horses. She was far advanced in pregnancy, yet from dread of the enemy, and tenderness for her husband, she bore up at first as well as she could under the fatigue of the flight. Compelled, however, to yield to her condition, she implored him to save her by an honorable death from the reproach and misery of captivity. At first he embraced, he comforted and cheered her; now admiring her heroic spirit, now faint with dread that, if left behind, she might fall into the hands of another. At last, from excess of love, and his own familiarity with deeds of horror, he bared his scimitar, and wounding her, drew her to the banks of the Araxes, where he committed her to the stream. He himself fled with headlong speed till he reached Iberia. Zenobia, meanwhile (for such was her name), was descried by shepherds floating on the water, still breathing, and with manifest signs of life; and as they gathered from the dignity of her aspect that she was of no mean rank, they bound up her wound and applied their rustic medicines to it; and when they had learnt her name and adventures, they conveyed her to Artaxata, whence, at the public charge, she was conducted to Tiridates, who received her courteously, and treated her with the respect due to royalty."[1]
This story of Zenobia in no way affects the fortunes of the empire. It throws no light on the policy or character of the Cæsars, but it affords the writer an opportunity for displaying the deep interest he took in the sorrows and sufferings of humankind.
He does not disdain to interrupt his narrative when
- ↑ Annals, xii. ch. 51.
