all—­had kept the jewels!  No sooner had I ordered the slaves to make a fire and prepare food, than the impudent jewel-dealer appeared and demanded his money.  I refused again, passed another solitary night, and in the morning sacrificed ten talents for the sake of peace.  Since that time harmony and peace among my beloved wives seems to me as much to be feared as the evil Divs themselves, and I see their little quarrels with the greatest pleasure.”

“Poor Zopyrus!” cried Bartja.

“Why poor?” asked this five-fold husband.  “I tell you I am much happier than you are.  My wives are young and charming, and when they grow old, what is to hinder me from taking others, still handsomer, and who, by the side of the faded beauties, will be doubly charming.  Ho! slave—­bring some lamps.  The sun has gone down, and the wine loses all its flavor when the table is not brightly lighted.”

At this moment the voice of Darius, who had left the arbor and gone out into the garden, was heard calling:  “Come and hear how beautifully the nightingale is singing.”

“By Mithras, you son of Hystaspes, you must be in love,” interrupted Araspes.  “The flowery darts of love must have entered the heart of him, who leaves his wine to listen to the nightingale.”

“You are right there, father,” cried Bartja.  “Philomel, as the Greeks call our Gulgul, is the lovers’ bird among all nations, for love has given her her beautiful song.  What beauty were you dreaming of, Darius, when you went out to listen to the nightingale?”

“I was not dreaming of any,” answered he.  “You know how fond I am of watching the stars, and the Tistar-star rose so splendidly to-night, that I left the wine to watch it.  The nightingales were singing so loudly to one another, that if I had not wished to hear them I must have stopped my ears.”

“You kept them wide open, however,” said Araspes laughing.  “Your enraptured exclamation proved that.”

“Enough of this,” cried Darius, to whom these jokes were getting wearisome.  “I really must beg you to leave off making allusions to matters, which I do not care to hear spoken of.”

“Imprudent fellow!” whispered the older man; “now you really have betrayed yourself.  If you were not in love, you would have laughed instead of getting angry.  Still I won’t go on provoking you—­tell me what you have just been reading in the stars.”

At these words Darius looked up again into the starry sky and fixed his eyes on a bright constellation hanging over the horizon.  Zopyrus watched him and called out to his friends, “Something important must be happening up there.  Darius, tell us what’s going on in the heavens just now.”

“Nothing good,” answered the other.  “Bartja, I have something to say to you alone.”

“Why to me alone?  Araspes always keeps his own counsel, and from the rest of you I never have any secrets.”

“Still—­”