I inspired some simply through the desire to defeat this man who seemed to be the god of<hr>
war, and others through the lure of plunder, for by removing his cuirass, they would become rich.<hr>
It was I who armed Abradatas before the battle, it was I who tied this cuirass on him and who<hr>
handed him his weapons.<hr>
       Indeed, Cyrus, it was I who caused his downfall. And though in that moment an unconscious<hr>
fear warned me of the coming disaster, I disregarded this sentiment sent by the gods.<hr>
Unable to hold back my tears, I was ungrateful by hiding them from my dear Abradatas. It seemed to me that<hr>
showing him my grief would steal his heart, signify to him that I lacked<hr>
courage. Thoughtless as I was! I should have displayed my affliction with all the bitterness<hr>
it contained, for I do not doubt that if he had understood that my life depended on the<hr>
continuation of his, he would have taken extra care of himself. He thought of your glory and of my life.<hr>
But, Cyrus, it seemed that in this situation, I neither cared for Abradatas' life nor for<hr>
mine. For when I finished arming him and led him towards the magnificent chariot that awaited him,<hr>
I spoke to him not of him or of me, but only of the debt I owed you. I reminded him that you could have treated me as a slave, but you treated me as a queen. Having had the misfortune of separating you from a man whom you loved more than yourself, you took the generous step of protecting me from him. And after such a righteous act, I had promised you that Abradatas would be as faithful and useful as Araspe had been. Thus, Great Cyrus, is what I said to my dear Abradatas as we were preparing to part for the last time. His sentiments never strayed from mine. "May I prove myself a worthy friend of Cyrus, a worthy husband to Panthea," he told me, laying his hand on my head and looking up to the heavens. Upon saying these words, he left me and climbed into his chariot, looking back at me as long as he could. He ordered his charioteer to move forward. I wanted to say farewell to my husband, but a sudden acute pain prevented me. Even though the chariot was already starting to move away, I could not help but follow him. But noticing this, Abradatas told me: "Go, Panthea, await my return with the hope of seeing me soon." Alas! I did not know then that this chariot, whose splendor attracted all gaze and seemed destined for a victory day, would become Abradatas' coffin. Hardly had I lost sight of him, that my women led me back to my tent. I stopped hoping and began to fear. My imagination, once feeding me crowns and victories, only showed me morbid visions now. According to what I was told in my dreams, I saw everything that happened to Abradatas. Yes, Cyrus, I saw him in the front-line, eager to spill his blood for your glory. I saw him fight furiously against the Lydians, breaking the ranks he attacked, bringing death everywhere his arm reached, chasing the fleeing enemies, littering the battlefield with corpses. In my vision, I saw victory leading his chariot.<hr>
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                                                     68<hr>