An Egyptian Princess — Complete by Georg Ebers (amazing books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Georg Ebers
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As he finished speaking the men raised a wild cry of rage and took possession of the trembling child. A soldier held her up, so that her father—the troops not being more than a bow-shot apart—could see all that happened. At the same moment an Egyptian, who afterwards earned celebrity through the loudness of his voice, cried: “Look here, Athenian! see how treachery and corruption are rewarded in this country!” A bowl of wine stood near, provided by the king, from which the soldiers had just been drinking themselves into intoxication. A Karian seized it, plunged his sword into the innocent child’s breast, and let the blood flow into the bowl; filled a goblet with the awful mixture, and drained it, as if drinking to the health of the wretched father. Phanes stood watching the scene, as if struck into a statue of cold stone. The rest of the soldiers then fell upon the bowl like madmen, and wild beasts could not have lapped up the foul drink with greater eagerness.—[Herodotus tells this fearful tale (III. ii.)]
In the same moment Psamtik triumphantly shot off his first arrow into the Persian ranks.
The mercenaries flung the child’s dead body on to the ground; drunk with her blood, they raised their battle-song, and rushed into the strife far ahead of their Egyptian comrades.
But now the Persian ranks began to move. Phanes, furious with pain and rage, led on his heavy-armed troops, indignant too at the brutal barbarity of their countrymen, and dashed into the ranks of those very soldiers, whose love he had tried to deserve during ten years of faithful leadership.
At noon, fortune seemed to be favoring the Egyptians; but at sunset the Persians had the advantage, and when the full-moon rose, the Egyptians were flying wildly from the battle-field, perishing in the marshes and in the arm of the Nile which flowed behind their position, or being cut to pieces by the swords of their enemies.
Twenty thousand Persians and fifty thousand Egyptians lay dead on the blood-stained sea-sand. The wounded, drowned, and prisoners could scarcely be numbered.
[Herod. III. 12. Ktesias, Persica 9. In ancient history the loss of the conquered is always far greater than that of the conquerors. To a certain extent this holds good in the present day, but the proportion is decidedly not so unfavorable for the vanquished.]Psamtik had been one of the last to fly. He was well mounted, and, with a few thousand faithful followers, reached the opposite bank of the Nile and made for Memphis, the well-fortified city of the Pyramids.
Of the Greek mercenaries very few survived, so furious had been Phanes’ revenge, and so well had he been supported by his Ionians. Ten thousand Karians were taken captive and the murderer of his little child was killed by Phanes’ own hand.
Aristomachus too, in spite of his wooden leg, had performed miracles of bravery; but, notwithstanding all their efforts, neither he, nor any of his confederates in revenge, had succeeded in taking Psamtik prisoner.
When the battle was over, the Persians returned in triumph to their tents, to be warmly welcomed by Croesus and the warriors and priests who had remained behind, and to celebrate their victory by prayers and sacrifices.
The next morning Cambyses assembled his generals and rewarded them with different tokens of distinction, such as costly robes, gold chains, rings, swords, and stars formed of precious stones. Gold and silver coins were distributed among the common soldiers.
The principal attack of the Egyptians had been directed against the centre of the Persian army, where Cambyses commanded in person; and with such effect that the guards had already begun to give way. At that moment Bartja, arriving with his troop of horsemen, had put fresh courage into the wavering, had fought like a lion himself, and by his bravery and promptitude decided the day in favor of the Persians.
The troops were exultant in their joy: they shouted his praises, as “the conqueror of Pelusium” and the “best of the Achaemenidae.”
Their cries reached the king’s ears and made him very angry. He knew he had been fighting at the risk of life, with real courage and the strength of a giant, and yet the day would have been lost if this boy had not presented him with the victory. The brother who had embittered his days of happy love, was now to rob him of half his military glory. Cambyses felt that he hated Bartja, and his fist clenched involuntarily as he saw the young hero looking so happy in the consciousness of his own well-earned success.
Phanes had been wounded and went to his tent; Aristomachus lay near him, dying.
“The oracle has deceived me, after all,” he murmured. “I shall die without seeing my country again.”
“The oracle spoke the truth,” answered Phanes. “Were not the last words of the Pythia?”
‘Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee, Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford?’“Can you misunderstand their meaning? They speak of Charon’s lingering boat, which will convey you to your last home, to the one great resting-place for all wanderers—the kingdom of Hades.”
“Yes, my friend, you are right there. I am going to Hades.”
“And
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