The Prince knelt at his mother’s feet, and her arms encircled his neck while her lips kissed his brow. “Welcome home, beloved son!” she exclaimed. “Long days have intervened since you waved farewell to me from yonder bridge; but no day has passed that I did not think of you!”
She raised him up and stood proudly at his side, leaning on his arm, while she welcomed Prince Bardya and his sisters. To Bardya she said as he bent his knee before her: “The blessing of Ahura-Mazda be upon you, O Prince of the World! Arise! It is not meet that you kneel to me! Welcome to the palace of my lord, the King of Iran!”
“Gracious Queen,” replied Bardya as he arose, “I kneel to you as to my mother! Next to her, who lives only in my memory, do I love and reverence the mother of my friend, the Prince of Iran. Have we not, in years past, stood together at your knee and received your instruction? Now that we are indeed orphans we come to you for consolation.”
Tears filled the great lady’s eyes. She embraced Athura and Artistone tenderly; and, leaving the men to the care of her son, she took the girls with her to her own apartments and personally saw that they were made comfortable. While they are removing the dust of the road and enrobing themselves for dinner, we may wander in spirit through this typical palace of the Achæmenian kings and observe its grandeur.
From the portico which extended the full breadth of the palace front, an entrancing view of valley and mountain, of river and park, could be had. Sixteen slender, fluted, marble pillars supported the massive wooden roof of the portico. Their capitals were winged bulls; their bases were bell-shaped and carved to imitate lotus buds. A high, narrow door gave entrance from the front through the thick stone walls into a hall, on either side of which were rooms where the palace-guards had their abode. The hall led into a reception room fully fifty feet square, whose walls were pierced by a dozen narrow windows and whose ceiling of heavy carved timbers was upheld by slender wooden pillars covered with silver plates. The stone walls were hidden by beaten silver plates and the windows and doors were hung with tapestries of fine crimson and purple fabrics. Wooden shutters were fitted to the windows, but were now open to admit air and light. Later, when winter should come with its rains and frost, the windows would be closed by semi-transparent oiled silk. Red and purple rugs lay on the tiled floor, partially covering the various patterns worked out in colored tiles. A throne, shining with gold plate, occupied a raised platform at the end of the room opposite the entrance. Cushioned chairs, divans, and couches, tables of polished wood, mirrors of polished silver and bronze, lamps of many patterns fastened to the pillars and walls, and a cabinet of dark inlaid wood comprised the furniture. The cabinet held a collection of books, rolls, and tablets, the library and the special treasure of the King of Iran.
Doors at the right of the throne led into the apartments of the men; at the left, into the apartments of the women; and, immediately at the rear, into a small open court, beyond which were the servants’ quarters. Banquets of state were held in the throne room, but ordinarily the tables were laid in the small open court. The various apartments were furnished with couches, and with blankets and rugs of skillful weaving and of that fineness and texture for which the woven products of Iran have ever been famous. All the conveniences of an advanced civilization, which power and wealth could provide or gather from the many nations over which the Persians held sway, were here. Baths and toilets fed by water piped from the hills, and drained into the Pulwar below, ornamental cabinets, containing scents and cosmetics for adorning the person, wardrobes full of costly dresses made of silk and fine linen, mirrors, combs, and brushes—even the modern homes of many so-called civilized people could boast no better.
A narrow stair led up from the inner court to the flat roof, where the occupants of the palace, reclining on soft divans, under canopies or sunshades, could pass the warmer hours of the day, breathe the cool mountain air, and enjoy the lovely scenes. Looking down from it, one could see the royal stables five hundred paces to the south in the park, where scores of graceful horses were kept; and farther on was the inclosure where cattle and sheep, driven in from the mountain pastures, were ready to furnish the royal table with meat or milk. A canal led from the Pulwar above the palace through the park to the stables below and thence into luxuriant gardens where servants toiled to supply their master’s table with vegetables. Fowls, dogs, horses, and cattle enlivened the barnyard scene. Servants in gay tunics, loose, fringed trousers, and with sandaled feet went hither and thither on their duties. Guards in shining armor walked their beats through the park or lazily stood leaning on their spears at the palace steps.
While the guests were removing the dust and stains of travel, servants busily prepared the banquet. Tables of walnut, plated with silver and bound together by golden bands fastened with copper nails, were set in the great audience hall. Platters of beautiful porcelain or of beaten silver, piled high with fruits and bread, were placed on them, and plates of silver and cups of gold were also brought forth. Low seats whereon the guests could either sit or recline were set in order. A major-domo in gorgeous livery saw that all things were made ready. Then the guests were called. The men were seated at one table; the women, at another. Prince Darius sat at the head of the former; his mother at the head of the latter. Servants brought on, in regular courses, fish, steaming loads of venison and fowl, and bountiful supplies of vegetables and pastry. Water, milk, and wine of Helbon were the drinks, the latter being used sparingly. With appetites sharpened by a long day’s journey in the bracing air of the mountains, the guests did full justice to the viands. While they ate, the soft music of harps, played with considerable skill by musicians in the court, floated in through the open doors.
The banquet hour having passed, the officers and nobles returned to the camp, while Prince Bardya and his sisters accompanied Prince Darius and his mother to a room adjacent to the dining-hall, used by the King of Iran when at home as an office. A large fireplace in one corner of the room was filled with a cheerful blaze. Gathered about the fire, guests and hosts felt much at home and spent a pleasant hour in conversation.
“Now that Cambyses passed through your city with scant courtesy,” Bardya said, somewhat warmed by the wine he had imbibed and by his genial surroundings, so that he felt called upon to express his indignation towards his brother, “what think you of such a king?” He addressed Queen Hystaspis.