Upon arriving at the palace, Achæmenes offered to instruct him in the functions of his office; but, hastening to the sideboard, and taking up a precious goblet, he said,—"I need no instructor, self-taught, I will wait upon my mistress, making no bustle about such trifles. Your fortune has forced you perhaps to learn your trade; nature and the spur of the moment will teach me what I am to do." So saying, he lightly, and with a grace, poured out the wine, and handed the cup upon his finger ends.[24]
The draught inflamed the mind of Arsace more than ever. Slowly sipping, she fixed her eyes intently upon Theagenes, taking in at the same time large draughts of love; neither did she drain the goblet, but left a portion of its contents, in which Theagenes might pledge her. A wound of a very different nature rankled in the bosom of Achæmenes: anger, envy, and resentment manifested themselves on his countenance, so that Arsace could not help observing it, and whispered something to those who were nearest her.
When the entertainment broke up—"Grant me," said Theagenes, "my mistress! this first boon which I shall ask—permit me alone to wear this dress when serving at your table." Arsace agreed to his request, and putting on his ordinary raiment, he departed. Achæmenes followed him, sharply upbraided him with his want of manners; telling him, too, that there was a forwardness and familiarity in him, which, though they might at first be overlooked, in consideration of his youth and inexperience, would in the end, if not corrected, infallibly give offence. He gave him these cautions, he said, out of a friendly feeling, and particularly as he was shortly to become related to him by marrying his sister, according to his mistress's promise.
He was proceeding with his good advice; but Theagenes, his eyes fixed in deep thought on the ground, seemed not to hear, and was preparing to leave him, when Cybele joined them, on her way to conduct her mistress to take her usual siesta.[25] Seeing her son sorrowful, and apparently out of humour, she inquired into the cause of it.—-"This foreign youth," said he, "thanks to his specious person, is preferred to all of us, the ancient chamberlains and cupbearers; to-day he has already wormed himself into our mistress's good graces, and has waited nearest her royal person, presenting the cup to her, and thrusting us out of our former dignity, which has become no more than an empty name. We ought, perhaps, to bear without murmuring, if we cannot feel without envy, the honours he receives, and the confidence to which he is admitted, since we have had the weakness, by our negligence and silence, to assist in his success; our mistress, however, might have done all this without affronting and disgracing her old servants, who moreover are in all her secrets. But some other time will serve for speaking farther on this subject: at present, let me go and see my charming Chariclea, my promised bride; that, by her sweet aspect, I may soothe the annoyance of my mind."
"What bride do you talk of?" replied Cybele, "you seem to me to take fire at small and imaginary offences, and to be ignorant of the real and deep ones which you have received. Chariclea is no longer destined for your wife."
"What say you?" he exclaimed, "am not I a very fitting match for my fellow-slave? What can have wrought this sudden change?"—"Our own too great fidelity and zeal in serving Arsace;" replied Cybele, "for after that we have preferred her caprices to our own safety; when, in compliance with her desires, we have endangered ourselves, and have put the accomplishment of her wishes into her power, this noble youth, this dainty favourite, enters her chamber, and at first sight persuades her to break through all her oaths, and to promise Chariclea to himself; who now, as he affirms, is no longer his sister, but his mistress."
"And is Chariclea indeed promised to Theagenes?" said Achæmenes.—"It is but too true," replied Cybele, "I was present myself and heard it; they even talked of the nuptial feast, and of celebrating it shortly; proposing to satisfy you with the hand of some one else."
At this mortifying intelligence Achæmenes, smiting his hands together, and uttering a deep groan—"I will make this wedding a fatal one to them all," said he; "only do you assist me in endeavouring to put it off for a few days. If any one inquires after me, say that I am indisposed and gone into the country. This precious stranger's calling her his betrothed is a mere pretext to break through the engagements that have been made to me; his kissing, his embracing her, nay, his sleeping with her, would not clearly convince me that she is not his sister. I will sift this business, and will vindicate the violated oaths and the insulted gods." So saying, raging with love, jealousy, and disappointment (feelings all the more violent in a barbarian's breast), he rushed out of the room; and without giving himself time for consideration, in the first moments of his passion, he secretly mounted, in the evening, an Armenian horse, reserved for state occasions, and fled full speed to Oroondates.
The Viceroy was then in the neighbourhood of the celebrated Thebes,[26] marshalling all his forces, and preparing to lead them on an expedition against the Ethiopians.