CHAPTER XIV.

While our friends were enjoying their row on the Nile, Cambyses' envoy,

Prexaspes, had returned from a mission to the long-lived Ethiopians. He

praised their strength and stature, described the way to their country

as almost inaccessible to a large army, and had plenty of marvellous

tales to tell. How, for instance; they always chose the strongest

and handsomest man in their nation for their king, and obeyed him

unconditionally: how many of them reached the age of 120 years, and some

even passed it: how they ate nothing but boiled flesh, drank new milk

and washed in a spring the waters of which had the scent of violets,

gave a remarkable lustre to their skins, and were so light that wood

could not swim in them: how their captives wore golden fetters, because

other metals were rare and dear in their country; and lastly, how they

covered the bodies of the dead with plaster or stucco, over which a

coating of some glass-like material was poured, and kept the pillars

thus formed one year in their houses, during which time sacrifices were

offered them, and at the year's end they were placed in rows around the

town.

The king of this strange people had accepted Cambyses' presents, saying,

in a scornful tone, that he new well his friendship was of no importance

to the Persians, and Prexaspes had only been sent to spy out the land.

If the prince of Asia were a just man, he would be contented with his

own immense empire and not try to subjugate a people who had done him no

wrong. "Take your king this bow," he said, "and advise him not to begin

the war with us, until the Persians are able to bend such weapons as

easily as we do. Cambyses may thank the gods, that the Ethiopians have

never taken it into their heads to conquer countries which do not belong

to them."

He then unbent his mighty bow of ebony, and gave it to Prexaspes to take

to his lord.

Cambyses laughed at the bragging African, invited his nobles to a trial

of the bow the next morning, and awarded Prexaspes for the clever way

in which he had overcome the difficulties of his journey and acquitted

himself of his mission. He then went to rest, as usual intoxicated, and

fell into a disturbed sleep, in which he dreamed that Bartja was seated

on the throne of Persia, and that the crown of his head touched the

heavens.

This was a dream, which he could interpret without the aid of soothsayer

or Chaldean. It roused his anger first, and then made him thoughtful.

He could not sleep, and such questions as the following came into his

mind: "Haven't you given your brother reason to feel revengeful? Do you

think he can forget that you imprisoned and condemned him to death, when

he was innocent? And if he should raise his hand against you, would

not all the Achaemenidae take his part? Have I ever done, or have I

any intention of ever doing anything to win the love of these venal

courtiers? Since Nitetis died and that strange Greek fled, has there

been a single human being, in whom I have the least confidence or on

whose affection I can rely?"

These thoughts and questionings excited him so fearfully, that he sprang

from his bed, crying: "Love and I have nothing to do with one another.

Other men maybe kind and good if they like; I must be stern, or I shall

fall into the hands of those who hate me--hate me because I have been

just, and have visited heavy sins with heavy chastisements. They whisper

flattering words in my ear; they curse me when my back is turned. The

gods themselves must be my enemies, or why do they rob me of everything

I love, deny me posterity and even that military glory which is my just

due? Is Bartja so much better than I, that everything which I am forced

to give up should be his in hundred-fold measure? Love, friendship,

fame, children, everything flows to him as the rivers to the sea, while

my heart is parched like the desert. But I am king still. I can show

him which is the stronger of us two, and I will, though his forehead

may touch the heavens. In Persia there can be only one great man. He

or I,--I or he. In a few days I'll send him back to Asia and make him

satrap of Bactria. There he can nurse his child and listen to his wife's

songs, while I am winning glory in Ethiopia, which it shall not be in

his power to lessen. Ho, there, dressers! bring my robes and a good

morning-draught of wine. I'll show the Persians that I'm fit to be

King of Ethiopia, and can beat them all at bending a bow. Here, give me

another cup of wine. I'd bend that bow, if it were a young cedar and its

string a cable!" So saying he drained an immense bowl of wine and went

into the palace-garden, conscious of his enormous strength and therefore

sure of success.

All his nobles were assembled waiting for him there, welcomed him with

loud acclamations, and fell on their faces to the ground before their

king.

Pillars, connected by scarlet cords, had been quickly set up between the

closely-cut hedges and straight avenues. From these cords, suspended by

gold and silver rings, yellow and dark blue hangings fluttered in the

breeze. Gilded wooden benches had been placed round in a large circle,

and nimble cup-bearers handed wine in costly vessels to the company

assembled for the shooting-match.

At a sign from the king the Achaemenidae rose from the earth.

Cambyses glanced over their ranks, and his face brightened on seeing

that Bartja was not there. Prexaspes handed him the Ethiopian bow, and

pointed out a target at some distance. Cambyses laughed at the large

size of the target, weighted the bow with his right hand, challenged

his subjects to try their fortune first, and handed the bow to the aged

Hystaspes, as the highest in rank among the Achaemenidae.

While Hystaspes first, and then all the heads of the six other highest

families in Persia, were using their utmost efforts to bend this monster

weapon in vain, the king emptied goblet after goblet of wine, his

spirits rising as he watched their vain endeavors to solve the

Ethiopian's problem. At last Darius, who was famous for his skill in

archery, took the bow. Nearly the same result. The wood was inflexible

as iron and all his efforts only availed to move it one finger's

breadth. The king gave him a friendly nod in reward for his success,

and then, looking round on his friends and relations in a manner that

betokened the most perfect assurance, he said: "Give me the bow now,

Darius. I will show you, that there is only one man in Persia who

deserves the name of king;--only one who can venture to take the field

against the Ethiopians;--only one who can bend this bow."

He grasped it tightly with his left hand, taking the string, which was

as thick as a man's finger and made from the intestines of a lion, in

his right, fetched a deep breath, bent his mighty back and pulled and

pulled; collected all his strength for greater and greater efforts,

strained his sinews till they threatened to break, and the veins in his

forehead were swollen to bursting, did not even disdain to use his

feet and legs, but all in vain. After a quarter of an hour of almost

superhuman exertion, his strength gave way, the ebony, which he had

succeeded in bending even farther than Darius, flew back and set all

his further endeavors at nought. At last, feeling himself thoroughly

exhausted, he dashed the bow on to the ground in a passion, crying:

"The Ethiopian is a liar! no mortal man has ever bent that bow. What is

impossible for my arm is possible for no other. In three days we will

start for Ethiopia. I will challenge the impostor to a single combat,

and ye shall see which is the stronger. Take up the bow, Prexaspes,

and keep it carefully. The black liar shall be strangled with his own

bow-string. This wood is really harder than iron, and I confess that

the man who could bend it, would really be my master. I should not be

ashamed to call him so, for he must be of better stuff than I."

As he finished speaking, Bartja appeared in the circle of assembled

Persians. His glorious figure was set off to advantage by his rich

dress, his features were bright with happiness and a feeling of

conscious strength. He passed through the ranks of the Achaemenidae with

many a friendly nod, which was warmly returned, and going straight to

his brother, kissed his robe, looked up frankly and cheerfully into his

gloomy eyes, and said: "I am a little late, and ask your forgiveness, my

lord and brother. Or have I really come in time? Yes, yes, I see there's

no arrow in the target yet, so I am sure you, the best archer in the

world, cannot have tried your strength yet. But you look so enquiringly

at me. Then I will confess that our child kept me. The little creature

laughed to-day for the first time, and was so charming with its mother,

that I forgot how time was passing while I watched them. You have all

full leave to laugh at my folly; I really don't know how to excuse

myself. See, the little one has pulled my star from the chain. But I

think, my brother, you will give me a new one to-day if I should hit the

bull's eye. Shall I shoot first, or will you begin, my Sovereign?"

"Give him the bow, Prexaspes," said Cambyses, not even deigning to look

at his brother.

Bartja took it and was proceeding to examine the wood and the string,

when Cambyses suddenly called out, with a mocking laugh: "By Mithras, I

believe you want to try your sweet looks on the bow, and win its favor

in that fashion, as you do the hearts of men. Give it back to Prexaspes.

It's easier to play with beautiful women and laughing children, than

with a weapon like this, which mocks the strength even of real men."

Bartja blushed with anger and annoyance at this speech, which was

uttered in the bitterest tone, picked up the giant arrow that lay before

him, placed himself opposite the target, summoned all his strength, bent

the bow, by an almost superhuman effort, and sent the arrow into the

very centre of the target, where its iron point remained, while the

wooden shaft split into a hundred shivers.

[Herodotus tells this story (III, 30.), and we are indebted to him

also for our information of the events which follow. The following

inscription, said to have been placed over the grave of Darius, and

communicated by Onesikritus, (Strabo 730.) proves that the Persians

were very proud of being reputed good archers: "I was a friend to my

friends, the best rider and archer, a first-rate hunter; I could do

everything."]

Most of the Achaemenidae burst into loud shouts of delight at this

marvellous proof of strength; but Bartja's nearest friends turned pale

and were silent; they were watching the king, who literally quivered

with rage, and Bartja, who was radiant with pride and joy.

Cambyses was a fearful sight at that moment. It seemed to him as if that

arrow, in piercing the target, had pierced his own heart, his strength,

dignity and honor. Sparks floated before his eyes, in his ears was a

sound like the breaking of a stormy sea on the shore; his cheeks glowed

and he grasped the arm of Prexaspes who was at his side. Prexaspes only

too well understood what that pressure meant, when given by a royal

hand, and murmured: "Poor Bartja!"

At last the king succeeded in recovering his presence of mind. Without

saying a word, he threw a gold chain to his brother, ordered his nobles

to follow him, and left the garden, but only to wander restlessly up

and down his apartments, and try to drown his rage in wine. Suddenly he

seemed to have formed a resolution and ordered all the courtiers, except

Prexaspes, to leave the hall. When they were alone, he called out in a

hoarse voice and with a look that proved the extent of his intoxication:

"This life is not to be borne! Rid me of my enemy, and I will call you

my friend and benefactor."

Prexaspes trembled, threw himself at the king's feet and raised his

hands imploringly; but Cambyses was too intoxicated, and too much

blinded by his hatred to understand the action. He fancied the

prostration was meant as a sign of devotion to his will, signed to him

to rise, and whispered, as if afraid of hearing his own words: "Act

quickly and secretly; and, as you value your life, let no one know of

the upstart's death. Depart, and when your work is finished, take as

much as you like out of the treasury. But keep your wits about you. The

boy has a strong arm and a winning tongue. Think of your own wife and

children, if he tries to win you over with his smooth words."

As he spoke he emptied a fresh goblet of pure wine, staggered through

the door of the room, calling out as he turned his back on Prexaspes:

"Woe be to you if that upstart, that woman's hero, that fellow who has

robbed me of my honor, is left alive."

Long after he had left the hall, Prexaspes stood fixed on the spot where

he had heard these words. The man was ambitious, but neither mean nor

bad, and he felt crushed by the awful task allotted to him. He knew that

his refusal to execute it would bring death or disgrace on himself

and on his family; but he loved Bartja, and besides, his whole nature

revolted at the thought of becoming a common, hired murderer. A fearful

struggle began in his mind, and raged long after he left the palace. On

the way home he met Croesus and Darius. He fancied they would see from

his looks that he was already on the way to a great crime, and hid

himself behind the projecting gate of a large Egyptian house. As they

passed, he heard Croesus say: "I reproached him bitterly, little as he

deserves reproach in general, for having given such an inopportune proof

of his great strength. We may really thank the gods, that Cambyses did

not lay violent hands on him in a fit of passion. He has followed my

advice now and gone with his wife to Sais. For the next few days Bartja

must not come near the king; the mere sight of him might rouse his anger

again, and a monarch can always find unprincipled servants..."

The rest of the sentence died away in the distance, but the words he had

heard were enough to make Prexaspes start, as if Croesus had accused him

of the shameful deed. He resolved in that moment that, come what

would, his hands should not be stained with the blood of a friend. This

resolution restored him his old erect bearing and firm gait for the

time, but when he reached the dwelling which had been assigned as his

abode in Sais his two boys ran to the door to meet him. They had stolen

away from the play-ground of the sons of the Achaemenidae, (who, as was

always the case, had accompanied the king and the army), to see their

father for a moment. He felt a strange tenderness, which he could not

explain to himself, on taking them in his arms, and kissed the beautiful

boys once more on their telling him that they must go back to their

play-ground again, or they should be punished. Within, he found his

favorite wife playing with their youngest child, a sweet little girl.

Again the same strange, inexplicable feeling of tenderness. He overcame

it this time for fear of betraying his secret to his young wife, and

retired to his own apartment early.

Night had come on.

The sorely-tried man could not sleep; he turned restlessly from side to

side. The fearful thought, that his refusal to do the king's will would

be the ruin of his wife and children, stood before his wakeful eyes in

the most vivid colors. The strength to keep his good resolution forsook

him, and even Croesus' words, which, when he first heard them had given

his nobler feelings the victory, now came in as a power on the other

side. "A monarch can always find unprincipled servants." Yes, the words

were an affront, but at the same time a reminder, that though he might

defy the king's command a hundred others would be ready to obey it.

No sooner had this thought become clear to him, than he started up,

examined a number of daggers which hung, carefully arranged, above his

bed, and laid the sharpest on the little table before him.

He then began to pace the room in deep thought, often going to the

opening which served as a window, to cool his burning forehead and see

if dawn were near.

When at last daylight appeared, he heard the sounding brass calling the

boys to early prayer. That reminded him of his sons and he examined

the dagger a second time. A troop of gaily-dressed courtiers rode by on

their way to the king. He put the dagger in his girdle; and at last, on

hearing the merry laughter of his youngest child sound from the women's

apartments, he set the tiara hastily on his head, left the house without

taking leave of his wife, and, accompanied by a number of slaves, went

down to the Nile. There he threw himself into a boat and ordered the

rowers to take him to Sais.

.........................

A few hours after the fatal shooting-match, Bartja had followed Croesus'

advice and had gone off to Sais with his young wife. They found Rhodopis

there. She had yielded to an irresistible impulse and, instead of

returning to Naukratis, had stopped at Sais. Bartja's fall on stepping

ashore had disturbed her, and she had with her own eyes seen an owl fly

from the left side close by his head. These evil omens, to a heart

which had by no means outgrown the superstitions of the age, added to

a confused succession of distressing dreams which had disturbed her

slumbers, and her usual wish to be always near Bartja and Sappho, led

her to decide quickly on waiting for her granddaughter at Sais.

Bartja and Sappho were delighted to find such a welcome guest, and after

she had dandled and played with her great grandchild, the little

Parmys, to her heart's content, they led her to the rooms which had been

prepared for her.

[Herodotus states, that beside Atossa, &c.. Darius took a daughter

of the deceased Bartja, named Parmys, to be his wife. Herod. III.

88. She is also mentioned VII. 78.]

They were the same in which the unhappy Tachot had spent the last months

of her fading existence. Rhodopis could not see all the little trifles

which showed, not only the age and sex of the former occupant, but her

tastes and disposition, without feeling very sad. On the dressing-table

were a number of little ointment-boxes and small bottles for perfumes,

cosmetics, washes and oils. Two larger boxes, one in the form of a

Nile-goose, and another on the side of which a woman playing on a

lute had been painted, had once contained the princess's costly golden

ornaments, and the metal mirror with a handle in the form of a sleeping

maiden, had once reflected her beautiful face with its pale pink flush.

Everything in the room, from the elegant little couch resting on lions'

claws, to the delicately-carved ivory combs on the toilet-table, proved

that the outward adornments of life had possessed much charm for

the former owner of these rooms. The golden sisirum and the

delicately-wrought nabla, the strings of which had long ago been broken,

testified to her taste for music, while the broken spindle in the

corner, and some unfinished nets of glass beads shewed that she had been

fond of woman's usual work.

It was a sad pleasure to Rhodopis to examine all these things, and the

picture which she drew in her own mind of Tachot after the inspection,

differed very little from the reality. At last interest and curiosity

led her to a large painted chest. She lifted the light cover and found,

first, a few dried flowers; then a ball, round which some skilful hand

had wreathed roses and leaves, once fresh and bright, now, alas,

long ago dead and withered. Beside these were a number of amulets

in different forms, one representing the goddess of truth, another

containing spells written on a strip of papyrus and concealed in a

little golden case. Then her eyes fell on some letters written in the

Greek character. She read them by the light of the lamp. They were from

Nitetis in Persia to her supposed sister, and were written in ignorance

of the latter's illness. When Rhodopis laid them down her eyes were full

of tears. The dead girl's secret lay open before her. She knew now that

Tachot had loved Bartja, that he had given her the faded flowers, and

that she had wreathed the ball with roses because he had thrown it to

her. The amulets must have been intended either to heal her sick heart,

or to awaken love in his.

As she was putting the letters back in their old place, she touched some

cloths which seemed put in to fill up the bottom of the chest, and felt

a hard round substance underneath. She raised them, and discovered a

bust made of colored wax, such a wonderfully-exact portrait of Nitetis,

that an involuntary exclamation of surprise broke from her, and it was

long before she could turn her eyes away from Theodorus' marvellous

work.

She went to rest and fell asleep, thinking of the sad fate of Nitetis,

the Egyptian Princess.

The next morning Rhodopis went into the garden--the same into which

we led our readers during the lifetime of Amasis-and found Bartja and

Sappho in an arbor overgrown with vines.

Sappho was seated in a light wicker-work chair. Her child lay on her

lap, stretching out its little hands and feet, sometimes to its father,

who was kneeling on the ground before them, and then to its mother whose

laughing face was bent down over her little one.

Bartja was very happy with his child. When the little creature buried

its tiny fingers in his curls and beard, he would draw his head back

to feel the strength of the little hand, would kiss its rosy feet, its

little round white shoulders and dimpled arms. Sappho enjoyed the fun,

always trying to draw the little one's attention to its father.

Sometimes, when she stooped down to kiss the rosy baby lips, her

forehead would touch his curls and he would steal the kiss meant for the

little Parmys.

Rhodopis watched them a long time unperceived, and, with tears of joy in

her eyes, prayed the gods that they might long be as happy as they now

were. At last she came into the arbor to wish them good-morning, and

bestowed much praise on old Melitta for appearing at the right moment,

parasol in hand, to take her charge out of the sunshine before it became

too bright and hot, and put her to sleep.

The old slave had been appointed head-nurse to the high-born child, and

acquitted herself in her new office with an amount of importance which

was very comical. Hiding her old limbs under rich Persian robes, she

moved about exulting in the new and delightful right to command, and

kept her inferiors in perpetual motion.

Sappho followed Melitta into the palace, first whispering in her

husband's ear with her arm round his neck: "Tell my grandmother

everything and ask whether you are right."

Before he could answer, she had stopped his mouth with a kiss, and then

hurried after the old woman who was departing with dignified steps.

The prince smiled as he watched her graceful walk and beautiful figure,

and said, turning to Rhodopis: "Does not it strike you, that she has

grown taller lately."

"It seems so," answered Rhodopis. "A woman's girlhood has its own

peculiar charm, but her true dignity comes with motherhood. It is the

feeling of having fulfilled her destiny, which raises her head and makes

us fancy she has grown taller."

"Yes," said Bartja, "I think she is happy. Yesterday our opinions

differed for the first time, and as she was leaving us just now, she

begged me, privately, to lay the question before you, which I am very

glad to do, for I honor your experience and wisdom just as much, as I

love her childlike inexperience."

Bartja then told the story of the unfortunate shooting-match, finishing

with these words: "Croesus blames my imprudence, but I know my brother;

I know that when he is angry he is capable of any act of violence, and

it is not impossible that at the moment when he felt himself defeated he

could have killed me; but I know too, that when his fierce passion has

cooled, he will forget my boastful deed, and only try to excel me by

others of the same kind. A year ago he was by far the best marksman in

Persia, and would be so still, if drink and epilepsy had not undermined

his strength. I must confess I feel as if I were becoming stronger every

day."

"Yes," interrupted Rhodopis, "pure happiness strengthens a man's arm,

just as it adds to the beauty of a woman, while intemperance and mental

distress ruin both body and mind far more surely even than old age. My

son, beware of your brother; his strong arm has become paralyzed, and

his generosity can be forfeited too. Trust my experience, that the man

who is the slave of one evil passion, is very seldom master of the

rest; besides which, no one feels humiliation so bitterly as he who

is sinking--who knows that his powers are forsaking him. I say again,

beware of your brother, and trust the voice of experience more than that

of your own heart, which, because it is generous itself, believes every

one else to be so."

"I see," said Bartja, "that you will take Sappho's side. Difficult as it

will be for her to part from you, she has still begged me to return with

her to Persia. She thinks that Cambyses may forget his anger, when I

am out of sight. I thought she was over-anxious, and besides, it

would disappoint me not to take part in the expedition against the

Ethiopians."

"But I entreat you," interrupted Rhodopis, "to follow her advice. The

gods only know what pain it will give me to lose you both, and yet I

repeat a thousand times: Go back to Persia, and remember that none

but fools stake life and happiness to no purpose. As to the war

with Ethiopia, it is mere madness; instead of subduing those black

inhabitants of the south, you yourselves will be conquered by heat,

thirst and all the horrors of the desert. In saying this I refer to the

campaigns in general; as to your own share in them, I can only say that

if no fame is to be won there, you will be putting your own life and the

happiness of your family in jeopardy literally for nothing, and that if,

on the other hand, you should distinguish yourself again, it would only

be giving fresh cause of jealousy and anger to your brother. No, go to

Persia, as soon as you can."

Bartja was just beginning to make various objections to these arguments,

when he caught sight of Prexaspes coming up to them, looking very pale.

After the usual greeting, the envoy whispered to Bartja, that he should

like to speak with him alone. Rhodopis left them at once, and he began,

playing with the rings on his right hand as he spoke, in a constrained,

embarrassed way. "I come from the king. Your display of strength

irritated him yesterday, and he does not wish to see you again for some

time. His orders are, that you set out for Arabia to buy up all the

camels that are to be had.

[Camels are never represented on the Egyptian monuments, whereas

they were in great use among the Arabians and Persians, and are now

a necessity on the Nile. They must have existed in Egypt, however.

Hekekyan-Bey discovered the bones of a dromedary in a deep bore.

Representations of these creatures were probably forbid We know this

was the case with the cock, of which bird there were large numbers

in Egypt: It is remarkable, that camels were not introduced into

Barbary until after the birth of Christ.]

"As these animals can bear thirst very long, they are to be used in

conveying food and water for our army on the Ethiopian campaign. There

must be no delay. Take leave of your wife, and (I speak by the king's

command) be ready to start before dark. You will be absent at least a

month. I am to accompany you as far as Pelusium. Kassandane wishes to

have your wife and child near her during your absence. Send them to

Memphis as soon as possible; under the protection of the queen mother,

they will be in safety."

Prexaspes' short, constrained way of speaking did not strike Bartja.

He rejoiced at what seemed to him great moderation on the part of his

brother, and at receiving a commission which relieved him of all doubt

on the question of leaving Egypt, gave his friend, (as he supposed

him to be), his hand to kiss and an invitation to follow him into the

palace.

In the cool of the evening, he took a short but very affectionate

farewell of Sappho and his child, who was asleep in Melitta's arms, told

his wife to set out as soon as possible on her journey to Kassandane,

called out jestingly to his mother-in-law, that at least this time she

had been mistaken in her judgment of a man's character, (meaning his

brother's), and sprang on to his horse.

As Prexaspes was mounting, Sappho whispered to him, "Take care of that

reckless fellow, and remind him of me and his child, when you see him

running into unnecessary danger."

"I shall have to leave him at Pelusium," answered the envoy, busying

himself with the bridle of his horse in order to avoid meeting her eyes.

"Then may the gods take him into their keeping!" exclaimed Sappho,

clasping her husband's hand, and bursting into tears, which she could

not keep back. Bartja looked down and saw his usually trustful wife

in tears. He felt sadder than he had ever felt before. Stooping down

lovingly from his saddle, he put his strong arm round her waist, lifted

her up to him, and as she stood supporting herself on his foot in the

stirrup, pressed her to his heart, as if for a long last farewell. He

then let her safely and gently to the ground, took his child up to him

on the saddle, kissed and fondled the little creature, and told her

laughingly to make her mother very happy while he was away, exchanged

some warm words of farewell with Rhodopis, and then, spurring his horse

till the creature reared, dashed through the gateway of the Pharaohs'

palace, with Prexaspes at his side.

When the sound of the horses' hoofs had died away in the distance,

Sappho laid her head on her grandmother's shoulder and wept

uncontrollably. Rhodopis remonstrated and blamed, but all in vain, she

could not stop her tears.

An Egyptian Princess — Complete · 第 14 / 16 章