ts with an iron sceptre; and, as if he suspected
the stability of his dominion, he exhausted their wealth by exorbitant
tributes and licentious rapine despoiled or demolished the temples of
the East; and transported to his hereditary realms the gold, the silver,
the precious marbles, the arts, and the artists of the Asiatic cities.
In the obscure picture of the calamities of the empire, [64] it is not
easy to discern the figure of Chosroes himself, to separate his actions
from those of his lieutenants, or to ascertain his personal merit in the
general blaze of glory and magnificence. He enjoyed with ostentation the
fruits of victory, and frequently retired from the hardships of war to
the luxury of the palace. But in the space of twenty-four years, he was
deterred by superstition or resentment from approaching the gates of
Ctesiphon: and his favorite residence of Artemita, or Dastagerd,
was situate beyond the Tigris, about sixty miles to the north of the
capital. [65] The adjacent pastures were covered with flocks and
herds: the paradise or park was replenished with pheasants, peacocks,
ostriches, roebucks, and wild boars, and the noble game of lions and
tigers was sometimes turned loose for the bolder pleasures of the chase.
Nine hundred and sixty elephants were maintained for the use or splendor
of the great king: his tents and baggage were carried into the field by
twelve thousand great camels and eight thousand of a smaller size; [66]
and the royal stables were filled with six thousand mules and horses,
among whom the names of Shebdiz and Barid are renowned for their speed
or beauty. [6611] Six thousand guards successively mounted before the
palace gate; the service of the interior apartments was performed by
twelve thousand slaves, and in the number of three thousand virgins, the
fairest of Asia, some happy concubine might console her master for the
age or the indifference of Sira.

The various treasures of gold, silver, gems, silks, and aromatics, were
deposited in a hundred subterraneous vaults and the chamber Badaverd
denoted the accidental gift of the winds which had wafted the spoils
of Heraclius into one of the Syrian harbors of his rival. The vice of
flattery, and perhaps of fiction, is not ashamed to compute the thirty
thousand rich hangings that adorned the walls; the forty thousand
columns of silver, or more probably of marble, and plated wood, that
supported the roof; and the thousand globes of gold suspe