mulation, but actually deprive
her of consciousness!

When Nitetis left the hall, Otanes, the father of Phaedime had called
out: "The Egyptian women seem to take great interest in the love-affairs
of their brothers-in-law. The Persian women are not so generous with
their feelings; they keep them for their husbands."

Cambyses was too proud to let it be seen that he had heard these words;
like the ostrich, he feigned deafness and blindness in order not to seem
aware of the looks and murmurs of his guests, which all went to prove
that he had been deceived.

Bartja could have had no share in her perfidy; she had loved this
handsome youth, and perhaps all the more because she had not been able to
hope for a return of her love. If he had had the slightest suspicion of
his brother, he would have killed him on the spot. Bartja was certainly
innocent of any share in the deception and in his brother's misery, but
still he was the cause of all; so the old grudge, which had only just
been allowed to slumber, woke again; and, as a relapse is always more
dangerous than the original illness, the newly-roused anger was more
violent than what he had formerly felt.

He thought and thought, but he could not devise a fitting punishment for
this false woman. Her death would not content his vengeance, she must
suffer something worse than mere death!

Should he send her back to Egypt, disgraced and shamed? Oh, no! she loved
her country, and she would be received by her parents with open arms.
Should he, after she had confessed her guilt, (for he was determined to
force a confession from her) shut her up in a solitary dungeon? or should
he deliver her over to Boges, to be the servant of his concubines? Yes!
now he had hit upon the right punishment. Thus the faithless creature
should be disciplined, and the hypocrite, who had dared to make sport of
him--the All-powerful--forced to atone for her crimes.

Then he said to himself: "Bartja must not stay here; fire and water have
more in common than we two--he always fortunate and happy, and I so
miserable. Some day or other his descendants will divide my treasures,
and wear my crown; but as yet I am king, and I will show that I am."

The thought of his proud, powerful position flashed through him like
lightning. He woke from his dreams into new life, flung his golden goblet
far into the hall, so that the wine flew round like rain, and cried: "We
have had enough of this idle talk and useless