and was at the head of an army which numbered sixty thousand men.  Kobad treated him with marked favor; but still he occupied a position almost beyond that of a subject, and one which could not fail to render him an object of fear and suspicion.  For the present, however, though he may have nurtured ambitious thoughts, he made no movement, but bided his time, remaining quietly in his province, and cultivating friendly relations with the Roman emperor.

Kobad had not been seated on the throne many months when he consented to a deed by which his character for justice and clemency was seriously compromised, if not wholly lost.  This was the general massacre of all the other sons of Chosroes II., his own brothers or half-brothers—­a numerous body, amounting to forty according to the highest estimate, and to fifteen according to the lowest.  We are not told of any circumstances of peril to justify the deed, or even account for it.  There have been Oriental dynasties, where such a wholesale murder upon the accession of a sovereign has been a portion of the established system of government, and others where the milder but little less revolting expedient has obtained of blinding all the brothers of the reigning prince; but neither practice was in vogue among the Sassanians; and we look vainly for the reason which caused an act of the kind to be resorted to at this conjuncture.  Mirkhond says that Piruz, the chief minister of Kobad, advised the deed; but even he assigns no motive for the massacre, unless a motive is implied in the statement that the brothers of Kobad were “all of them distinguished by their talents and their merit.”  Politically speaking, the measure might have been harmless, had Kobad enjoyed a long reign, and left behind him a number of sons.  But as it was, the rash act, by almost extinguishing the race of Sassan, produced troubles which greatly helped to bring the empire into a condition of hopeless exhaustion and weakness.

While thus destroying all his brothers, Kobad allowed his sisters to live.  Of these there were two, still unmarried, who resided in the palace, and had free access to the monarch.  Their names were Purandocht and Azermidocht, Purandocht being the elder.  Bitterly grieved at the loss of their kindred, these two princesses rushed into the royal presence, and reproached the king with words that cut him to the soul.  “Thy ambition of ruling,” they said, “has induced thee to kill thy father and thy brothers.  Thou hast accomplished thy purpose within the space of three or four months.  Thou hast hoped thereby to preserve thy power forever.  Even, however, if thou shouldst live long, thou must die at last.  May God deprive thee of the enjoyment of this royalty!” His sisters’ words sank deep into the king’s mind.  He acknowledged their justice, burst into tears, and flung his crown on the ground.  After this he fell into a profound melancholy, ceased to care for the exercise of power, and in a short time