Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. An Egyptian Princess — Complete by Georg Ebers (amazing books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Georg Ebers
Book online «An Egyptian Princess — Complete by Georg Ebers (amazing books to read txt) 📖». Author Georg Ebers
He ceased, and pressed his hand on his wound. Cambyses gazed at him in astonishment, stepped forward, and was just going to touch his girdle—an action which would have been equivalent to the signing of a death-warrant when his eye caught sight of the chain, which he himself had hung round the Athenian’s neck as a reward for the clever way in which he had proved the innocence of Nitetis.
[The same sign was used by the last Darius to denote that his able Greek general Memnon, who had offended him by his plainness of speech, was doomed to death. As he was being led away, Memnon exclaimed, in allusion to Alexander, who was then fast drawing near: “Thy remorse will soon prove my worth; my avenger is not far off.” Droysen, Alex. d. Grosse, Diod. XVII. 30. Curtius III. 2.]The sudden recollection of the woman he loved, and of the countless services rendered him by Phanes, calmed his wrath his hand dropped. One minute the severe ruler stood gazing lingeringly at his disobedient friend; the next, moved by a sudden impulse, he raised his right hand again, and pointed imperiously to the gate leading from the court.
Phanes bowed in silence, kissed the king’s robe, and descended slowly into the court. Psamtik watched him, quivering with excitement, sprang towards the veranda, but before his lips could utter the curse which his heart had prepared, he sank powerless on to the ground.
Cambyses beckoned to his followers to make immediate preparations for a lion-hunt in the Libyan mountains.
CHAPTER XIII.
The waters of the Nile had begun to rise again. Two months had passed away since Phanes’ disappearance, and much had happened.
The very day on which he left Egypt, Sappho had given birth to a girl, and had so far regained strength since then under the care of her grandmother, as to be able to join in an excursion up the Nile, which Croesus had suggested should take place on the festival of the goddess Neith. Since the departure of Phanes, Cambyses’ behavior had become so intolerable, that Bartja, with the permission of his brother, had taken Sappho to live in the royal palace at Memphis, in order to escape any painful collision. Rhodopis, at whose house Croesus and his son, Bartja, Darius and Zopyrus were constant guests, had agreed to join the party.
On the morning of the festival-day they started in a gorgeously decorated boat, from a point between thirty and forty miles below Memphis, favored by a good north-wind and urged rapidly forward by a large number of rowers.
A wooden roof or canopy, gilded and brightly painted, sheltered them from the sun. Croesus sat by Rhodopis, Theopompus the Milesian lay at her feet. Sappho was leaning against Bartja. Syloson, the brother of Polykrates, had made himself a comfortable resting-place next to Darius, who was looking thought fully into the water. Gyges and Zopyrus busied themselves in making wreaths for the women, from the flowers handed them by an Egyptian slave.
“It seems hardly possible,” said Bartja, “that we can be rowing against the stream. The boat flies like a swallow.”
“This fresh north-wind brings us forward,” answered Theopompus. “And then the Egyptian boatmen understand their work splendidly.”
“And row all the better just because we are sailing against the stream,” added Croesus. “Resistance always brings out a man’s best powers.”
“Yes,” said Rhodopis, “sometimes we even make difficulties, if the river of life seems too smooth.”
“True,” answered Darius. “A noble mind can never swim with the stream. In quiet inactivity all men are equal. We must be seen fighting, to be rightly estimated.”
“Such noble-minded champions must be very cautious, though,” said Rhodopis, “lest they become contentious, and quarrelsome. Do you see those melons lying on the black soil yonder, like golden balls? Not one would have come to perfection if the sower had been too lavish with his seed. The fruit would have been choked by too luxuriant tendrils and leaves. Man is born to struggle and to work, but in this, as in everything else, he must know how to be moderate if his efforts are to succeed. The art of true wisdom is to keep within limits.”
“Oh, if Cambyses could only hear you!” exclaimed Croesus. “Instead of being contented with his immense conquests, and now thinking for the welfare of his subjects, he has all sorts of distant plans in his head. He wishes to conquer the entire world, and yet, since Phanes left, scarcely a day has passed in which he has not been conquered himself by the Div of drunkenness.”
“Has his mother no influence over him?” asked Rhodopis. “She is a noble woman.”
“She could not even move his resolution to marry Atossa, and was forced to be present at the marriage feast.”
“Poor Atossa!” murmured Sappho.
“She does not pass a very happy life as Queen of Persia,” answered Croesus; “and her own naturally impetuous disposition makes it all the more difficult or her to live contentedly with this husband and mother; I am sorry to hear it said that Cambyses neglects her sadly, and treats her like a child. But the marriage does not seem to have astonished the Egyptians, as brothers and sisters often marry here.”
“In Persia too,” said Darius, putting on an appearance of the most perfect composure, “marriages with very near relations are thought to be the best.”
“But to return to the king,” said Croesus, turning the conversation for Darius’ sake. “I can assure you, Rhodopis, that he may really be called a noble man. His violent and hasty deeds are repented of almost as soon as committed, and the resolution to be a just and merciful ruler has never forsaken him. At supper, for instance, lately, before his mind was clouded
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