American library books ยป Fiction ยป An Egyptian Princess โ€” Complete by Georg Ebers (good books for 8th graders TXT) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซAn Egyptian Princess โ€” Complete by Georg Ebers (good books for 8th graders TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Georg Ebers



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Sappho pretended to run in, but instead of obeying her nurseโ€™s orders, stopped and hid herself behind a rose-bush, hoping to catch sight of these early guests. In the fear of needlessly distressing her, she had not been told of the events of the previous evening, and at this early hour could only expect to see some very intimate friend of her grandmotherโ€™s.

Melitta opened the gate and admitted a youth splendidly apparelled, and with fair curling hair.

It was Bartja, and Sappho was so lost in wonder at his beauty, and the Persian dress, to her so strange, that she remained motionless in her hiding-place, her eyes fixed on his face. Just so she had pictured to herself Apollo with the beautiful locks, guiding the sun-chariot.

As Melitta and the stranger came nearer she thrust her little head through the roses to hear what the handsome youth was saying so kindly in his broken Greek.

She heard him ask hurriedly after Croesus and his son; and then, from Melittaโ€™s answer, she gathered all that had passed the evening before, trembled for Phanes, felt so thankful to the generous Gyges, and again wondered who this youth in royal apparel could possibly be. Rhodopis had told her about Cyrusโ€™s heroic deeds, the fall of Croesus and the power and wealth of the Persians, but still she had always fancied them a wild, uncultivated people. Now, however, her interest in Persia increased with every look at the handsome Bartja. At last Melitta went in to wake her grandmother and announce the guest, and Sappho tried to follow her, but Eros, the foolish boy whose ignorance she had been mocking a moment before, had other intentions. Her dress caught in the thorns, and before she could disengage it, the beautiful Bartja was standing before her, helping her to get free from the treacherous bush.

Sappho could not speak a word even of thanks; she blushed deeply, and stood smiling and ashamed, with downcast eyes.

Bartja, too, generally so full of fun and spirit, looked down at her without speaking, the color mounting to his cheeks.

The silence, however, did not last long, for Sappho, recovering from her fright, burst into a laugh of childish delight at the silent stranger and the odd scene, and fled towards the house like a timid fawn.

In a moment Bartja was himself again; in two strides he reached the young girl, quick as thought seized her hand and held it fast, notwithstanding all her struggles.

โ€œLet me go!โ€ she cried half in earnest and half laughing, raising her dark eyes appealingly to him.

โ€œWhy should I?โ€ he answered. โ€œI took you from the rose-bush and shall hold you fast until you give me your sister there, the other rose, from your bosom, to take home with me as a keepsake.โ€

โ€œPlease let me go,โ€ repeated Sappho, โ€œI will promise nothing unless you let my hand go.โ€

โ€œBut if I do, you will not run away again?โ€

โ€œCertainly not.โ€

โ€œWell, then, I will give you your liberty, but now you must give me your rose.โ€

โ€œThere are plenty on the bush yonder, and more beautiful ones; choose whichever you like. Why do you want just this one?โ€

โ€œTo keep it carefully in remembrance of the most beautiful maiden I ever saw.โ€

โ€œThen I shall certainly not give it to you; for those are not my real friends who tell me I am beautiful, only those who tell me I am good.โ€

โ€œWhere did you learn that?โ€

โ€œFrom my grandmother Rhodopis.โ€

โ€œVery well, then I will tell you you are better than any other maiden in the whole world.โ€

โ€œHow can you say such things, when you donโ€™t know me at all? Oh, sometimes I am very naughty and disobedient. If I were really good I should be indoors now instead of talking to you here. My grandmother has forbidden me ever to stay in the garden when visitors are here, and indeed I donโ€™t care for all those strange men who always talk about things I cannot understand.โ€

โ€œThen perhaps you would like me to go away too?โ€

โ€œOh no, I can understand you quite well; though you cannot speak half so beautifully as our poor Phanes for example, who was obliged to escape so miserably yesterday evening, as I heard Melitta saying just this minute.โ€

โ€œDid you love Phanes?โ€

โ€œLove him? Oh yes,โ€”I was very fond of him. When I was little he always brought me balls, dolls ninepins from Memphis and Sais; and now that I am older he teaches me beautiful new songs.โ€

[Jointed dolls for children. Wilkinson II. 427. Note 149. In the Leyden Museum one of these jointed toys is to be seen, in very good preservation.]

โ€œAs a parting gift he brought me a tiny Sicilian lapdog, which I am going to call Argos, because he is so white and swiftfooted. But in a few days we are to have another present from the good Phanes, for.... There, now you can see what I am; I was just going to let out a great secret. My grandmother has strictly forbidden me to tell any one what dear little visitors we are expecting; but I feel as if I had known you a long time already, and you have such kind eyes that I could tell you everything. You see, when I am very happy, I have no one in the whole world to talk to about it, except old Melitta and my grandmother, and, I donโ€™t know how it is, that, though they love me so much, they sometimes cannot understand how trifles can make me so happy.โ€

โ€œThat is because they are old, and have forgotten what made them happy in their youth. But have you no companions of your own age that you are fond of?โ€

โ€œNot one. Of course there are many other young girls beside me in Naukratis, but my grandmother says I am not to seek their acquaintance, and if they will not come to us I am not to go to them.โ€

โ€œPoor child! if you were in Persia, I could soon find you a friend. I have a sister called Atossa, who is young and good, like you.โ€

โ€œOh, what a pity that she did not come here with you!โ€”But now you must tell me your name.โ€

โ€œMy name is Bartja.โ€

โ€œBartja! that is a strange name! Bartja-Bartja. Do you know, I like it. How was the son of Croesus called, who saved our Phanes so generously?โ€

โ€œGyges. Darius, Zopyrus and he are my best friends. We have sworn never to part, and to give up our lives for one another, and that is why I came to-day, so early and quite in secret, to help my friend Gyges, in case he should need me.โ€

โ€œThen you rode here for nothing.โ€

โ€œNo, by Mithras, that indeed I did not, for this ride brought me to you. But now you must tell me your name.โ€

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