XXVII. Now, Darius vexed his father by asking for this lady; for the Persians are excessively jealous about their women; indeed, not only all who approach and speak to one of the king’s concubines, but even any one who drives past or crosses their litters on the high road, is punished with death. Yet, Artaxerxes, through sheer passion, had made Atossa his wife, and kept three hundred most beautiful concubines. However, when Darius made this request, he replied that Aspasia was a free woman, and said that if she was willing he might take her, but that he would not force her to go against her will. When she was sent for, as she, contrary to the king’s expectation, chose to go to Darius, the king let her go, for the law compelled him to do so, but he soon afterwards took her away from him again: for he appointed her priestess of the temple of Artemis, called Anäitis, at Ekbatana, in order that she might spend the rest of her life in chastity. This he considered to be not a harsh, but rather a playful way of reproving his son; but Darius was much enraged at it, either because he was so deeply enamoured of Aspasia, or because he thought that he was being wantonly insulted by his father. Teribazus, perceiving his anger, confirmed him in it, because he saw in the treatment which Darius had received the counterpart of that which had befallen himself. The king, who had several daughters, promised Apama to Pharnabazus, Rhodogoune to Orontes, and Amestris to Teribazus. He kept his word with the two former, but broke it to Teribazus by marrying Amestris himself, and betrothing his youngest daughter Atossa to him in her stead. When, as has been related, he fell in love with her also and married her, Teribazus became bitterly enraged against him, being of an unstable and fickle disposition, without any steady principles. For this reason he never could bear either bad or good fortune, but at one time he was honoured as one of the greatest men in the kingdom, and then swaggered insufferably, while when he was disgraced and reduced to poverty he could not bear his reverse of fortune with a good grace, but became insolent and offensive.
XXVIII. It may be imagined that the company of Teribazus was to Darius as fuel to fire, for Teribazus was constantly repeating to him that it was of no use for him to wear his tiara upright if he did not mean to advance his own interests, and that he was a fool if he imagined that he could inherit the crown without a struggle when his brother was bringing female influence to bear to secure his own succession, and when his father was in such a vacillating and uncertain frame of mind. He who could break the laws of the Persians—which may not be broken—out of his passion for a Greek girl, cannot be urged, be trusted, to keep the most important engagements. It was, moreover, a very different thing for Ochus not to obtain the crown, and for him to be deprived of it, for there was no reason why Ochus should not live happily in a private station, whereas he, having been appointed heir to the throne, must either become king or perish.
Generally speaking, perhaps we may say with Sophocles, “Swift runneth evil counsel to its goal,” for men find the path smooth and easy towards what they desire, and most men desire what is wrong, because of their ignorance and low mindedness. Yet, besides all these considerations, the greatness of the empire, and the fear with which Ochus inspired Darius, also afforded arguments to Teribazus. Nor was the goddess of Love entirely blameless in the matter, for Darius was already incensed at the loss of Aspasia.
XXIX. He, therefore, placed himself entirely in the hands of Teribazus; and many joined in their conspiracy. But the plot was betrayed to the king by a eunuch, who had a perfect knowledge of their plans, and knew that they had determined to break into the king’s chamber by night and murder him in his bed. When Artaxerxes heard this he was perplexed; for he felt that it would be wrong for him to neglect the information which he had received of so great a danger, and yet that it would be even worse to believe the eunuch’s story without any proofs of its truth. He therefore ordered the eunuch to join the conspirators, and to enter his chamber with them. Meanwhile he had a door made in the wall behind his bed, and concealed it with tapestry. When the appointed time arrived, of which he was warned by the eunuch, he lay upon his bed, and did not rise before he had seen the faces of the conspirators and clearly recognised each of them. But when he saw them draw their daggers and rush upon him, he quickly raised the tapestry, passed into the inner room, and slammed the door, crying aloud for help. The would-be murderers, having been seen by the king, but having effected nothing, rushed away through the gates of the palace, and especially warned Teribazus to fly, as he had been distinctly seen. The others dispersed and escaped, but Teribazus was surrounded, and after killing many of the king’s body guard with his own hand was at last despatched by a javelin hurled from a distance. Darius and his children were brought before a court formed of the royal judges, who were appointed by the king to try him. As the king himself did not appear but impeached him by proxy, he ordered clerks to write down the decision of each judge and to bring it to him. As all decided alike, and sentenced Darius to death, the officers of the court removed him into a prison hard by. The executioner now came, bearing in his hand the razor, with which the heads of criminals are cut off, but when he saw Darius he was dismayed, and ran back to the door with his face averted, declaring that he could not and dared not lay hands upon his king. As, however, he was met outside by the judges, who threatened him and ordered him to do his duty, he returned, took hold of Darius’s hair with his left hand, dragged down his head, and severed his neck with the razor. Some historians state that the king himself was present at the trial, and that Darius, when proved guilty, fell on his face and begged for mercy: at which the king sprung up in anger, drew his dagger, and stabbed him mortally. They add that Artaxerxes, after he had returned to his palace, came forward publicly, did obeisance to the sun, and then said aloud, “Men of Persia, be of good cheer, and go, tell the rest of my subjects that the great Oromasdes has executed judgment upon those who formed a wicked and treasonable plot.”
XXX. This was the end of the conspiracy; and now Ochus was encouraged by Atossa to form high hopes, though he still feared his remaining legitimate brother Ariaspes, and his natural brother Arsames. The Persians wished Ariaspes to be their king, not because he was older than Ochus, but because he was of a gentle and kind disposition; while Ochus observed that Arsames was of a keen intellect, and was especially beloved by his father. He, therefore, plotted against both of them, and as he was by nature both crafty and cruel, he indulged his cruelty in his treatment of Arsames, while he made use of his cunning to ruin Ariaspes. He kept sending to this latter eunuchs and friends of the king, who, with an affection of secrecy, continually told him frightful tales of how his father had determined to put him to death with every circumstance of cruelty and insult. These messengers, by daily communicating these fabrications to him, saying that the king was on the very eve of carrying them into operation, threw the unhappy man into such a terrible state of despair and excitement of mind that he ended his life by poison. The king, on hearing of the manner of his death, lamented for him, and had some suspicions about how he came by his end; but as he was unable to verify them and discover the truth, on account of his great age, he attached himself all the more warmly to Arsames, so that he was well known to trust and confide in him above all others. Yet, Ochus was not discouraged by this, but finding a suitable instrument in Arpates the son of Teribazus, induced him to assassinate Arsames. Artaxerxes, when this happened, was so old that his life hung by a mere thread; and when this last blow fell, he could bear up no longer, but sunk at once through grief and misery. He lived ninety-four years, and reigned sixty-two, and was thought to be a mild prince, and a lover of his subjects, though this was chiefly because of his successor, Ochus, who was the most savage and cruel tyrant that ever ruled in Persia.
LIFE OF ARATUS.
I. It seems to me, my Polykrates, that it was in order to avoid the ill-omened sound of the old proverb, that the philosopher Chrysippus altered it into what he thought a better version:
“Who vaunt their fathers, save the best of sons?”