“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.”