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st the Hellenes shall be subdued, I will rejoice to bestow my sister upon whatsoever fortunate servant the king may deign to honour." "You hear him, lady,"--the royal features assumed a grin, which was reflected throughout the pavilion. "A husband you shall have, but Mardonius shall be revenged. Your fate is in my hands. And shall not I,--guardian of the households of my empire,--give a warning to all bold maidens against lifting their wills too proudly, or presuming upon an overindulgent king? What then shall be just punishment?" The king bent his head, still rubbing his nose, and trying to persuade all about that he was meditating. "Bardas, satrap of Sogandia, is old; he has but one eye; they say he beats his eleven wives daily with a whip of rhinoceros hide. It would be just if I gave him this woman also in marriage. What think you, Hydarnes?" "If your Eternity bestows this woman on Bardas, every husband and father in all your kingdoms will applaud your act," smiled the commander. The threatened lady fell again on her knees, outstretching her hands and beseeching mercy,--never a more charming picture of misery and contrition. "You tremble, lady," went on the sovran, "and justly. It were better for my empire if my heart were less hard. After all, you danced so elegantly that I must be mollified. There is the young Prince Zophyrus, son of Datis the general,--he has only five wives already. True, he is usually the worse for wine, is not handsome, and killed one of his women not long since because she did not sing to please him. Yes--you shall have Zophyrus--he will surely rule you--" "Mercy, not Zophyrus, gracious Lord," pleaded the abject Egyptian. The king looked down on her, with a broader grin than ever. "You are very hard to please. I ought to punish your wilfulness by some dreadful doom. Do not cry out again. I will not hear you. My decision is fixed. Mardonius shall bestow you in marriage to a man who is not even a Persian by birth, who one year since was a disobedient rebel against my power, who even now contemns and despises many of the good customs of the Aryans. Hark, then, to his name. When Hellas is conquered, I command that Mardonius wed you to the Lord Prexaspes." The king broke into an uproarious laugh, a signal for the thousand loyal subjects within the great pavilion to roar with laughter also. In the confusion following Artazostra and Roxana disappeared. Fifty hands dragged the appoi
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