“Well, then, you must marry Roxana when you return from the North.  But I should advise you to take her with you to the field.  A Persian generally fights better if he knows that, beside his most precious treasures, he has a beautiful woman in his tent to defend.”

“Spare me this one command, my brother.  I conjure thee, by the soul of our father, not to inflict on me a wife of whom I know nothing, and never wish to know.  Give Roxana to Zopyrus, who is so fond of women, or to Darius or Bessus, who are related to her father Hydarnes.  I cannot love her, and should be miserable . . .”

Cambyses interrupted him with a laugh, exclaiming:  “Did you learn these notions in Egypt, where it is the custom to be contented with one wife?  In truth, I have long repented having sent a boy like you abroad.  I am not accustomed to bear contradiction, and shall listen to no excuses after the war.  This once I will allow you to go to the field without a wife.  I will not force you to do what, in your opinion, might endanger your valor.  But it seems to me that you have other and more secret reasons for refusing my brotherly proposal.  If that is the case, I am sorry for you.  However, for the present, you can depart, but after the war I will hear no remonstrances.  You know me.”

“Perhaps after the war I may ask for the very thing, which I am refusing now—­but never for Roxana!  It is just as unwise to try to make a man happy by force as it is wicked to compel him to be unhappy, and I thank you for granting my request.”

“Don’t try my powers of yielding too often!—­How happy you look!  I really believe you are in love with some one woman by whose side all the others have lost their charms.”

Bartja blushed to his temples, and seizing his brother’s hand, exclaimed:  “Ask no further now, accept my thanks once more, and farewell.  May I bid Nitetis farewell too, when I have taken leave of our mother and Atossa?”

Cambyses bit his lip, looked searchingly into Bartja’s face, and finding that the boy grew uneasy under his glance, exclaimed abruptly and angrily:  “Your first business is to hasten to the Tapuri.  My wife needs your care no longer; she has other protectors now.”  So saying he turned his back on his brother and passed on into the great hall, blazing with gold, purple and jewels, where the chiefs of the army, satraps, judges, treasurers, secretaries, counsellors, eunuchs, door-keepers, introducers of strangers, chamberlains, keepers of the wardrobe, dressers, cup-bearers, equerries, masters of the chase, physicians, eyes and ears of the king, ambassadors and plenipotentiaries of all descriptions—­were in waiting for him.