The Royals Cyrus Quotes

Botolph, Wednesday May 7, 1681 On the day before we left with Joshua in his cart, I hurried to finish my chores. I checked the supplies in the larder to make sure there’d be enough butter and eggs, beef and poultry – milk, cheese, bread – to feed the boarders for a week so Ralph wouldn’t have to look for provisions right away. I try to make things easy for my son, because he’s always been absent-minded and more so since the death of his father, which came not directly from a war injury, but because days on end out of doors in the cruelest time of the year made him susceptible to illness. As a result, he succumbed to pleurisy, which a stronger man might have resisted. I closed the larder door and gazed out the window. The sunlight on the harbor seemed as yellow as lemon, as brilliant as a field of marigolds. I imagined a rainbow of fragrances – lavender, lilac, witch hazel, hawthorn – that used to please me when I was a youngster. I visited Deputy Governor Drayton early in the afternoon. People like me, a child of the first pioneers to Sagadac, don’t usually become friendly with representatives of the royal government for the same reason that we’ve stopped making friends with natives: we don’t know what they’ll think of us. I decided after my husband Cyrus died, however, to break through some of the restrictions we put on ourselves.

Power lies not in those who flaunt it,” Cyrus says, his voice dropping an octave. “For once you lay it out for all to see, it sits there for any to take it. Power lies in those who have built their empire in the shadows without a word being breathed. Power lies in having your masses built, so when the glamorous show falls, the empire rises, already in place.

Atossa, Jasmine read. Daughter of Cyrus the First. In a land where royal daughters normally faded into obscurity, Atossa was one of the few names Jasmine recognized from her tutor's teachings: a daughter and later wife of influence in the old Achaemenid days.

Cyrus had provided them with a model of kingship. The heavens, in the wake of their return from Babylon, had taken on something of the appearance of the Persian court. ‘From where do you come?’ So asked God, in the Book of Job, of an official in his retinue titled the Adversary—the Satan. Back came the reply: ‘From roaming through the earth and going to and fro in it.’38 In Athens, dread of the Great King’s secret agents had inspired Aristophanes to portray one of them as a giant eye; but in Jewish scripture there was no laughing at the royal spies.