The Tales of Ancient Egypt (10 Historical Novels). Georg Ebers

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СКАЧАТЬ was worthy the widow of the great and good Cyrus.

      On a low seat at her feet, drawing long threads from a golden spindle, sat the queen’s youngest child Atossa, born to her late in life. Cambyses was standing before her, and behind, hardly visible in the dim light, Nebenchari, the Egyptian oculist.

      As Nitetis entered, Cambyses came towards her and led her to his mother. The daughter of Amasis fell on her knees before this venerable woman, and kissed her hand with real affection.

      “Be welcome here!” exclaimed the blind queen, feeling her way to the young girl’s head, on which she laid her hand, “I have heard much in your praise, and hope to gain in you a dear and loving daughter.”

      Nitetis kissed the gentle, delicate hand again, saying in a low voice: “O how I thank you for these words! Will you, the wife of the great Cyrus, permit me to call you mother? My tongue has been so long accustomed to this sweet word; and now after long weeks of silence, I tremble with joy at the thought that I may say ‘my mother’ once more! I will indeed try to deserve your love and kindness; and you—you will be to me all that your loving countenance seems to promise? Advise and teach me; let me find a refuge at your feet, if sometimes the longing for home becomes too strong, and my poor heart too weak to bear its grief or joy alone. Oh, be my mother! that one word includes all else!”

      The blind queen felt the warm tears fall on her hand; she pressed her lips kindly on the weeping girl’s forehead, and answered: “I can understand your feelings. My apartments shall be always open to you, my heart ready to welcome you here. Come when you will, and call me your mother with the same perfect confidence with which I, from my whole heart, name you my daughter. In a few months you will be my son’s wife, and then the gods may grant you that gift, which, by implanting within you the feelings of a mother, will prevent you from feeling the need of one.”

      “May Ormuszd hear and give his blessing!” said Cambyses. “I rejoice, mother, that my wife pleases you, and I know that when once she becomes familiar with our manners and customs she will be happy here. If Nitetis pay due heed, our marriage can be celebrated in four months.”

      “But the law—” began his mother.

      “I command—in four months, and should like to see him who dare raise an objection. Farewell! Nebenchari, use your best skill for the queen’s eyes, and if my wife permit, you, as her countryman, may visit her to-morrow. Farewell! Bartja sends his parting greetings. He is on the road to the Tapuri.”

      Atossa wiped away a tear in silence, but Kassandane answered: “You would have done well to allow the boy to remain here a few months longer. Your commander, Megabyzus, could have subdued that small nation alone.”

      “Of that I have no doubt,” replied the king, “but Bartja desired an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the field; and for that reason I sent him.”

      “Would he not gladly have waited until the war with the Massageta; where more glory might be gained?” asked the blind woman.

      “Yes,” said Atossa, “and if he should fall in this war, you will have deprived him of the power of fulfilling his most sacred duty, of avenging the soul of our father!”

      “Be silent!” cried Cambyses in an overbearing tone, “or I shall have to teach you what is becoming in women and children. Bartja is on far too good terms with fortune to fall in the war. He will live, I hope, to deserve the love which is now so freely flung into his lap like an alms.”

      “How canst thou speak thus?” cried Kassandane. “In what manly virtue is Bartja wanting? Is it his fault, that he has had no such opportunity of distinguishing himself in the field as thou hast had? You are the king and I am bound to respect your commands, but I blame my son for depriving his blind mother of the greatest joy left to her in her old age. Bartja would have gladly remained here until the Massagetan war, if your self-will had not determined otherwise.”

      “And what I will is good!” exclaimed Cambyses interrupting his mother, and pale with anger, “I desire that this subject be not mentioned again.”

      So saying, he left the room abruptly and went into the reception-hall, followed by the immense retinue which never quitted him, whithersoever he might direct his steps.

      An hour passed, and still Nitetis and the lovely Atossa were sitting side by side, at the feet of the queen. The Persian women listened eagerly to all their new friend could tell them about Egypt and its wonders.

      “Oh! how I should like to visit your home!” exclaimed Atossa. “It must be quite, quite different from Persia and everything else that I have seen yet. The fruitful shores of your great river, larger even than the Euphrates, the temples with their painted columns, those huge artificial mountains, the Pyramids, where the ancient kings be buried—it must all be wonderfully beautiful. But what pleases me best of all is your description of the entertainments, where men and women converse together as they like. The only meals we are allowed to take in the society of men are on New Year’s Day and the king’s birthday, and then we are forbidden to speak; indeed it is not thought right for us even to raise our eyes. How different it is with you! By Mithras! mother, I should like to be an Egyptian, for we poor creatures are in reality nothing but miserable slaves; and yet I feel that the great Cyrus was my father too, and that I am worth quite as much as most men. Do I not speak the truth? can I not obey as well as command? have I not the same thirst and longing for glory? could not I learn to ride, to string a bow, to fight and swim, if I were taught and inured to such exercises?”

      The girl had sprung from her seat while speaking, her eyes flashed and she swung her spindle in the air, quite unconscious that in so doing she was breaking the thread and entangling the flax.

      “Remember what is fitting,” reminded Kassandane. “A woman must submit with humility to her quiet destiny, and not aspire to imitate the deeds of men.”

      “But there are women who lead the same lives as men,” cried Atossa. “There are the Amazons who live on the shores of the Thermodon in Themiscyra, and at Comana on the Iris; they have waged great wars, and even to this day wear men’s armor.”

      “Who told you this?”

      “My old nurse, Stephanion, whom my father brought a captive from Sinope to Pasargadae.”

      “But I can teach you better,” said Nitetis. “It is true that in Themiscyra and Comana there are a number of women who wear soldier’s armor; but they are only priestesses, and clothe themselves like the warlike goddess they serve, in order to present to the worshippers a manifestation of the divinity in human form. Croesus says that an army of Amazons has never existed, but that the Greeks, (always ready and able to turn anything into a beautiful myth), having seen these priestesses, at once transformed the armed virgins dedicated to the goddess into a nation of fighting women.”

      “Then they are liars!” exclaimed the disappointed girl.

      “It is true, that the Greeks have not the same reverence for truth as you have,” answered Nitetis, “but they do not call the men who invent these beautiful stories liars; they are called poets.”

      “Just as it is with ourselves,” said Kassandane. “The poets, who sing the praises of my husband, have altered and adorned his early life in a marvellous manner; yet no one calls them liars. But tell me, my daughter, is it true that these Greeks are more beautiful than other men, and understand art better even than the Egyptians?”

      “On that subject I should not venture to pronounce a judgment. There is such a great difference between the Greek and Egyptian СКАЧАТЬ