“How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry!”
Shakespeare.
After the defeat of the Persians at Salamis, Xerxes retreated across the Hellespont to Asia, but Mardonius was not so easily disheartened. With three hundred thousand men he wintered in Thessaly making thorough preparations for a second attack upon Athens the following summer. What was his utter amazement upon re-entering the city to find it completely deserted, its citizens having remained at Salamis, Troezen and Aegina. Thereupon he retreated to Thebes in Bœotia there to await the Greek offensive which was to be strengthened by aid from the Spartans.
On a certain evening in spring, ten months after the destruction of Athens, Zopyrus and his friend Masistius, sat outside the entrance of the latter’s tent in the Persian encampment near Thebes. The night was cool for that time of the year, but the chill was warded off to some extent by a brightly blazing fire.
“What think you of this sumptuous feast to be given by the Theban Attaginus, on the morrow?” asked Zopyrus.
“I expect I shall enjoy the feast, but I do not admire the Bœotians,” replied Masistius. “They are unfaithful to their country’s cause, and above all things I loathe a traitor. Of course our outward appearances must be those of friendship, for they are of inestimable service to the Persian cause, but how different from the traitorous Thebans was that little band of Athenians who tried to defend their Acropolis!”
Zopyrus’ brow clouded at memory of that tragic scene. “By the way Masistius, what became of the girl whom Xerxes gave to Artabazus when the latter was forced to surrender the maiden to whom I laid claim?”
Masistius gazed silently into the bright flames and tossed a twig into the fire, watching it a moment before he spoke.
“Her young life will be consumed just as that twig. She was taken away by Artabazus and is now a captive in his harem.”