These thoughts and questionings excited him so fearfully, that he sprang from his bed, crying:  “Love and I have nothing to do with one another.  Other men maybe kind and good if they like; I must be stern, or I shall fall into the hands of those who hate me—­hate me because I have been just, and have visited heavy sins with heavy chastisements.  They whisper flattering words in my ear; they curse me when my back is turned.  The gods themselves must be my enemies, or why do they rob me of everything I love, deny me posterity and even that military glory which is my just due?  Is Bartja so much better than I, that everything which I am forced to give up should be his in hundred-fold measure?  Love, friendship, fame, children, everything flows to him as the rivers to the sea, while my heart is parched like the desert.  But I am king still.  I can show him which is the stronger of us two, and I will, though his forehead may touch the heavens.  In Persia there can be only one great man.  He or I,—­I or he.  In a few days I’ll send him back to Asia and make him satrap of Bactria.  There he can nurse his child and listen to his wife’s songs, while I am winning glory in Ethiopia, which it shall not be in his power to lessen.  Ho, there, dressers! bring my robes and a good morning-draught of wine.  I’ll show the Persians that I’m fit to be King of Ethiopia, and can beat them all at bending a bow.  Here, give me another cup of wine.  I’d bend that bow, if it were a young cedar and its string a cable!” So saying he drained an immense bowl of wine and went into the palace-garden, conscious of his enormous strength and therefore sure of success.

All his nobles were assembled waiting for him there, welcomed him with loud acclamations, and fell on their faces to the ground before their king.

Pillars, connected by scarlet cords, had been quickly set up between the closely-cut hedges and straight avenues.  From these cords, suspended by gold and silver rings, yellow and dark blue hangings fluttered in the breeze.  Gilded wooden benches had been placed round in a large circle, and nimble cup-bearers handed wine in costly vessels to the company assembled for the shooting-match.

At a sign from the king the Achaemenidae rose from the earth.

Cambyses glanced over their ranks, and his face brightened on seeing that Bartja was not there.  Prexaspes handed him the Ethiopian bow, and pointed out a target at some distance.  Cambyses laughed at the large size of the target, weighted the bow with his right hand, challenged his subjects to try their fortune first, and handed the bow to the aged Hystaspes, as the highest in rank among the Achaemenidae.