“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