that fashion, as you do the hearts of men. Give it back to Prexaspes.
It's easier to play with beautiful women and laughing children, than with
a weapon like this, which mocks the strength even of real men."

Bartja blushed with anger and annoyance at this speech, which was uttered
in the bitterest tone, picked up the giant arrow that lay before him,
placed himself opposite the target, summoned all his strength, bent the
bow, by an almost superhuman effort, and sent the arrow into the very
centre of the target, where its iron point remained, while the wooden
shaft split into a hundred shivers.

[Herodotus tells this story (III, 30.), and we are indebted to him
also for our information of the events which follow. The following
inscription, said to have been placed over the grave of Darius, and
communicated by Onesikritus, (Strabo 730.) proves that the Persians
were very proud of being reputed good archers: "I was a friend to my
friends, the best rider and archer, a first-rate hunter; I could do
everything."]

Most of the Achaemenidae burst into loud shouts of delight at this
marvellous proof of strength; but Bartja's nearest friends turned pale
and were silent; they were watching the king, who literally quivered with
rage, and Bartja, who was radiant with pride and joy.

Cambyses was a fearful sight at that moment. It seemed to him as if that
arrow, in piercing the target, had pierced his own heart, his strength,
dignity and honor. Sparks floated before his eyes, in his ears was a
sound like the breaking of a stormy sea on the shore; his cheeks glowed
and he grasped the arm of Prexaspes who was at his side. Prexaspes only
too well understood what that pressure meant, when given by a royal hand,