CHAPTER II.

The hunt was over. Waggons full of game, amongst which were several

enormous wild boars killed by the king's own hand, were driven home

behind the sports men. At the palace-gates the latter dispersed to

their several abodes, in order to exchange the simple Persian leather

hunting-costume for the splendid Median court-dress.

In the course of the day's sport Cambyses had (with difficulty

restraining his agitation) given his brother the seemingly kind order to

start the next day for Egypt in order to fetch Sappho and accompany

her to Persia. At the same time he assigned him the revenues of Bactra,

Rhagae and Sinope for the maintenance of his new household, and to

his young wife, all the duties levied from her native town Phocaea, as

pin-money.

Bartja thanked his generous brother with undisguised warmth, but

Cambyses remained cold as ice, uttered a few farewell words, and then,

riding off in pursuit of a wild ass, turned his back upon him.

On the way home from the chase the prince invited his bosom-friends

Croesus, Darius, Zopyrus and Gyges to drink a parting-cup with him.

Croesus promised to join them later, as he had promised to visit the

blue lily at the rising of the Tistarstar.

He had been to the hanging-gardens that morning early to visit Nitetis,

but had been refused entrance by the guards, and the blue lily seemed

now to offer him another chance of seeing and speaking to his beloved

pupil. He wished for this very much, as he could not thoroughly

understand her behavior the day before, and was uneasy at the strict

watch set over her.

The young Achaemenidae sat cheerfully talking together in the twilight

in a shady bower in the royal gardens, cool fountains plashing round

them. Araspes, a Persian of high rank, who had been one of Cyrus's

friends, had joined them, and did full justice to the prince's excellent

wine.

"Fortunate Bartja!" cried the old bachelor, "going out to a golden

country to fetch the woman you love; while I, miserable old fellow, am

blamed by everybody, and totter to my grave without wife or children to

weep for me and pray the gods to be merciful to my poor soul."

"Why think of such things?" cried Zopyrus, flourishing the wine-cup.

"There's no woman so perfect that her husband does not, at least once a

day, repent that he ever took a wife. Be merry, old friend, and remember

that it's all your own fault. If you thought a wife would make you

happy, why did not you do as I have done? I am only twenty-two years old

and have five stately wives and a troop of the most beautiful slaves in

my house."

Araspes smiled bitterly.

"And what hinders you from marrying now?" said Gyges. "You are a

match for many a younger man in appearance, strength, courage and

perseverance. You are one of the king's nearest relations too--I tell

you, Araspes, you might have twenty young and beautiful wives."

"Look after your own affairs," answered Araspes. "In your place, I

certainly should not have waited to marry till I was thirty."

"An oracle has forbidden my marrying."

"Folly? how can a sensible man care for what an oracle says? It is

only by dreams, that the gods announce the future to men. I should have

thought that your own father was example enough of the shameful way in

which those lying priests deceive their best friends."

"That is a matter which you do not understand, Araspes."

"And never wish to, boy, for you only believe in oracles because you

don't understand them, and in your short-sightedness call everything

that is beyond your comprehension a miracle. And you place more

confidence in anything that seems to you miraculous, than in the plain

simple truth that lies before your face. An oracle deceived your father

and plunged him into ruin, but the oracle is miraculous, and so you too,

in perfect confidence, allow it to rob you of happiness!"

"That is blasphemy, Araspes. Are the gods to be blamed because we

misunderstand their words?"

"Certainly: for if they wished to benefit us they would give us, with

the words, the necessary penetration for discovering their meaning. What

good does a beautiful speech do me, if it is in a foreign language that

I do not understand?"

"Leave off this useless discussion," said Darius, "and tell us instead,

Araspes, how it is that, though you congratulate every man on becoming

a bridegroom, you yourself have so long submitted to be blamed by the

priests, slighted at all entertainments and festivals, and abused by the

women, only because you choose to live and die a bachelor?"

Araspes looked down thoughtfully, then shook himself, took a long

draught from the wine-cup, and said, "I have my reasons, friends, but I

cannot tell them now."

"Tell them, tell them," was the answer.

"No, children, I cannot, indeed I cannot. This cup I drain to the

health of the charming Sappho, and this second to your good fortune, my

favorite, Darius."

"Thanks, Araspes!" exclaimed Bartja, joyfully raising his goblet to his

lips.

"You mean well, I know," muttered Darius, looking down gloomily.

"What's this, you son of Hystaspes?" cried the old man, looking more

narrowly at the serious face of the youth. "Dark looks like these don't

sit well on a betrothed lover, who is to drink to the health of his

dearest one. Is not Gobryas' little daughter the noblest of all the

young Persian girls after Atossa? and isn't she beautiful?"

"Artystone has every talent and quality that a daughter of the

Achaemenidae ought to possess," was Darius's answer, but his brow did

not clear as he said the words.

"Well, if you want more than that, you must be very hard to please."

Darius raised his goblet and looked down into the wine.

"The boy is in love, as sure as my name is Araspes!" exclaimed the elder

man.

"What a set of foolish fellows you are," broke in Zopyrus at this

exclamation. "One of you has remained a bachelor in defiance of all

Persian customs; another has been frightened out of marrying by an

oracle; Bartja has determined to be content with only one wife; and

Darius looks like a Destur chanting the funeral-service, because his

father has told him to make himself happy with the most beautiful and

aristocratic girl in Persia!"

"Zopyrus is right," cried Araspes. "Darius is ungrateful to fortune."

Bartja meanwhile kept his eyes fixed on the friend, who was thus blamed

by the others. He saw that their jests annoyed him, and feeling his own

great happiness doubly in that moment, pressed Darius's hand, saying: "I

am so sorry that I cannot be present at your wedding. By the time I come

back, I hope you will be reconciled to your father's choice."

"Perhaps," said Darius, "I may be able to show a second and even a third

wife by that time."

"'Anahita' grant it!" exclaimed Zopyrus. "The Achaemenidae would soon

become extinct, if every one were to follow such examples as Gyges and

Araspes have set us. And your one wife, Bartja, is really not worth

talking about. It is your duty to marry three wives at once, in order to

keep up your father's family--the race of Cyrus."

"I hate our custom of marrying many wives," answered Bartja. "Through

doing this, we make ourselves inferior to the women, for we expect them

to remain faithful to us all our lives, and we, who are bound to respect

truth and faithfulness above every thing else, swear inviolable love to

one woman to-day, and to another to-morrow."

"Nonsense!" cried Zopyrus. "I'd rather lose my tongue than tell a he to

a man, but our wives are so awfully deceitful, that one has no choice

but to pay them back in their own coin."

"The Greek women are different," said Bartja, "because they are

differently treated. Sappho told me of one, I think her name was

Penelope, who waited twenty years faithfully and lovingly for her

husband, though every one believed he was dead, and she had fifty lovers

a day at her house."

"My wives would not wait so long for me," said Zopyrus laughing. "To

tell the truth, I don't think I should be sorry to find an empty house,

if I came back after twenty years. For then I could take some new wives

into my harem, young and beautiful, instead of the unfaithful ones, who,

besides, would have grown old. But alas! every woman does not find some

one to run away with her, and our women would rather have an absent

husband than none at all."

"If your wives could hear what you are saying!" said Araspes.

"They would declare war with me at once, or, what is still worse,

conclude a peace with one another."

"How would that be worse?"

"How? it is easy to see, that you have had no experience."

"Then let us into the secrets of your married life."

"With pleasure. You can easily fancy, that five wives in one house do

not live quite so peacefully as five doves in a cage; mine at least

carry on an uninterrupted, mortal warfare. But I have accustomed myself

to that, and their sprightliness even amuses me. A year ago, however,

they came to terms with one another, and this day of peace was the most

miserable in my life."

"You are jesting."

"No, indeed, I am quite in earnest. The wretched eunuch who had to keep

watch over the five, allowed them to see an old jewel-merchant from

Tyre. Each of them chose a separate and expensive set of jewels. When

I came home Sudabe came up and begged for money to pay for these

ornaments. The things were too dear, and I refused. Every one of the

five then came and begged me separately for the money; I refused each of

them point blank and went off to court. When I came back, there were all

my wives weeping side by side, embracing one another and calling each

other fellow-sufferers. These former enemies rose up against me with

the most touching unanimity, and so overwhelmed me with revilings and

threats that I left the room. They closed their doors against me. The

next morning the lamentations of the evening before were continued. I

fled once more and went hunting with the king, and when I came back,

tired, hungry and half-frozen--for it was in spring, we were already at

Ecbatana, and the snow was lying an ell deep on the Orontes--there was

no fire on the hearth and nothing to eat. These noble creatures had

entered into an alliance in order to punish me, had put out the fire,

forbidden the cooks to do their duty and, which was worse than all--had

kept the jewels! No sooner had I ordered the slaves to make a fire and

prepare food, than the impudent jewel-dealer appeared and demanded

his money. I refused again, passed another solitary night, and in the

morning sacrificed ten talents for the sake of peace. Since that time

harmony and peace among my beloved wives seems to me as much to be

feared as the evil Divs themselves, and I see their little quarrels with

the greatest pleasure."

"Poor Zopyrus!" cried Bartja.

"Why poor?" asked this five-fold husband. "I tell you I am much happier

than you are. My wives are young and charming, and when they grow old,

what is to hinder me from taking others, still handsomer, and who,

by the side of the faded beauties, will be doubly charming. Ho!

slave--bring some lamps. The sun has gone down, and the wine loses all

its flavor when the table is not brightly lighted."

At this moment the voice of Darius, who had left the arbor and gone out

into the garden, was heard calling: "Come and hear how beautifully the

nightingale is singing."

"By Mithras, you son of Hystaspes, you must be in love," interrupted

Araspes. "The flowery darts of love must have entered the heart of him,

who leaves his wine to listen to the nightingale."

"You are right there, father," cried Bartja. "Philomel, as the Greeks

call our Gulgul, is the lovers' bird among all nations, for love has

given her her beautiful song. What beauty were you dreaming of, Darius,

when you went out to listen to the nightingale?"

"I was not dreaming of any," answered he. "You know how fond I am of

watching the stars, and the Tistar-star rose so splendidly to-night,

that I left the wine to watch it. The nightingales were singing so

loudly to one another, that if I had not wished to hear them I must have

stopped my ears."

"You kept them wide open, however," said Araspes laughing. "Your

enraptured exclamation proved that."

"Enough of this," cried Darius, to whom these jokes were getting

wearisome. "I really must beg you to leave off making allusions to

matters, which I do not care to hear spoken of."

"Imprudent fellow!" whispered the older man; "now you really have

betrayed yourself. If you were not in love, you would have laughed

instead of getting angry. Still I won't go on provoking you--tell me

what you have just been reading in the stars."

At these words Darius looked up again into the starry sky and fixed his

eyes on a bright constellation hanging over the horizon. Zopyrus

watched him and called out to his friends, "Something important must be

happening up there. Darius, tell us what's going on in the heavens just

now."

"Nothing good," answered the other. "Bartja, I have something to say to

you alone."

"Why to me alone? Araspes always keeps his own counsel, and from the

rest of you I never have any secrets."

"Still--"

"Speak out."

"No, I wish you would come into the garden with me."

Bartja nodded to the others, who were still sitting over their wine,

laid his hand on Darius' shoulder and went out with him into the bright

moonlight. As soon as they were alone, Darius seized both his friend's

hands, and said: "To-day is the third time that things have happened in

the heavens, which bode no good for you. Your evil star has approached

your favorable constellation so nearly, that a mere novice in astrology

could see some serious danger was at hand. Be on your guard, Bartja, and

start for Egypt to-day; the stars tell me that the danger is here on the

Euphrates, not abroad."

"Do you believe implicitly in the stars?"

"Implicitly. They never lie."

"Then it would be folly to try and avoid what they have foretold."

"Yes, no man can run away from his destiny; but that very destiny

is like a fencing-master--his favorite pupils are those who have the

courage and skill to parry his own blows. Start for Egypt to-day,

Bartja."

"I cannot--I haven't taken leave of my mother and Atossa."

"Send them a farewell message, and tell Croesus to explain the reason of

your starting so quickly."

"They would call me a coward."

"It is cowardly to yield to any mortal, but to go out of the way of

one's fate is wisdom."

"You contradict yourself, Darius. What would the fencing-master say to a

runaway-pupil?"

"He would rejoice in the stratagem, by which an isolated individual

tried to escape a superior force."

"But the superior force must conquer at last.--What would be the use

of my trying to put off a danger which, you say yourself, cannot

be averted? If my tooth aches, I have it drawn at once, instead of

tormenting and making myself miserable for weeks by putting off the

painful operation as a coward or a woman would, till the last moment.

I can await this coming danger bravely, and the sooner it comes the

better, for then I shall have it behind me."

"You do not know how serious it is."

"Are you afraid for my life?"

"No."

"Then tell me, what you are afraid of."

"That Egyptian priest with whom I used to study the stars, once cast

your horoscope with me. He knew more about the heavens, than any man I

ever saw. I learnt a great deal from him, and I will not hide from you

that even then he drew my attention to dangers that threaten you now."

"And you did not tell me?"

"Why should I have made you uneasy beforehand? Now that your destiny is

drawing near, I warn you."

"Thank you,--I will be careful. In former times I should not have

listened to such a warning, but now that I love Sappho, I feel as if my

life were not so much my own to do what I like with, as it used to be."

"I understand this feeling..."

"You understand it? Then Araspes was right? You don't deny?"

"A mere dream without any hope of fulfilment."

"But what woman could refuse you?"

"Refuse!"

"I don't understand you. Do you mean to say that you--the boldest

sportsman, the strongest wrestler--the wisest of all the young

Persians--that you, Darius, are afraid of a woman?"

"Bartja, may I tell you more, than I would tell even to my own father?"

"Yes."

"I love the daughter of Cyrus, your sister and the king's, Atossa."

"Have I understood you rightly? you love Atossa? Be praised for this, O

ye pure Amescha cpenta! Now I shall never believe in your stars again,

for instead of the danger with which they threatened me, here comes

an unexpected happiness. Embrace me, my brother, and tell me the whole

story, that I may see whether I can help you to turn this hopeless

dream, as you call it, into a reality."

"You will remember that before our journey to Egypt, we went with the

entire court from Ecbatana to Susa. I was in command of the division of

the 'Immortals' appointed to escort the carriages containing the king's

mother and sister, and his wives. In going through the narrow pass which

leads over the Orontes, the horses of your mother's carriage slipped.

The yoke to which the horses were harnessed broke from the pole, and

the heavy, four-wheeled carriage fell over the precipice without

obstruction.

[There was a yoke at the end of the shaft of a Persian carriage,

which was fastened on to the backs of the horses and took the place

of our horse-collar and pole-chain.]

On seeing it disappear, we were horrified and spurred our horses to

the place as quickly as possible. We expected of course to see only

fragments of the carriages and the dead bodies of its inmates, but the

gods had taken them into their almighty protection, and there lay the

carriage, with broken wheels, in the arms of two gigantic cypresses

which had taken firm root in the fissures of the slate rocks, and whose

dark tops reached up to the edge of the carriage-road.

"As quick as thought I sprang from my horse and scrambled down one of

the cypresses. Your mother and sister stretched their arms to me, crying

for help. The danger was frightful, for the sides of the carriage had

been so shattered by the fall, that they threatened every moment to give

way, in which case those inside it must inevitably have fallen into

the black, unfathomable abyss which looked like an abode for the gloomy

Divs, and stretched his jaws wide to crush its beautiful victims.

"I stood before the shattered carriage as it hung over the precipice

ready to fall to pieces every moment, and then for the first time I met

your sister's imploring look. From that moment I loved her, but at the

time I was much too intent on saving them, to think of anything else,

and had no idea what had taken place within me. I dragged the trembling

women out of the carriage, and one minute later it rolled down the abyss

crashing into a thousand pieces. I am a strong man, but I confess that

all my strength was required to keep myself and the two women from

falling over the precipice until ropes were thrown to us from above.

Atossa hung round my neck, and Kassandane lay on my breast, supported by

my left arm; with the right I fastened the rope round my waist, we were

drawn up, and I found myself a few minutes later on the high-road--your

mother and sister were saved.

"As soon as one of the Magi had bound up the wounds cut by the rope in

my side, the king sent for me, gave me the chain I am now wearing and

the revenues of an entire satrapy, and then took me to his mother and

sister. They expressed their gratitude very warmly; Kassandane allowed

me to kiss her forehead, and gave me all the jewels she had worn at the

time of the accident, as a present for my future wife. Atossa took a

ring from her finger, put it on mine and kissed my hand in the warmth of

her emotion--you know how eager and excitable she is. Since that happy

day--the happiest in my life--I have never seen your sister, till

yesterday evening, when we sat opposite to each other at the banquet.

Our eyes met. I saw nothing but Atossa, and I think she has not

forgotten the man who saved her. Kassandane..."

"Oh, my mother would be delighted to have you for a son-in-law; I will

answer for that. As to the king, your father must apply to him; he is

our uncle and has a right to ask the hand of Cyrus's daughter for his

son."

"But have you forgotten your father's dream? You know that Cambyses has

always looked on me with suspicion since that time."

"Oh, that has been long forgotten. My father dreamt before his death

that you had wings, and was misled by the soothsayers into the fancy

that you, though you were only eighteen then, would try to gain the

crown. Cambyses thought of this dream too; but, when you saved my

mother and sister, Croesus explained to him that this must have been its

fulfilment, as no one but Darius or a winged eagle could possibly have

possessed strength and dexterity enough to hang suspended over such an

abyss."

"Yes, and I remember too that these words did not please your brother.

He chooses to be the only eagle in Persia; but Croesus does not spare

his vanity--"

"Where can Croesus be all this time?"

"In the hanging-gardens. My father and Gobryas have very likely detained

him."

Just at that moment the voice of Zopyrus was heard exclaiming, "Well,

I call that polite! Bartja invites us to a wine-party and leaves us

sitting here without a host, while he talks secrets yonder."

"We are coming, we are coming," answered Bartja. Then taking the hand of

Darius heartily, he said: "I am very glad that you love Atossa. I shall

stay here till the day after to-morrow, let the stars threaten me with

all the dangers in the world. To-morrow I will find out what Atossa

feels, and when every thing is in the right track I shall go away, and

leave my winged Darius to his own powers."

So saying Bartja went back into the arbor, and his friend began to watch

the stars again. The longer he looked the sadder and more serious became

his face, and when the Tistar-star set, he murmured, "Poor Bartja!" His

friends called him, and he was on the point of returning to them,

when he caught sight of a new star, and began to examine its position

carefully. His serious looks gave way to a triumphant smile, his tall

figure seemed to grow taller still, he pressed his hand on his heart and

whispered: "Use your pinions, winged Darius; your star will be on your

side," and then returned to his friends.

A few minutes after, Croesus came up to the arbor. The youths sprang

from their seats to welcome the old man, but when he saw Bartja's

face by the bright moonlight, he stood as if transfixed by a flash of

lightning.

"What has happened, father?" asked Gyges, seizing his hand anxiously.

"Nothing, nothing," he stammered almost inaudibly, and pushing his son

on one side, whispered in Bartja's ear: "Unhappy boy, you are still

here? don't delay any longer,--fly at once! the whip-bearers are close

at my heels, and I assure you that if you don't use the greatest speed,

you will have to forfeit your double imprudence with your life."

"But Croesus, I have..."

"You have set at nought the law of the land and of the court, and, in

appearance at least, have done great offence to your brother's honor.

..."

"You are speaking..."

"Fly, I tell you--fly at once; for if your visit to the hanging-gardens

was ever so innocently meant, you are still in the greatest danger. You

know Cambyses' violent temper so well; how could you so wickedly disobey

his express command?"

"I don't understand."

"No excuses,--fly! don't you know that, Cambyses has long been jealous

of you, and that your visit to the Egyptian to-night..."

"I have never once set foot in the hanging-gardens, since Nitetis has

been here."

"Don't add a lie to your offence, I..."

"But I swear to you..."

"Do you wish to turn a thoughtless act into a crime by adding the guilt

of perjury? The whip-bearers are coming, fly!"

"I shall remain here, and abide by my oath."

"You are infatuated! It is not an hour ago since I myself, Hystaspes,

and others of the Achaemenidae saw you in the hanging-gardens..."

In his astonishment Bartja had, half involuntarily, allowed himself to

be led away, but when he heard this he stood still, called his friends

and said "Croesus says he met me an hour ago in the hanging-gardens,

you know that since the sun set I have not been away from you. Give your

testimony, that in this case an evil Div must have made sport of our

friend and his companions."

"I swear to you, father," cried Gyges, "that Bartja has not left this

garden for some hours."

"And we confirm the same," added Araspes, Zopyrus and Darius with one

voice.

"You want to deceive me?" said Croesus getting very angry, and looking

at each of them reproachfully: "Do you fancy that I am blind or mad?

Do you think that your witness will outweigh the words of such men as

Hystaspes, Gobryas, Artaphernes and the high priest, Oropastes? In spite

of all your false testimony, which no amount of friendship can justify,

Bartja will have to die unless he flies at once."

"May Angramainjus destroy me," said Araspes interrupting the old man,

"if Bartja was in the hanging-gardens two hours ago!" and Gyges added:

"Don't call me your son any longer, if we have given false testimony."

Darius was beginning to appeal to the eternal stars, but Bartja put an

end to this confusion of voices by saying in a decided tone: "A division

of the bodyguard is coming into the garden. I am to be arrested; I

cannot escape because I am innocent, and to fly would lay me open to

suspicion. By the soul of my father, the blind eyes of my mother, and

the pure light of the sun, Croesus, I swear that I am not lying."

"Am I to believe you, in spite of my own eyes which have never yet

deceived me? But I will, boy, for I love you. I do not and I will not

know whether you are innocent or guilty, but this I do know, you must

fly, and fly at once. You know Cambyses. My carriage is waiting at the

gate. Don't spare the horses, save yourself even if you drive them to

death. The Soldiers seem to know what they have been sent to do; there

can be no question that they delay so long only in order to give their

favorite time to escape. Fly, fly, or it is all over with you."

Darius, too, pushed his friend forward, exclaiming: "Fly, Bartja, and

remember the warning that the heavens themselves wrote in the stars for

you."

Bartja, however, stood silent, shook his handsome head, waved his

friends back, and answered: "I never ran away yet, and I mean to hold my

ground to-day. Cowardice is worse than death in my opinion, and I would

rather suffer wrong at the hands of others than disgrace myself. There

are the soldiers! Well met, Bischen. You've come to arrest me, haven't

you? Wait one moment, till I have said good-bye to my friends."

Bischen, the officer he spoke to, was one of Cyrus's old captains; he

had given Bartja his first lessons in shooting and throwing the spear,

had fought by his side in the war with the Tapuri, and loved him as if

he were his own son. He interrupted him, saying: "There is no need to

take leave of your friends, for the king, who is raging like a madman,

ordered me not only to arrest you, but every one else who might be with

you."

And then he added in a low voice: "The king is beside himself with rage

and threatens to have your life. You must fly. My men will do what I

tell them blindfold; they will not pursue you; and I am so old that

it would be little loss to Persia, if my head were the price of my

disobedience."

"Thanks, thanks, my friend," said Bartja, giving him his hand; "but I

cannot accept your offer, because I am innocent, and I know that though

Cambyses is hasty, he is not unjust. Come friends, I think the king will

give us a hearing to-day, late as it is."

An Egyptian Princess — Complete · 第 2 / 16 章