When the echo of his footsteps had died away among the colonnades of the inner court, Zopyrus exclaimed: “Poor fellow, it’s really very hard for him to have to meet that proud man, who has so often behaved insolently to him, on friendly terms. Think of that story about the physician for instance.” “You are too lenient,” interrupted Darius. “I don’t like this Oroetes. He has no right to receive the king’s commands in that way. Didn’t you see him bite his lips till they bled, when Prexaspes showed him the king’s ring?” “Yes,” cried the envoy, “he’s a defiant, perverse man. He left the room so quickly, only because he could not keep down his anger any longer.” “Still,” said Bartja, “I hope you will keep his conduct a secret from my brother, for he has been very good to me.” Prexaspes bowed, but Darius said: “We must keep an eye on the fellow. Just here, so far from the king’s gate and in the midst of nations hostile to Persia, we want governors who are more ready to obey their king than this Oroetes seems to be. Why, he seems to fancy he is King of Lydia!” “Do you dislike the satrap?” said Zopyrus. “Well, I think I do,” was the answer. “I always take an aversion or a fancy to people at first sight, and very seldom find reason to change my mind afterwards. I disliked Oroetes before I heard him speak a word, and I remember having the same feeling towards Psamtik, though Amasis took my fancy.” “There’s no doubt that you’re very different from the rest of us,” said Zopyrus laughing, “but now, to please me, let this poor Oroetes alone. I’m glad he’s gone though, because we can talk more freely about home. How is Kassandane? and your worshipped Atossa? Croesus too, how is he? and what are my wives about? They’ll soon have a new companion. To-morrow I intend to sue for the hand of Oroetes’ pretty daughter. We’ve talked a good deal of love with our eyes already. I don’t know whether we spoke Persian or Syrian, but we said the most charming things to one another.” The friends laughed, and Darius, joining in their merriment, said: “Now you shall hear a piece of very good news. I have kept it to the last, because it is the best I have. Now, Bartja, prick up your ears. Your mother, the noble Kassandane, has been cured of her blindness! Yes, yes, it is quite true.--Who cured her? Why who should it be, but that crabbed old Nebenchari, who has become, if possible, moodier than ever. Come, now, calm yourselves, and let me go on with my story; or it will be morning before Bartja gets to sleep. Indeed. I think we had better separate now: you’ve heard the best, and have something to dream about What, you will not? Then, in the name of Mithras, I must go on, though it should make my heart bleed. “I’ll begin with the king. As long as Phanes was in Babylon, he seemed to forget his grief for Nitetis.