To Drypetis, Princess of Persia and daughter of the Great King Darius, from her husband Hephaestion, son of Amyntor.
To my dearest wife, Greetings.
I have been remiss in my duty to you as a husband, my dear Drypetis.
Forgive me my long silence since we left you in Susa. I have no excuse but my own diffidence, my belief that you would as soon forget my existence.
Alexander assures me otherwise. If he is mistaken, I would trouble you no more and bid you destroy this letter.
If you have an inclination to listen to my words, I would ask for your patience, for I have little knowledge of those things a young girl cares to listen to. I have still less knowledge of how to woo your heart.
From this distance all I have to offer is advice, for I have lived more years in this world than you. I have seen sights from which I would wish to shield you. Of those I will not speak. That is the duty of a man towards the woman he wishes to be the mother of his children. He wishes to nurture peace and contentment in her breast., not anguish.
I would speak to you instead of the wonders we have seen; of the frosted mountains which touch the sky, of rivers wider than the sea, of mighty waves on the great Ocean. I would tell you tales of exotic India, of mystic Egypt's temples and the wild Scythian plains. Perhaps we shall sit on long evenings and tell each other tales. You will tell me how you have spent your day, of the little things you have created, of the poems you have read, of the music you have made. And should you care for it, I will tell you of my home in Pella, in Macedonia.
I would tell you of my childhood, of the love of my family. I miss them still on quiet days like these.
Cherish your grandmother, for her health was frail when we were in Susa and she may not be with us for many more years. She was not strong enough to travel to Ecbatana from Susa, so we left you and your sister in her company. There was no other reason to leave you behind, no disparagement was meant.
Take heed of your grandmother's advice, for Sisygambis knows what it is to be an imperial lady.. She has been father and mother both to you and your sister since you were children and she deserves all your respect. She is a queen in dignity and courage. Make yourself a steadfast citadel of virtue and honour in her name and you will never know defeat.
A royal lady should be the source of succour to her people. She should be the intercessor with her husband for the poor and lowly, the champion of the weak and oppressed who have recourse to her when all other hope is fled. She should be the benefactoress of the widow, the sick and the orphan, the solace of the old and the dying. Win your people's heart, and your husband's heart must be made of stone to withstand your wishes.
If your sister would take your advice, tell her that the way to win Alexander's heart is to be mistress of gentleness and persuasion. Tears and tantrums will not bend his will: his heart will harden against such storms. In his childhood he learnt stubbornness in the face of violence.
Yet he is not arrogant. He can be persuaded in wisdom and calmness to change his mind. He is generosity itself when he gives. Ask for nothing and he will give you the earth. Only love him with all your heart and hold nothing back.
Tell her that.
Tell her too that she must not be distressed if Alexander should seem to love others too much. It is just his way. He grows bored easily and like a child he loves to explore. Yet once you have won a place in his heart, it will always be yours. He will care for his wife to the end of his days.
When he looks your way, he will wholly be yours, wholly, even if it is only for the space of a smile. And such smiles will be the food of your soul for days. Believe me.
If the gods will it, we will meet again soon. If, perchance, they do not, I wish you children. I wish you a long life and many children to fill your heart with love and laughter. I wish your children to be yours and mine if the Fates decree, but if not, then love your sister's children for me. Love your sister and Alexander's children with all your heart as though they were ours. And if Alexander should take you to wife, do not spurn him. Love and cherish him for me.
I wish I had kissed you once in farewell. Not as a brother kisses his sister, but as a husband kisses his wife. Forgive me. Forgive me my selfishness. I will make amends when we meet again and will greet you as a husband greets his wife, as a woman, not as a child.
Take care of your health, my dearest Drypetis. Take care of your family's health until we all meet again.
Your Hephaestion.