"Wilt thou let me rest here awhile before I go up to Shushan?
I am weary of riding and thirsty from the road." "Hail, king of the world! I am thy servant.

Rest thee and refresh thee here," answered Nehushta, drawing back into the tent.

The king beckoned to Zoroaster to follow him and went in.
Darius sat upon the carved folding-chair that stood in the midst of the tent by the main pole, and eagerly drained the huge golden goblet of Shiraz wine which Zoroaster poured for him.

Then he took off his headpiece, and his thick, coarse hair fell in a mass of dark curls to his neck, like the mane of a black lion.

He breathed a long breath as of relief and enjoyment of well-earned repose, and leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes rest on Nehushta's face as she stood before him looking down to the ground.