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Updated: June 27, 2025
I thought, when I sent you all the volumes of la Scudery's enchanting romance, I had laid up for you a year of enjoyment, and that, touched by the baguette of that exquisite fancy, your convent walls would fall, like those of Jericho at the sound of Jewish trumpets, and you would be transported in imagination to the finest society in the world the company of Cyrus and Mandane under which Oriental disguise you are shown every feature of mind and person in Conde and his heroic sister, my esteemed friend, the Duchesse de Longueville.
While Rustem, to whom Mary had entrusted the jeweller's gold, was making his preparations for their journey with all the care of a practised guide, and while Mary was comforting her governess and Mandane, to whom she explained that Rustem's journey was to save Paula's life, a fresh trial was going forward in the Court of Justice. This time Orion was the accused.
Yes, yes..." and drawing herself up as tall as possible she went on very seriously: "Swear by your bride Mandane as truly as you believe that she loves you...." "But, sweet soul...." "Swear that you will never betray to a living soul what I am going to say not even to Mother Joanna and Pulcheria; no, nor even to your Mandane, unless you find you cannot help it and she gives her sacred word...."
She sang well, and soon recovered from her fright, which, even from the first, did not affect her voice. She is rather pretty, but does not walk or move gracefully; she was well dressed, all but her hair, which was dressed in the present frizzy French fashion, and looked ridiculous for Mandane.
You might have ears as long as a hare's, and what good would it do you? no one could see them. Just as you are, a lily grown like a cypress, you are ten times sweeter to look at than the prettiest girl there, if she had three or even four ears. A girl with three ears! Only think, Mandane, where could the third ear grow?"
Cambyses married Mandane, the daughter of Astyages, and Cyrus was their son. In recounting the circumstances of his birth, Herodotus relates, with all seriousness, the following very extraordinary story: While Mandane was a maiden, living at her father's palace and home in Media, Astyages awoke one morning terrified by a dream.
"Well, settle the matter, and it shall be no fault of mine if the second wedding lacks magnificence." "And we will have a third!" interrupted the child, clapping her hands and laughing. "My worthy escort Rustem.... "The colossus! Why, child, to you all things are possible! Have you found a wife for him too?" "No, he found Mandane for himself without my help."
Rustem replied, "As lively as a fish in water," adding, as he pointed to Mandane, "and I can say the same for my fellow-countrywoman." "You are agreed then?" said the leech, and she nodded eager assent. At this Philippus shook his finger at the man, exclaiming: "Do not get too tightly entangled here, my friend. Who knows how soon Haschim may call you away."
"I hate this lonely country," said the voice, with the vim of water-fret against an obstinate stone. "Wonder what it's like in the Mandane land! I'm sure it's nicer there." Now I affirm there is not a youth living who would not at some time give his right hand to know a woman's exact interpretation of that word "nicer."
Black Cat, Chief of the Mandane village, in a noisy harangue, adopted me as his son and his brother and his father and his mother and I know not what; but apart from trade with his people, I responded coldly to these warm overtures. From Father Holland's leave-taking to Hamilton's coming, was a desolately lonesome interval.
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