The Tales of Ancient Egypt (10 Historical Novels). Georg Ebers. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Georg Ebers
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4064066381257
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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