the goblets ranged in order, and the skins sent by Polykrates, have

they been emptied?"

"Yes," answered the cup-bearer, "everything is ready, and that Chian

wine is better than any I ever tasted; indeed, in my opinion, even the

Syrian is not to be compared to it. Only taste it."

So saying he took a graceful little golden goblet from the table in one

hand, raised a wine-pitcher of the same costly metal with the other,

swung the latter high into the air and poured the wine so cleverly into

the narrow neck of the little vessel that not a drop was lost, though

the liquid formed a wide curve in its descent. He then presented

the goblet to the head-steward with the tips of his fingers, bowing

gracefully as he did so.

The latter sipped the delicious wine, testing its flavor with great

deliberation, and said, on returning the cup: "I agree with you, it is

indeed a noble wine, and tastes twice as well when presented with such

inimitable grace. Strangers are quite right in saying that there are no

cupbearers like the Persian."

"Thanks for this praise," replied the other, kissing his friend's

forehead. "Yes, I am proud of my office, and it is one which the king

only gives to his friends. Still it is a great plague to have to stay

so long in this hot, suffocating Babylon. Shall we ever be off for the

summer, to Ecbatana or Pasargada?"

"I was talking to the king about it to-day. He had intended not to leave

before the Massagetan war, and to go straight from Babylon into the

field, but to-day's embassy has changed matters; it is probable that

there may be no war, and then we shall go to Susa three days after the

king's marriage--that is, in one week from the present time."

"To Susa?" cried the cup-bearer. "It's very little cooler there than

here, and besides, the old Memnon's castle is being rebuilt."

"The satrap of Susa has just brought word that the new palace is

finished, and that nothing so brilliant has ever been seen. Directly

Cambyses heard, it he said: Then we will start for Susa three days

after our marriage. I should like to show the Egyptian Princess that

we understand the art of building as well as her own ancestors. She is

accustomed to hot weather on the Nile, and will not find our beautiful

Susa too warm.' The king seems wonderfully fond of this woman."

"He does indeed! All other women have become perfectly indifferent to

him, and he means soon to make her his queen."

"That is unjust; Phaedime, as daughter of the Achaemenidae, has an older

and better right."

"No doubt, but whatever the king wishes, must be right."

"The ruler's will is the will of God."

"Well said! A true Persian will kiss his king's hand, even when dripping

with the blood of his own child."

"Cambyses ordered my brother's execution, but I bear him no more

ill-will for it than I should the gods for depriving me of my parents.

Here, you fellows! draw the curtains back; the guests are coming. Look

sharp, you dogs, and do your duty! Farewell, Artabazos, we shall have

warm work to-night."

BOOK 2.

CHAPTER I.

The principal steward of the banquet went forward to meet the guests as

they entered, and, assisted by other noble staff-bearers (chamberlains

and masters of the ceremonies), led them to their appointed places.

When they were all seated, a flourish of trumpets announced that the

king was near. As he entered the hall every one rose, and the multitude

received him with a thundering shout of "Victory to the king!" again and

again repeated.

The way to his seat was marked by a purple Sardian carpet, only to be

trodden by himself and Kassandane. His blind mother, led by Croesus,

went first and took her seat at the head of the table, on a throne

somewhat higher than the golden chair for Cambyses, which stood by it.

The king's lawful wives sat on his left hand; Nitetis next to him, then

Atossa, and by her side the pale, plainly-dressed Phaedime; next to this

last wife of Cambyses sat Boges, the eunuch. Then came the high-priest

Oropastes, some of the principal Magi, the satraps of various provinces

(among them the Jew Belteshazzar), and a number of Persians, Medes and

eunuchs, all holding high offices under the crown.

Bartja sat at the king's right hand, and after him Croesus, Hystaspes,

Gobryas, Araspes, and others of the Achaemenidae, according to their

rank and age. Of the concubines, the greater number sat at the foot of

the table; some stood opposite to Cambyses, and enlivened the banquet

by songs and music. A number of eunuchs stood behind them, whose duty it

was to see that they did not raise their eyes towards the men.