CHAPTER XV.
On the morning after the trial of the bow, Cambyses was seized by sucha violent attack of his old illness, that he was forced to keep his roomfor two days and nights, ill in mind and body; at times raging like amadman, at others weak and powerless as a little child.
On the third day he recovered consciousness and remembered the awfulcharge he had laid on Prexaspes, and that it was only too possible hemight have executed it already. At this thought he trembled, as hehad never trembled in his life before. He sent at once for the envoy'seldest son, who was one of the royal cup-bearers. The boy said hisfather had left Memphis, without taking leave of his family. He thensent for Darius, Zopyrus and Gyges, knowing how tenderly they lovedBartja, and enquired after their friend. On hearing from them that hewas at Sais, he sent the three youths thither at once, charging them,if they met Prexaspes on the way, to send him back to Memphiswithout delay. This haste and the king's strange behavior were quiteincomprehensible to the young Achaemenidae; nevertheless they set out ontheir journey with all speed, fearing that something must be wrong.
Cambyses, meanwhile, was miserably restless, inwardly cursed his habitof drinking and tasted no wine the whole of that clay. Seeing his motherin the palace-gardens, he avoided her; he durst not meet her eye.
The next eight days passed without any sign of Prexaspes' return; theyseemed to the king like a year. A hundred times he sent for the youngcup-bearer and asked if his father had returned; a hundred times hereceived the same disappointing answer.
At sunset on the thirteenth day, Kassandane sent to beg a visit fromhim. The king went at once, for now he longed to look on the face of hismother; he fancied it might give him back his lost sleep.
After he had greeted her with a tenderness so rare from him, that itastonished her, he asked for what reason she had desired his presence.She answered, that Bartja's wife had arrived at Memphis under singularcircumstances and had said she wished to present a gift to Cambyses. Hegave Sappho an audience at once, and heard from her that Prexaspes hadbrought her husband an order to start for Arabia, and herself a summonsto Memphis from the queen-mother. At these words the king turned verypale, and his features were agitated with pain as he looked at hisbrother's lovely young wife. She felt that something unusual was passingin his mind, and such dreadful forebodings arose in her own, that shecould only offer him the gift in silence and with trembling hands.
"My husband sends you this," she said, pointing to theingeniously-wrought box, which contained the wax likeness of Nitetis.Rhodopis had advised her to take this to the king in Bartja's name, as apropitiatory offering.
Cambyses showed no curiosity as to the contents of the box, gave it incharge to a eunuch, said a few words which seemed meant as thanks to hissister-in law, and left the women's apartments without even so much asenquiring after Atossa, whose existence he seemed to have forgotten.
He had come to his mother, believing that the visit would comfort andcalm his troubled mind, but Sappho's words had destroyed his last hope,and with that his last possibility of rest or peace. By this time eitherPrexaspes would already have committed the murder, or perhaps at thatvery moment might be raising his dagger to plunge it into Bartja'sheart.
How could he ever meet his mother again after Bartja's death? how couldhe answer her questions or those of that lovely Sappho, whose large,anxious, appealing eyes had touched him so strangely?
A voice within told him, that his brother's murder would be branded asa cowardly, unnatural, and unjust deed, and he shuddered at the thought.It seemed fearful, unbearable, to be called an assassin. He had alreadycaused the death of many a man without the least compunction, but thathad been done either in fair fight, or openly before the world. He wasking, and what the king did was right. Had he killed Bartja with his ownhand, his conscience would not have reproached him; but to have hadhim privately put out of the way, after he had given so many proofsof possessing first-rate manly qualities, which deserved the highestpraise--this tortured him with a feeling of rage at his own want ofprinciple,-a feeling of shame and remorse which he had never knownbefore. He began to despise himself. The consciousness of having acted,and wished to act justly, forsook him, and he began to fancy, thatevery one who had been executed by his orders, had been, like Bartja,an innocent victim of his fierce anger. These thoughts became sointolerable, that he began to drink once more in the hope of drowningthem. But now the wine had precisely the opposite effect, and broughtsuch tormenting thoughts, that, worn out as he was already by epilepticfits and his habit of drinking, both body and mind threatened to giveway to the agitation caused by the events of the last months. Burningand shivering by turns, he was at last forced to lie down. While theattendants were disrobing him, he remembered his brother's present,had the box fetched and opened, and then desired to be left alone. TheEgyptian paintings on the outside of the box reminded him of Nitetis,and then he asked himself what she would have said to his deed. Feverhad already begun, and his mind was wandering as he took the beautifulwax bust out of the box. He stared in horror at the dull, immovableeyes. The likeness was so perfect, and his judgment so weakened by wineand fever, that he fancied himself the victim of some spell, and yetcould not turn his eyes from those dear features. Suddenly the eyesseemed to move. He was seized with terror, and, in a kind of convulsion,hurled what he thought had become a living head against the wall. Thehollow, brittle wax broke into a thousand fragments, and Cambyses sankback on to his bed with a groan.
From that moment the fever increased. In his delirium the banishedPhanes appeared, singing a scornful Greek song and deriding him insuch infamous words, that his fists clenched with rage. Then he saw hisfriend and adviser, Croesus, threatening him in the very same words ofwarning, which he had used when Bartja had been sentenced to deathby his command on account of Nitetis: "Beware of shedding a brother'sblood; the smoke thereof will rise to heaven and become a cloud,that must darken the days of the murderer, and at last cast down thelightnings of heaven upon his head."
And in his delirious fancy this figure of speech became a reality. Arain of blood streamed down upon him from dark clouds; his clothes andhands were wet with the loathsome moisture. He went down to the Nile tocleanse himself, and suddenly saw Nitetis coming towards him. She hadthe same sweet smile with which Theodorus had modelled her. Enchantedwith this lovely vision, he fell down before her and took her hand, buthe had scarcely touched it, when drops of blood appeared at the tips ofher delicate fingers, and she turned away from him with every signof horror. He humbly implored her to forgive him and come back; sheremained inexorable. He grew angry, and threatened her, first with hiswrath, and then with awful punishments. At last, as she only answeredhis threats by a low scornful laugh, he ventured to throw his dagger ather. She crumbled at once into a thousand pieces, like the wax statue.But the derisive laughter echoed on, and became louder. Many voicesjoined in it, each trying to outbid the other. And the voices of Bartjaand Nitetis were the loudest,--their tone the most bitter. At last hecould bear these fearful sounds no longer and stopped his ears; this wasof no use, and he buried his head, first in the glowing desert-sandand then in the icy cold Nile-water, until his senses forsook him. Onawaking, the actual state of things seemed incomprehensible to him. Hehad gone to bed in the evening, and yet he now saw, by the direction ofthe sun's rays which fell on his bed, that, instead of dawning as he hadexpected, the day was growing dark. There could be no mistake; he heardthe chorus of priests singing farewell to the setting Mithras.
Then he heard a number of people moving behind a curtain, which had beenhung up at the head of his bed. He tried to turn in his bed, but couldnot; he was too weak. At last, finding it impossible to discover whetherhe was in real life or still in a dream, he called for his dressersand the courtiers, who were accustomed to be present when he rose. Theyappeared in a moment, and with them his mother, Prexaspes, a number ofthe learned among the Magi, and some Egyptians who were unknown to him.They told him, that he had been lying in a violent f
ever for weeks, andhad only escaped death by the special mercy of the gods, the skillof the physicians, and the unwearied nursing of his mother. He lookedenquiringly first at Kassandane, then at Prexaspes, lost consciousnessagain, and fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke the next morningwith renewed strength.
In four days he was strong enough to sit up and able to questionPrexaspes on the only subject, which occupied his thoughts.
In consideration of his master's weakness the envoy was beginning anevasive reply, when a threatening movement of the king's gaunt, wornhand, and a look which had by no means lost its old power of awing intosubmission, brought him to the point at once, and in the hope of givingthe king a great pleasure and putting his mind completely at rest,he began: "Rejoice, O King! the youth, who dared to desire thedisparagement of thy glory, is no more. This hand slew him and buriedhis body at Baal-Zephon. The sand of the desert and the unfruitful wavesof the Red Sea were the only witnesses of the deed; and no creatureknows thereof beside thyself, O King, thy servant Prexaspes, and thegulls and cormorants, that hover over his grave."
The king uttered a piercing shriek of rage, was seized by a freshshivering-fit, and sank back once more in raving delirium.
Long weeks passed, every day of which threatened its death. At last,however, his strong constitution gained the day, but his mind had givenway, and remained disordered and weak up to his last hour.
When he was strong enough to leave the sick-room and to ride and shootonce more, he abandoned himself more than ever to the pleasure ofdrinking, and lost every remnant of self-control.
The delusion had fixed itself in his disordered mind, that Bartja wasnot dead, but transformed into the bow of the King of Ethiopia, andthat the Feruer (soul) of his father Cyrus had commanded him to restoreBartja to its original form, by subjugating the black nation.
This idea, which he confided to every one about him as a great secret,pursued him day and night and gave him no rest, until he had started forEthiopia with an immense host. He was forced, however, to return withouthaving accomplished his object, after having miserably lost the greaterpart of his army by heat and the scarcity of provisions. An historian,who may almost be spoken of as contemporary, tells us that the wretchedsoldiers, after having subsisted on herbs as long as they could, cameto deserts where there was no sign of vegetation, and in their despairresorted to an expedient almost too fearful to describe. Lots were drawnby every ten men, and he on whom the lot fell was killed and eaten bythe other nine.
[Herodotus visited Egypt some 60 years after the death of Cambyses, 454 B.C. He describes the Ethiopian campaign, III. 25.]
At last things went so far, that his subjects compelled this madman toreturn, but only, with their slavish Asiatic feelings, to obey him allthe more blindly, when they found themselves once more in inhabitedregions.
On reaching Memphis with the wreck of his army, he found the Egyptiansin glorious apparel celebrating a festival. They had found a new Apisand were rejoicing over the reappearance of their god, incarnate in thesacred bull.
As Cambyses had heard at Thebes, that the army he had sent againstthe oasis of Ammon in the Libyan desert, had perished miserably in aKhamsin, or Simoom, and that his fleet, which was to conquer Carthage,had refused to fight with a people of their own race, he fancied thatthe Memphians must be celebrating a festival of joy at the news of hismisfortunes, sent for their principal men, and after reproaching themwith their conduct, asked why they had been gloomy and morose afterhis victories, but joyous at hearing of his misfortunes. The Memphiansanswered by explaining the real ground for their merry-making, and toldhim, that the appearance of the sacred bull was always celebrated inEgypt with the greatest rejoicings. Cambyses called them liars, and, assuch, sentenced them to death. He then sent for the priests; received,however, exactly the same answer from them.
With the bitterest irony he asked to be allowed to make the acquaintanceof this new god, and commanded them to bring him. The bull Apis wasbrought and the king told that he was the progeny of a virgin cow anda moonbeam, that he must be black, with a white triangular spot on theforehead, the likeness of an eagle on his back, and on his side thecrescent moon. There must be two kinds of hair on his tail, and on histongue an excrescence in the form of the sacred beetle Scarabaeus.
When Cambyses saw this deified creature he could discover nothingremarkable in him, and was so enraged that he plunged his sword into itsside. As the blood streamed from the wound and the animal fell, he brokeout into a piercing laugh, and cried: "Ye fools! so your gods are fleshand blood; they can be wounded. Such folly is worthy of you. But yeshall find, that it is not so easy to make a fool of me. Ho, guards!flog these priests soundly, and kill every one whom you find takingpart in this mad celebration." The command was obeyed and fearfullyexasperated the Egyptians.
[According to Herod. III. 29. Cambyses' sword slipped and ran into the leg of the sacred bull. As the king died also of a wound in the thigh, this just suits Herodotus, who always tries to put the retribution that comes after presumptuous crime in the strongest light; but it is very unlikely that the bull should have died of a mere thigh wound.]
Apis died of his wound; the Memphians buried him secretly in the vaultsbelonging to the sacred bulls, near the Serapeum, and, led by Psamtik,attempted an insurrection against the Persians. This was very quicklyput down, however, and cost Psamtik his life,--a life the stains andseverities of which deserve to be forgiven, in consideration of hisunwearied, ceaseless efforts to deliver his people from a foreign yoke,and his death in the cause of freedom.
Cambyses' madness had meanwhile taken fresh forms. After the failure ofhis attempt to restore Bartja, (transformed as he fancied into a bow)to his original shape, his irritability increased so frightfully that asingle word, or even a look, was sufficient to make him furious. Stillhis true friend and counsellor, Croesus, never left him, though the kinghad more than once given him over to the guards for execution. But theguards knew their master; they took good care not to lay hands onthe old man, and felt sure of impunity, as the king would either haveforgotten his command, or repented of it by the next day, Once, however,the miserable whip bearers paid a fearful penalty for their lenity.Cambyses, while rejoicing that Croesus was saved, ordered his deliverersto be executed for disobedience without mercy.
It would be repugnant to us to repeat all the tales of barbarouscruelties, which are told of Cambyses at this insane period of hislife; but we cannot resist mentioning a few which seem to us especiallycharacteristic.
While sitting at table one day, already somewhat intoxicated, he askedPrexaspes what the Persians thought of him. The envoy, who in hopesof deadening his tormenting conscience by the performance of noble anddangerous acts, let no opportunity pass of trying to exercise a goodinfluence over his sovereign, answered that they extolled him on everypoint, but thought he was too much addicted to wine.
These words, though spoken half in jest, put the king into a violentpassion, and he almost shrieked: "So the Persians say, that the winehas taken away my senses, do they? on the contrary, I'll show them thatthey've lost their own." And as he spoke he bent his bow, took aim for amoment at Prexaspes' eldest son, who, as cup-bearer, was standing at theback of the hall waiting for and watching every look of his sovereign,and shot him in the breast. He then gave orders that the boy's bodyshould be opened and examined. The arrow had pierced the centre of hisheart. This delighted the senseless tyrant, and he called out with alaugh: "Now you see, Prexaspes, it's the Persians who have lost theirjudgment, not I. Could any one have hit the mark better?"
Prexaspes stood there, pale and motionless, compelled to watch thehorrid scene, like Niobe when chained to Sipylus. His servile spiritbowed before the ruler's power, instead of arming his right hand withthe dagger of revenge, and when the frantic king asked him the samequestion a second time, he actually answered, pressing his hand on hisheart: "A god could not have hit the mark more exactly."
A few weeks after this, the king w
ent to Sais, and there was shown therooms formerly occupied by his bride. This brought back all the oldpainful recollections in full force, and at the same time his cloudedmemory reminded him, though without any clearness of detail, that Amasishad deceived both Nitetis and himself. He cursed the dead king andfuriously demanded to be taken to the temple of Neith, where his mummywas laid. There he tore the embalmed body out of its sarcophagus, causedit to be scourged, to be stabbed with pins, had the hair torn off andmaltreated it in every possible way. In conclusion, and contrary to theancient Persian religious law, which held the pollution of pure fire bycorpses to be a deadly sin, he caused Amasis' dead body to be burnt,and condemned the mummy of his first wife, which lay in a sarcophagus atThebes, her native place, to the same fate.
On his return to Memphis, Cambyses did not shrink from personallyill-treating his wife and sister, Atossa.
He had ordered a combat of wild beasts to take place, during which,amongst other entertainments of the same kind, a dog was to fight with ayoung lion. The lion had conquered his antagonist, when another dog, thebrother of the conquered one, broke away from his chain, attacked thelion, and with the help of the wounded dog, vanquished him.
This scene delighted Cambyses, but Kassandane and Atossa, who had beenforced by the king's command to be present, began to weep aloud.
The tyrant was astonished, and on asking the reason for their tears,received as answer from the impetuous Atossa, that the brave creaturewho had risked its own life to save its brother, reminded her of Bartja.She would not say by whom he had been murdered, but his murder had neverbeen avenged.
These words so roused the king's anger, and so goaded his conscience,that in a fit of insane fury he struck the daring woman, and mightpossibly have killed her, if his mother had not thrown herself into hisarms and exposed her own body to his mad blows.
Her voice and action checked his rage, for he had not lost reverence forhis mother; but her look of intense anger and contempt, which heclearly saw and could not forget, begot a fresh delusion in his mind.He believed from that moment, that the eyes of women had power to poisonhim; he started and hid himself behind his companions whenever he sawa woman, and at last commanded that all the female inhabitants of thepalace at Memphis, his mother not excepted, should be sent back toEcbatana. Araspes and Gyges were appointed to be their escort thither.
......................
The caravan of queens and princesses had arrived at Sais; they alightedat the royal palace. Croesus had accompanied them thus far on their wayfrom Egypt.
Kassandane had altered very much during the last few years. Grief andsuffering had worn deep lines in her once beautiful face, though theyhad had no power to bow her stately figure.
Atossa, on the contrary, was more beautiful than ever, notwithstandingall she had suffered. The refractory and impetuous child, the daringspirited girl, had developed into a dignified, animated and determinedwoman. The serious side of life, and three sad years passed with herungovernable husband and brother, had been first-rate masters in theschool of patience, but they had not been able to alienate her heartfrom her first love. Sappho's friendship had made up to her in somemeasure for the loss of Darius.
The young Greek had become another creature, since the mysteriousdeparture of her husband. Her rosy color and her lovely smile were bothgone. But she was wonderfully beautiful, in spite of her paleness, herdowncast eyelashes and languid attitude. She looked like Ariadne waitingfor Theseus. Longing and expectation lay in every look, in the low toneof her voice, in her measured walk. At the sound of approaching steps,the opening of a door or the unexpected tones of a man's voice, shewould start, get up and listen, and then sink back into the old waiting,longing attitude, disappointed but not hopeless. She began to dreamagain, as she had been so fond of doing in her girlish days.
She was her old self only when playing with her child. Then the colorcame back to her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, she seemed once more to livein the present, and not only in the past or future.
Her child was everything to her. In that little one Bartja seemed tobe still alive, and she could love the child with all her heart andstrength, without taking one iota from her love to him. With this littlecreature the gods had mercifully given her an aim in life and a linkwith the lower world, the really precious part of which had seemed tovanish with her vanished husband. Sometimes, as she looked into herbaby's blue eyes, so wonderfully like Bartja's, she thought: Why wasnot she born a boy? He would have grown more like his father from day today, and at last, if such a thing indeed could ever be, a second Bartjawould have stood before me.
But such thoughts generally ended soon in her pressing the little onecloser than ever to her heart, and blaming herself for ingratitude andfolly.
One day Atossa put the same idea in words, exclaiming: "If Parmys wereonly a boy! He would have grown up exactly like his father, and havebeen a second Cyrus for Persia." Sappho smiled sadly at her friend, andcovered the little one with kisses, but Kassandane said: "Be thankfulto the gods, my child, for having given you a daughter. If Parmys werea boy, he would be taken from you as soon as he had reached his sixthyear, to be brought up with the sons of the other Achaemenidae, but yourdaughter will remain your own for many years."
Sappho trembled at the mere thought of parting from her child; shepressed its little fair curly head close to her breast, and never found,fault with her treasure again for being a girl.
Atossa's friendship was a great comfort to her poor wounded heart. Withher she could speak of Bartja as much and as often as she would, and wasalways certain of a kind and sympathizing listener. Atossa had lovedher vanished brother very dearly. And even a stranger would have enjoyedhearing Sappho tell of her past happiness. Her words rose into realeloquence in speaking of those bright days; she seemed like an inspiredpoetess. Then she would take her lyre, and with her clear, sweet,plaintive voice sing the love-songs of the elder Sappho, in which allher own deepest feelings were so truly expressed, and fancy herselfonce more with her lover sitting under the sweet-scented acanthus in thequiet night, and forget the sad reality of her present life. And when,with a deep sigh, she laid aside the lyre and came back out of thisdream-kingdom, the tears were always to be seen in Kassandane's eyes,though she did not understand the language in which Sappho had beensinging, and Atossa would bend down and kiss her forehead.
Thus three long years had passed, during which Sappho had seldom seenher grandmother, for, as the mother of Parmys, she was by the king'scommand, forbidden to leave the harem, unless permitted and accompaniedeither by Kassandane or the eunuchs.
On the present occasion Croesus, who had always loved, and loved herstill, like a daughter, had sent for Rhodopis to Sais. He, as well asKassandane, understood her wish to take leave of this, her dearestand most faithful friend, before setting out for Persia; besides whichKassandane had a great wish to see one in whose praise she had heard somuch. When Sappho's tender and sad farewell was over therefore, Rhodopiswas summoned to the queen-mother.
A stranger, who saw these two women together, would have thought bothwere queens; it was impossible to decide which of the two had most rightto the title.
Croesus, standing as he did in as close a relation to the one as to theother, undertook the office of interpreter, and the ready intellect ofRhodopis helped him to carry on an uninterrupted flow of conversation.
Rhodopis, by her own peculiar attractions, soon won the heart ofKassandane, and the queen knew no better way of proving this than byoffering, in Persian fashion, to grant her some wish.
Rhodopis hesitated a moment; then raising her hands as if in prayer, shecried: "Leave me my Sappho, the consolation and beauty of my old age."
Kassandane smiled sadly. "It is not in my power to grant that wish,"she answered. "The laws of Persia command, that the children of theAchaemenidae shall be brought up at the king's gate. I dare not allowthe little Parmys, Cyrus' only grandchild, to leave me, and, much asSappho loves you, you know she would not part from
her child. Indeed,she has become so dear to me now, and to my daughter, that though I wellunderstand your wish to have her, I could never allow Sappho to leaveus."
Seeing that Rhodopis' eyes were filling with tears, Kassandane went on:"There is, however, a good way out of our perplexity. Leave Naukratis,and come with us to Persia. There you can spend your last years withus and with your granddaughter, and shall be provided with a royalmaintenance."
Rhodopis shook her head, hoary but still so beautiful, and answered ina suppressed voice: "I thank you, noble queen, for this graciousinvitation, but I feel unable to accept it. Every fibre of my heartis rooted in Greece, and I should be tearing my life out by leaving itforever. I am so accustomed to constant activity, perfect freedom, anda stirring exchange of thought, that I should languish and die in theconfinement of a harem. Croesus had already prepared me for the graciousproposal you have just made, and I have had a long and difficult battleto fight, before I could decide on resigning my dearest blessing for myhighest good. It is not easy, but it is glorious, it is more worthy ofthe Greek name--to live a good and beautiful life, than a happy one--tofollow duty rather than pleasure. My heart will follow Sappho, but myintellect and experience belong to the Greeks; and if you should everhear that the people of Hellas are ruled by themselves alone, by theirown gods, their own laws, the beautiful and the good, then you will knowthat the work on which Rhodopis, in league with the noblest and best ofher countrymen, has staked her life, is accomplished. Be not angrywith the Greek woman, who confesses that she would rather die free asa beggar than live in bondage as a queen, though envied by the wholeworld."
Kassandane listened in amazement. She only understood part of whatRhodopis had said, but felt that she had spoken well and nobly, andat the conclusion gave her her hand to kiss. After a short pause,Kassandane said: "Do what you think right, and remember, that as long asI and my daughter live, your granddaughter will never want for true andfaithful love."
"Your noble countenance and the fame of your great virtue are warrantenough for that." answered Rhodopis.
"And also," added the queen, "the duty which lies upon me to make goodthe wrong, that has been done your Sappho."
She sighed painfully and went on: "The little Parmys shall be carefullyeducated. She seems to have much natural talent, and can sing the songsof her native country already after her mother. I shall do nothing tocheck her love of music, though, in Persia the religious services arethe only occasions in which that art is studied by any but the lowerclasses."
At these words Rhodopis' face glowed. "Will you permit me to speakopenly, O Queen?" she said. "Speak without fear," was Kassandane'sanswer. "When you sighed so painfully just now in speaking of your dearlost son, I thought: Perhaps that brave young hero might have been stillliving, if the Persians had understood better how to educate their sons.Bartja told me in what that education consisted. To shoot, throw thespear, ride, hunt, speak the truth, and perhaps also to distinguishbetween the healing and noxious properties of certain plants: that isdeemed a sufficient educational provision for a man's life. The Greekboys are just as carefully kept to the practice of exercises forhardening and bracing the body; for these exercises are the founders andpreservers of health, the physician is only its repairer and restorer.If, however, by constant practice a Greek youth were to attain to thestrength of a bull, the truth of the Deity, and the wisdom of the mostlearned Egyptian priest, we should still look down upon him were hewanting in two things which only early example and music, combined withthese bodily exercises, can give: grace and symmetry. You smile becauseyou do not understand me, but I can prove to you that music, which, fromwhat Sappho tells me, is not without its moving power for your heart, isas important an element in education as gymnastics, and, strange as itmay sound, has an equal share in effecting the perfection of both bodyand mind. The man who devotes his attention exclusively to music will,if he be of a violent disposition, lose his savage sternness at first;he will become gentle and pliable as metal in the fire. But at last hiscourage will disappear too; his passionate temper will have changed intoirritability, and he will be of little worth as a warrior, the callingand character most desired in your country. If, on the other hand, heconfines himself to gymnastics only, he will, like Cambyses, excel inmanliness and strength; but his mind--here my comparison ceases--willremain obtuse and blind, his perceptions will be confused, He will notlisten to reason, but will endeavor to carry everything by force, and,lacking grace and proportion, his life will probably become a successionof rude and violent deeds. On this account we conclude that music isnecessary not only for the mind, and gymnastics not only for thebody, but that both, working together, elevate and soften the mind andstrengthen the body--give manly grace, and graceful manliness."
[The fundamental ideas of this speech are drawn from Plato's ideal "State."]
After a moment's pause Rhodopis went on: "The youth who has not receivedsuch an education, whose roughness has never been checked even inchildhood, who has been allowed to vent his temper on every one,receiving flattery in return and never hearing reproof; who has beenallowed to command before he has learnt to obey, and who has beenbrought up in the belief that splendor, power and riches are the highestgood, can never possibly attain to the perfect manhood, which we beseechthe gods to grant our boys. And if this unfortunate being happens tohave been born with an impetuous disposition, ungovernable and eagerpassions, these will be only nourished and increased by bodily exerciseunaccompanied by the softening influence of music, so that at lasta child, who possibly came into the world with good qualities,will, merely through the defects in his education, degenerate into adestructive animal, a sensual self-destroyer, and a mad and furioustyrant."
Rhodopis had become animated with her subject. She ceased, saw tearsin the eyes of the queen, and felt that she had gone too far and hadwounded a mother's heart,--a heart full of noble feeling. She touchedher robe, kissed its border, and said softly: "Forgive me."
Kassandane looked her forgiveness, courteously saluted Rhodopis andprepared to leave the room. On the threshold, however, she stoppedand said: "I am not angry. Your reproaches are just; but you too mustendeavor to forgive, for I can assure you that he who has murdered thehappiness of your child and of mine, though the most powerful, is of allmortals the most to be pitied. Farewell! Should you ever stand in needof ought, remember Cyrus' widow, and how she wished to teach you, thatthe virtues the Persians desire most in their children are magnanimityand liberality."
After saying this she left the apartment.
On the same day Rhodopis heard that Phanes was dead. He had retired toCrotona in the neighborhood of Pythagoras and there passed his time inreflection, dying with the tranquillity of a philosopher.
She was deeply affected at this news and said to Croesus: "Greece haslost one of her ablest men, but there are many, who will grow up to behis equals. The increasing power of Persia causes me no fear; indeed, Ibelieve that when the barbarous lust of conquest stretches out its handtowards us, our many-headed Greece will rise as a giant with one head ofdivine power, before which mere barbaric strength must bow as surely asbody before spirit."
Three days after this, Sappho said farewell for the last time to hergrandmother, and followed the queens to Persia. Notwithstanding theevents which afterwards took place, she continued to believe that Bartjawould return, and full of love, fidelity and tender remembrance, devotedherself entirely to the education of her child and the care of her agedmother-in-law, Kassandane.
Little Parmys became very beautiful, and learnt to love the memoryof her vanished father next to the gods of her native land, for hermother's tales had brought him as vividly before her as if he had beenstill alive and present with them.
Atossa's subsequent good fortune and happiness did not cool herfriendship. She always called Sappho her sister. The hanging-gardenswere the latter's residence in summer, and in her conversations therewith Kassandane and Atossa one name was often mentioned--the name ofher, who had been the
innocent cause of events which had decided thedestinies of great kingdoms and noble lives--the Egyptian Princess.