When told that the exquisitely beautiful wife of Abradatas had been assigned to him among other spoils of the Assyrian camp, and that the woman wept incessantly for her husband, to whom she was fondly attached, Cyrus at once resolved not to see her, lest her unrivalled loveliness should make it difficult for him to do his duty. In fact, he protected her against himself, and against one of his favorite officers, who, being appointed to attend upon the beautiful Panthea, had become a captive to her charms. Nothing could exceed the gratitude of the princess, when she found herself and her attendant maidens living in the midst of the Persian camp with as much safety and seclusion, as if she had been in the palace of her husband. Abradatas having received information of the magnanimous conduct of Cyrus, immediately hastened to engage himself, his troops and treasures, in the service of the virtuous monarch. When he was about to go forth to battle with Cyrus, Panthea brought him a golden helmet and arm-pieces, with broad bracelets for his wrists, which without his knowledge she had caused to be made from her own jewels. When he asked, with affectionate surprise, if she had sacrificed her ornaments for him, she replied that her husband was her greatest ornament. She then reminded him of their obligations to Cyrus, and told him that much as she loved him, she had rather be buried with him than live to know he had been deficient in courage. Abradatas laid his hand gently on her head, and looking upward, exclaimed, “O, great Jove, make me worthy of such a wife as Panthea, and such a friend as Cyrus!” As the princess put on his armor, she turned aside to conceal her tears; and when the door of his chariot was closed, she kissed the steps by which he had entered, and followed after him. When he perceived this, he again bade her farewell, and entreated her to return. Her attendants placed her on a litter, and threw a tent-covering over her, to conceal her from the admiring troops. When the dead body of Abradatas was brought from the battle, Panthea reproached herself that she had urged him to such desperate courage. With the stern enthusiasm of ancient times, she stabbed herself to the heart, and died on her husband’s breast; having first given directions that their corpses should be wrapped in the same mantle. The Persian monarch, with sincere lamentations, ordered magnificent funeral rites, and a monument to be erected to their memory. There is reason to suppose that Cyrus was blessed in his own domestic relations; for we are told that he mourned for his wife Cassandana with the sincerest grief, and commanded public demonstrations of sorrow throughout the empire.