and public
benefactor. Whatever annoyed or displeased him he considered must be
wrong; where he disapproved he did not spare his censures, and from his
very childhood, Cambyses' reproofs had been dreaded even by the mighty.
The enthusiastic shouts of the populace, the overflowing love of his
mother and sister, and above all, the warm encomiums expressed by
Nitetis, had excited a jealousy which his pride had never allowed
hitherto. Nitetis had taken his fancy in a remarkable degree. This
daughter of a powerful monarch, like himself disdaining everything mean
and inferior, had yet acknowledged him to be her superior, and to win his
favor had not shrunk from the laborious task of mastering his native
language. These qualities, added to her peculiar style of beauty, which
excited his admiration from its rare novelty, half Egyptian half Greek,
(her mother having been a Greek), had not failed to make a deep
impression on him. But she had been liberal in her praise of Bartja; that
was enough to disturb Cambyses' mind and prepare the way for jealousy.
As he and his brother were leaving the women's apartments, Cambyses
adopted a hasty resolution and exclaimed: "You asked me just now for an
opportunity of proving your courage. I will not refuse. The Tapuri have
risen; I have sent troops to the frontier. Go to Rhagae, take the command
and show what you are worth."
"Thanks, brother," cried Bartja. "May I take my friends, Darius, Gyges
and Zopyrus with me?"
"That favor shall be granted too. I hope you will all do your duty
bravely and promptly, that you may be back in three months to join the
main army in the expedition of revenge on the Massagetae. It will take
place in spring."
"I will start to-morrow."
"Then farewell."
"If Auramazda should spare my life and I should return victorious, will
you promise to grant me one favor?"
"Yes, I will."
"Now, then, I feel confident of victory, even if I should have to stand
with a thousand men against ten thousand of the enemy." Bartja's eyes
sparkled, he was thinking of Sappho.
"Well," answered his brother, "I shall be very glad if your actions bear
out these glowing words. But stop; I have something more to say. You are
now twenty years of age; you must marry. Roxana, daughter of the noble
Hydarnes, is marriageable, and is said to be beautiful. Her birth makes
her a fitting bride for you."
"Oh! brother, do not speak of marriage; I . . ." "You must marry, for I
have
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