bylon, at the festival of Mylitta."
"There is the same custom too on the coast of Cyprus. When I landed there
on the way back from Egypt, I was met by a troop of lovely girls, who,
with songs, dances, and the clang of cymbals, conducted me to the sacred
grove of their goddess."
"Well, Zopyrus will not grumble at Bartja's illness."
"He will spend more of his time in the grove of Cybele, than at his
patient's bedside. How glad I shall be to see that jolly fellow again!"
"Yes, he'll keep you from falling into those melancholy fits that you
have been so subject to lately." "You are quite right to blame me for
those fits, and I must not yield to them, but they are not without
ground. Croesus says we only get low-spirited, when we are either too
lazy or too weak to struggle against annoyances, and I believe he is
right. But no one shall dare to accuse Darius of weakness or idleness. If
I can't rule the world, at least I will be my own master." And as he said
these words, the handsome youth drew himself up, and sat erect in his
saddle. His companion gazed in wonder at him.
"Really, you son of Hystaspes," he said, "I believe you must be meant for
something great. It was not by chance that, when you were still a mere
child, the gods sent their favorite Cyrus that dream which induced him to
order you into safe keeping."
"And yet my wings have never appeared."
"No bodily ones, certainly; but mental ones, likely enough. Young man,
young man, you're on a dangerous road."
"Have winged creatures any need to be afraid of precipices?"
"Certainly; when their strength fails them."
"But I am strong."
"Stronger creatures than you will try to break your pinions."
"Let them. I want nothing but what is right, and shall trust to my star."
"Do you know its name?"
"It ruled in the hour of my birth, and its name is Anahita."
"I think I know better. A burning ambition is the sun, whose rays guide
all your actions. Take care; I tried that way myself once; it leads to
fame or to disgrace, but very seldom to happiness. Fame to the ambitious
is like salt water to the thirsty; the more he gets, the more he wants. I
was once only a poor soldier, and am now Cambyses' ambassador. But you,
what can you have to strive for? There is no man in the kingdom greater
than yourself, after the sons of Cyrus . . . Do my eyes deceive me?
Surely those two men riding to meet us with a troop of horsemen must be
Gyges and Zopyrus. The Angar
|