[21] Such was his method with the truants; with those who came forward
he felt, since he was their rightful leader, that he could best incite
them to noble deeds by trying to show that he himself had all the
virtues that became a man. [22] He believed that men do grow better
through written laws, and he held that the good ruler is a living law
with eyes that see, inasmuch as he is competent to guide and also to
detect the sinner and chastise him. [23] Thus he took pains to show
that he was the more assiduous in his service to the gods the higher
his fortunes rose. It was at this time that the Persian priests, the
Magians, were first established as an order, and always at break of day
Cyrus chanted a hymn and sacrificed to such of the gods as they might
name. [24] And the ordinances he established service to this day at the
court of the reigning king. These were the first matters in which the
Persians set themselves to copy their prince; feeling their own fortune
would be the higher if they did reverence to the gods, following the man
who was fortune's favourite and their own monarch. At the same time, no
doubt, they thought they would please Cyrus by this. [25] On his side
Cyrus looked on the piety of his subjects as a blessing to himself,
reckoning as they do who prefer to sail in the company of pious men
rather than with those who are suspected of wicked deeds, and he
reckoned further that if all his partners were god-fearing, they would
be the less prone to crime against each other or against himself, for he
knew he was the benefactor of his fellows. [26] And by showing plainly
his own deep desire never to be unfair to friend or fellow-combatant or
ally, but always to fix his eyes on justice and rectitude, he believed
he could induce others to keep from base actions and walk in the paths
of righteousness. [27] And he would bring more modesty, he hoped, into
the hearts of all men if it were plain that he himself reverenced all
the world and would never say a shameful word to any man or woman or do
a shameful deed. [28] He looked for this because he saw that, apart
from kings and governors who may be supposed to inspire fear, men will
reverence the modest and not the shameless, and modesty in women will
inspire modesty in the men who behold them. [29] And his people, he
thought, would learn to obey if it were plain that he honoured frank and
prompt obedience even above virtues that made a grander show and were
harder to attain. [30] Such was his belief, and his practice went with
it to the end. His own temperance and the knowledge of it made others
more temperate. When they saw moderation and self-control in the man who
above all others had licence to be insolent, lesser men were the more
ready to abjure all insolence of their own. [31] But there was this
difference, Cyrus held, between modesty and self-control: the modest
man will do nothing shameful in the light of day, but the man of
self-control nothing base, not even in secret. [32] Self-restrain, he
believed, would best be cultivated if he made men see in himself one who
could not be dragged from the pursuit of virtue by the pleasure of the
moment, one who chose to toil first for the happy-hearted joys that go
hand-in-hand with beauty and nobleness. [33] Thus, being the man he
was, he established at his gates a stately company, where the lower gave
place to the higher, and they in their turn showed reverence to each
other, and courtesy, and perfect harmony. Among them all there was never
a cry of anger to be heard, nor a burst of insolent laughter; to look at
them was to know that they lived for honour and loveliness.
[34] Such was the life at the palace-gates, and to practise his nobles
in martial exercises he would lead them out to the hunt whenever he
thought it well, holding the chase to be the best training for war and
the surest way to excellence in horsemanship. [35] A man learns to keep
his seat, no matter what the ground may be, as he follows the flying
quarry, learns to hurl and strike on horseback in his eagerness to bring
down the game and win applause. [36] And here, above all, was the field
in which to inure his colleagues to toil and hardship and cold and heat
and hunger and thirst. Thus to this day the Persian monarch and his
court spend their leisure in the chase. [37] From all that has been
said, it is clear Cyrus was convinced that no one has a right to rule
who is not superior to his subjects, and he held that by imposing
such exercises as these on those about him, he would lead them to
self-control and bring to perfection the art and discipline of war. [38]
Accordingly he would put himself at the head of the hunting-parties and
take them out himself unless he was bound to stay at home, and, if he
was, he would hunt in his parks among the wild creatures he had reared.
He would never touch the evening meal himself until he had sweated for
it, nor give his horses their corn until they had been exercised, and
he would invite his own mace-bearers to join him in the chase. [39]
Therefore he excelled in all knightly accomplishments, he and those
about him, because of their constant practice. Such was the example he
set before his friends. But he also kept his eye on others, and would
single out those who worshipped noble deeds, and reward them with gifts,
and high commands, and seats at festivals, and every kind of honour.
And thus their hearts were filled with ambition, and every man longed to
outdo his fellows in the eyes of Cyrus.
[40] But we seem to learn also that Cyrus thought it necessary for the
ruler not only to surpass his subjects by his own native worth, but also
to charm them through deception and artifice. At any rate he adopted the
Median dress, and persuaded his comrades to do likewise; he thought it
concealed any bodily defect, enhancing the beauty and stature of the
wearer. [41] The shoe, for instance, was so devised that a sole could be
added without notice, and the man would seem taller than he really was.
So also Cyrus encouraged the use of ointments to make the eyes more
brilliant and pigments to make the skin look fairer. [42] And he trained
his courtiers never to spit or blow the nose in public or turn aside
to stare at anything; they were to keep the stately air of persons
whom nothing can surprise. These were all means to one end; to make it
impossible for the subjects to despise their rulers.
[43] Thus he moulded the men he considered worthy of command by his own
example, by the training he gave them, and by the dignity of his own
leadership. But the treatment of those he prepared for slavery was
widely different. Not one of them would he incite to any noble toil, he
would not even let them carry arms, and he was careful that they should
never lack food or drink in any manly sort. [44] When the beaters drove
the wild creatures into the plain he would allow food to be brought for
the servants, but not for the free men; on a march he would lead the
slaves to the water-springs as he led the beasts of burden. Or when it
was the hour of breakfast he would wait himself till they had taken a
snatch of food and stayed their wolfish hunger; and the end of it was
they called him their father even as the nobles did, because he cared
for them, but the object of his care was to keep them slaves for ever.
[45] Thus he secured the safety of the Persian empire. He himself, he
felt sure, ran no danger from the massages of the conquered people; he
saw they had no courage, no unity, and no discipline, and, moreover, not
one of them could ever come near him, day or night. [46] But there were
others whom he knew to be true warriors, who carried arms, and who
held by one another, commanders of horse and foot, many of them men of
spirit, confident, as he could plainly see, of their own power to rule,
men who were in close touch with his own guards, and many of them in
constant intercourse with himself; as indeed was essential if he was
to make any use of them at all. It was from them that danger was to be
feared; and that in a thousand ways. [47] How was he to guard against
it? He rejected the idea of disarming them; he thought this unjust,
and that it would lead to the dissolution of the empire. To refuse them
admission into his presence, to show them his distrust, would be, he
considered, a declaration of war. [48] But there was one method, he
felt, worth all the rest, an honourable method and one that would secure
his safety absolutely; to win their friendship if he could, and make
them more devoted to himself than to each other. I will now endeavour
to set forth the methods, so far as I conceive them, by which he gained
their love.
[C.2] In the first place he never lost an opportunity of showing
kindliness wherever he could, convinced that just as it is not easy to
love those who hate us, so it is scarcely possible to feel enmity for
those who love us and wish us well. [2] So long as he had lacked the
power to confer benefits by wealth, all he could do then was to show
his personal care for his comrades and his soldiers, to labour in their
behalf, manifest his joy in their good fortune and his sympathy in their
sorrows, and try to win them in that way. But when the time came for the
gifts of wealth, he realised that of all the kindnesses between man
and man none come with a more natural grace than the gifts of meat and
drink. [3] Accordingly he arranged that his table should be spread every
day for many guests in exactly the same way as for himself; and all that
was set before him, after he and his guests had dined, he would send out
to his absent friends, in token of affection and remembrance. He would
include those who had won his approval by their work on guard, or in
attendance on himself, or in any other service, letting them see that no
desire to please him could ever escape his eyes. [4] He would show the
same honour to any servant he wished to praise; and he had all the
food for them placed at his own board, believing this would win their
fidelity, as it would a dog's. Or, if he wished some friend of his to be
courted by the people, he would single him out for such gifts; even to
this day the world will pay court to those who have dishes sent them
from the Great King's table, thinking they must be in high favour at
the palace and can get things done for others. But no doubt there was
another reason for the pleasure in such gifts, and that was the sheer
delicious taste of the royal meats. [5] Nor should that surprise us;
for if we remember to what a pitch of perfection the other crafts are
brought in great communities, we ought to expect the royal dishes to be
wonders of finished art. In a small city the same man must make beds
and chairs and ploughs and tables, and often build houses as well; and
indeed he will be only too glad if he can find enough employers in all
trades to keep him. Now it is impossible that a single man working at a
dozen crafts can do them all well; but in the great cities, owing to the
wide demand for each particular thing, a single craft will suffice for a
means of livelihood, and often enough even a single department of that;
there are shoe-makers who will only make sandals for men and others only
for women. Or one artisan will get his living merely by stitching shoes,
another by cutting them out, a third by shaping the upper leathers, and
a fourth will do nothing but fit the parts together. Necessarily the man
who spends all his time and trouble on the smallest task will do that
task the best. [6] The arts of the household must follow the same law.
If one and the same servant makes the bed, spreads the table, kneads the
dough, and cooks the various dishes, the master must take things as they
come, there is no help for it. But when there is work enough for one man
to boil the pot, and another to roast the meat, and a third to stew the
fish, and a fourth to fry it, while some one else must bake the bread,
and not all of it either, for the loaves must be of different kinds,
and it will be quite enough if the baker can serve up one kind to
perfection--it is obvious, I think, that in this way a far higher
standard of excellence will be attained in every branch of the work.
[7] Thus it is easy to see how Cyrus could outdo all competitors in the
grace of hospitality, and I will now explain how he came to triumph
in all other services. Far as he excelled mankind in the scale of his
revenues, he excelled them even more in the grandeur of his gifts. It
was Cyrus who set the fashion; and we are familiar to this day with the
open-handedness of Oriental kings. [8] There is no one, indeed, in all
the world whose friends are seen to be as wealthy as the friends of the
Persian monarch: no one adorns his followers in such splendour of
rich attire, no gifts are so well known as his, the bracelets, and the
necklaces, and the chargers with the golden bridles. For in that country
no one can have such treasures unless the king has given them. [9] And
of whom but the Great King could it be said that through the splendour
of his presents he could steal the hearts of men and turn them to
himself, away from brothers, fathers, sons? Who but he could stretch out
an arm and take vengeance on his enemies when yet they were months and
months away? Who but Cyrus ever won an empire in war, and when he died
was called father by the people he overcame?--a title that proclaims the
benefactor and not the robber. [10] Indeed, we are led to think that the
offices called "the king's eyes" and "the king's ears" came into being
through this system of gifts and honours. Cyrus' munificence toward
all who told him what it was well for him to know set countless people
listening with all their ears and watching with all their eyes for news
that might be of service to him. [11] Thus there sprang up a host of
"king's eyes" and "king's ears," as they were called, known and reputed
to be such. But it is a mistake to suppose that the king has one chosen
"eye." It is little that one man can see or one man hear, and to hand
over the office to one single person would be to bid all others go to
sleep. Moreover, his subjects would feel they must be on their guard
before the man they knew was "the king's eye." The contrary is the case;
the king will listen to any man who asserts that he has heard or seen
anything that needs attention. [12] Hence the saying that the king has
a thousand eyes and a thousand ears; and hence the fear of uttering
anything against his interest since "he is sure to hear," or doing
anything that might injure him "since he may be there to see." So far,
therefore, from venturing to breathe a syllable against Cyrus, every man
felt that he was under the eye and within the hearing of a king who was
always present. For this universal feeling towards him I can give no
other reason than his resolve to be a benefactor on a most mighty scale.
[13] It is not surprising, no doubt, that being the wealthiest of men,
he could outdo the world in the splendour of his gifts. The remarkable
thing was to find a king outstrip his courtiers in courtesy and
kindness. There was nothing, so the story runs, that could ever shame
him more than to be outdone in courtesy. [14] Indeed, a saying of his is
handed down comparing a good king to a good shepherd--the shepherd must
manage his flock by giving them all they need, and the king must satisfy
the needs of his cities and his subjects if he is to manage them. We
need not wonder, then, that with such opinions his ambition was to excel
mankind in courtesy and care. [15] There was a noble illustration of his
philosophy in the answer we are told he gave to Croesus, who had
taken him to task, saying his lavish gifts would bring him to beggary,
although he could lay by more treasures for himself than any man had
ever had before. Cyrus, it is said, asked him in return, "How much
wealth do you suppose I could have amassed already, had I collected
gold, as you bid me, ever since I came into my empire?"
[16] And Croesus named an enormous sum. Then Cyrus said, "Listen,
Croesus, here is my friend, Hystaspas, and you must send with him a man
that you can trust." Then, turning to Hystaspas, "Do you," he said,
"go round to my friends and tell them that I need money for a certain
enterprise--and that is true, I do need it. Bid each of them write down
the amount he can give me, seal the letter, and hand it to the messenger
of Croesus, who will bring it here." [17] Thereupon Cyrus wrote his
wishes and put his seal on the letter, and gave it to Hystaspas to carry
round, only he added a request that they should all welcome Hystaspas
as a friend of his. And when the messengers came back, the officer of
Croesus carrying the answers, Hystaspas cried, "Cyrus, my lord, you must
know I am a rich man now! I have made my fortune, thanks to your letter!
They have loaded me with gifts." [18] And Cyrus said, "There, Croesus,
that is treasure number one; and now run through the rest, and count
what sums I have in hand, in case I need them." And Croesus counted,
and found, so the story tells us, that the sum was far larger than the
amount he had said would have been lying in the treasury if only Cyrus
had made a hoard. [19] At this discovery Cyrus said, so we are told,
"You see, Croesus, I have my treasures too. Only you advise me to
collect them and hide them, and be envied and hated because of them, and
set mercenaries to guard them, putting my trust in hirelings. But I
hold to it that if I make my friends rich they will be my treasures
themselves, and far better guards too, for me and all we have, than if I
set hired watchmen over my wealth. [20] And I have somewhat else to say;
I tell you, Croesus, there is something the gods have implanted in our
souls, and there they have made us all beggars alike, something I can
never overcome. [21] I too, like all the rest, am insatiate of riches,
only in one respect I fancy I am different. Most men when they have more
wealth than they require bury some of it underground, and let some of it
rot, and some they count and measure, and they guard it and they air
it, and give themselves a world of trouble, and yet for all their
wealth they cannot eat more than they have stomach for--they would burst
asunder if they did--nor wear more clothes than they can carry--they
would die of suffocation--and so their extra wealth means nothing but
extra work. [22] For my part, I serve the gods, and I stretch out my
hands for more and more; only when I have got what is beyond my own
requirements I piece out the wants of my friends, and so, helping my
fellows, I purchase their love and their goodwill, and out of these I
garner security and renown, fruits that can never rot, rich meats that
can work no mischief; for glory, the more it grows, the grander it
becomes, and the fairer, and the lighter to be borne; it even gives a
lighter step to those who bear it. [23] One thing more, Croesus, I would
have you know; the happiest men, in my judgment, are not the holders
of vast riches and the masters who have the most to guard; else the
sentinels of our citadels would be the happiest of mortals, seeing they
guard the whole wealth of the state. He, I hold, has won the crown
of happiness who has had the skill to gain wealth by the paths of
righteousness and use it for all that is honourable and fair."
[24] That was the doctrine Cyrus preached, and all men could see that
his practice matched his words.
Moreover, he observed that the majority of mankind, if they live in good
health for long, will only lay by such stores and requisites as may be
used by a healthy man, and hardly care at all to have appliances at hand
in case of sickness. But Cyrus was at the pains to provide these; he
encouraged the ablest physicians of the day by his liberal payments, and
if ever they recommended an instrument or a drug or a special kind of
food or drink, he never failed to procure it and have it stored in the
palace.
[25] And whenever any one fell sick among those who had peculiar claims
on his attentions, he would visit them and bring them all they needed,
and he showed especial gratitude to the doctors if they cured their
patients by the help of his own stores. [26] These measures, and others
like them, he adopted to win the first place in the hearts of those
whose friendship he desired. Moreover, the contests he proclaimed and
the prizes he offered to awaken ambition and desire for gallant deeds
all redounded to his own glory as a man who had the pursuit of nobleness
at heart, while they bred strife and bitter rivalry among the champions
themselves. [27] Further, he laid it down that in every matter needing
arbitration, whether it were a suit-at-law or a trial of skill, the
parties should concur in their choice of a judge. Each would try to
secure the most powerful man he knew and the one most friendly to
himself, and if he lost he envied his successful rival and hated the
judge who had declared against him, while the man who won claimed to win
because his case was just and felt he owed no gratitude to anybody.
[28] Thus all who wished to be first in the affections of Cyrus, just as
others in democratic states, were full of rancour against each other, in
fact most of them would sooner have seen their rivals exterminated than
join with them for any common good. Such are some of the devices by
which he made the ablest of his subjects more attached to himself than
to one another.
[C.3] I will now describe the first public progress that Cyrus made. For
the very solemnity of the ceremony was one of the artifices by which
he won reverence for his government. The day before it he summoned the
officers of state, the Persians and the others, and gave them all the
splendid Median dress. This was the first time the Persians wore it,
and as they received the robes he said that he wished to drive in his
chariot to the sacred precincts and offer sacrifice with them. [2] "You
will present yourselves at my gates," he added, "before the sun rises,
attired in these robes, and you will take your places where Pheraulas
the Persian bids you on my behalf. As soon as I lead the way you will
follow in your appointed order. And if any of you should think of some
change to heighten the beauty and stateliness of our procession, you
will acquaint me with it, I pray, on our return; it is for us to see
that all is done in the manner you feel to be most beautiful and best."
[3] With that Cyrus gave the most splendid robes to his chief notables,
and then he brought out others, for he had stores of Median garments,
purple and scarlet and crimson and glowing red, and gave a share to each
of his generals and said to them, "Adorn your friends, as I have adorned
you." [4] Then one of them asked him, "And you, O Cyrus, when will you
adorn yourself?" But he answered, "Is it not adornment enough for me
to have adorned you? If I can but do good to my friends, I shall look
glorious enough, whatever robe I wear."
[5] So his nobles took their leave, and sent for their friends and
put the splendid raiment on them. Meanwhile Cyrus summoned Pheraulas,
knowing that, while he was a man of the people, he was also
quick-witted, a lover of the beautiful, prompt to understand and to
obey, and one who had ever an eye to please his master. It was he who
had supported Cyrus long ago when he proposed that honour should be
given in proportion to desert. And now Cyrus asked him how he thought
the procession might be made most beautiful in the eyes of friends and
most formidable in the sight of foes. [6] So they took counsel and were
of the same mind, and Cyrus bade Pheraulas see that all was done on the
morrow as they had agreed.
"I have issued orders," he added, "for all to obey you in the matter,
but to make them the more willing, take these tunics yourself and give
them to the captains of the guard, and these military cloaks for the
cavalry officers, and these tunics for those who command the chariots."
[7] So Pheraulas took the raiment and departed, and when the generals
saw him, they met him with shouts and cries, "A monstrous fine fellow
you are, Pheraulas!" said one: "you are to give us our orders, it
seems!"
"Oh, yes," said Pheraulas, "and carry your baggage too. Here I come with
two cloaks as it is, one for you and another for somebody else: you must
choose whichever you like the best."
[8] At that the officer put out his hand to take the cloak; he had clean
forgotten his jealousy, and fell to asking Pheraulas which he had
better choose. And Pheraulas gave his advice, adding, "But if you inform
against me, and let out that I gave you the choice, the next time I have
to wait upon you you will find me a very different sort of serving-man."
Thus he distributed the gifts he brought, and then he saw to the
arrangements for the procession so that everything should be as far as
possible.
[9] On the morrow all things were ready before day-break, ranks lining
the road on either hand, as they do to this day when the king is
expected to ride abroad--no one may pass within the lines unless he is
a man of mark--and constables were posted with whips, to use at any sign
of disturbance.
In front of the palace stood the imperial guard of lancers, four
thousand strong, drawn up four deep on either side of the gates. [10]
And all the cavalry were there, the men standing beside their horses,
with their hands wrapped in their cloaks, as is the custom to this day
for every subject when the king's eye is on him. The Persians stood on
the right, and the allies on the left, and the chariots were posted in
the same way, half on one side and half on the other. [11] Presently the
palace-gates were flung open, and at the head of the procession were
led out the bulls for sacrifice, beautiful creatures, four and four
together. They were to be offered to Zeus and to any other gods that the
Persian priests might name. For the Persians think it of more importance
to follow the guidance of the learned in matters pertaining to the gods
than in anything else whatever.
[12] After the oxen came horses, an offering to the Sun, then a white
chariot with a golden yoke, hung with garlands and dedicated to Zeus,
and after that the white car of the Sun, wreathed like the one before
it, and then a third chariot, the horses of which were caparisoned with
scarlet trappings, and behind walked men carrying fire upon a mighty
hearth. [13] And then at last Cyrus himself was seen, coming forth from
the gates in his chariot, wearing his tiara on his head, and a purple
tunic shot with white, such as none but the king may wear, and trews of
scarlet, and a cloak of purple. Round his tiara he wore a diadem, and
his kinsmen wore the same, even as the custom is to this day. [14]
And the king's hands hung free outside his cloak. Beside him stood a
charioteer--he was a tall man, but he seemed to be dwarfed by Cyrus;
whether it was really so, or whether there was some artifice at work,
Cyrus towered above him. At the sight of the king, the whole company
fell on their faces. Perhaps some had been ordered to do this and so
set the fashion, or perhaps the multitude were really overcome by the
splendour of the pageant and the sight of Cyrus himself, stately and
tall and fair. [15] For hitherto none of the Persians had done obeisance
to Cyrus.
And now, as the chariot moved onwards, the four thousand lancers went
before it, two thousand on either side, and close behind came the
mace-bearers, mounted on horseback, with javelins in their hands, three
hundred strong. [16] Then the royal steeds were led past, with golden
bridles and striped housings, two hundred and more, and then followed
two thousand spearmen and after them the squadron of cavalry first
formed, ten thousand men, a hundred deep and a hundred riding abreast,
with Chrysantas at their head. [17] And behind them the second body
of the Persian horse, ten thousand more, in the same order, under
Hystaspas, and then again ten thousand under Datamas, and others behind
them under Gadatas. [18] And after them the Median cavalry, and then
the Armenians, the Hyrcanians, the Cadousians, and the Sakians in their
order; and after the cavalry a squadron of war-chariots, drawn up four
deep, with Artabatas the Persian in command.
[19] All along the route thousands of men followed, outside the
barriers, with petitions to Cyrus. Accordingly he sent his mace-bearers,
who rode beside him for the purpose, three on either side of his
chariot, bidding them tell the crowd of suitors, if they had need of
anything, to acquaint one of the cavalry officers and he would speak for
them. So the petitioners withdrew, and fell to marching along the
lines of the cavalry, considering whom they should address. [20] Cyrus
meanwhile would send messengers to the friends he wished to be courted,
saying to them, "If any man appeals to you and you think nothing of what
he says, pay no heed to him, but if his request seems just, report it to
me, and we will discuss it together and arrange matters for him." [21]
As a rule the officers so summoned did not loiter, but dashed up at
full speed, glad to enhance the authority of Cyrus and to show their
own allegiance. But there was a certain Daipharnes, a person of somewhat
boorish manners, who fancied that he would make a show of greater
independence if he did not hurry himself. [22] Cyrus noted this, and
quietly, before the man could reach him, sent another messenger to say
he had no further need of him; and that was the last time Daipharnes
was ever summoned. [23] And when the next officer rode up, in front of
Daipharnes though sent for after him, Cyrus presented him with a horse
from his train and bade one of the mace-bearers lead it wherever he
wished. The people saw in this a high mark of honour; and a greater
crowd than ever paid their court to the favoured man.
[24] When the procession reached the sacred precincts, sacrifice
was offered to Zeus, a whole burnt-offering of bulls, and a whole
burnt-offering of horses to the Sun; and then they sacrificed to the
Earth, slaying the victims as the Persian priests prescribed, and then
to the heroes who hold the Syrian land. [25] And when the rites were
done, Cyrus, seeing that the ground was suitable for racing, marked out
a goal, and a course half-a-mile in length, and bade the cavalry and
the chariots match their horses against each other, tribe by tribe. He
himself raced among his Persians, and won with ease, for he was far the
best horseman there. The winner among the Medes was Artabazus, the
horse he rode being a gift from Cyrus. The Syrian race was won by their
chieftain, the Armenian by Tigranes, the Hyrcanian by the general's son,
and the Sakian by a private soldier who left all his rivals half the
course behind him.
[26] Cyrus, so the story says, asked the young man if he would take a
kingdom for his horse.
"No kingdom for me," answered the soldier, "but I would take the thanks
of a gallant fellow."
[27] "Well," said Cyrus, "I would like to show you where you could
hardly fail to hit one, even if you shut your eyes."
"Be so good as to show me now," said the Sakian, "and I will take aim
with this clod," picking up one from the ground.
[28] Then Cyrus pointed to a group of his best friends, and the other
shut his eyes and flung the clod, and it struck Pheraulas as he galloped
by, bearing some message from Cyrus. But he never so much as turned,
flashing past on his errand. [29] Then the Sakian opened his eyes and
asked whom he had hit?
"Nobody, I assure you," said Cyrus, "who is here."
"And nobody who is not, of course," said the young man.
"Oh yes, you did," answered Cyrus, "you hit that officer over there who
is riding so swiftly paste the chariot-lines."
[30] "And how is it," asked the other, "that he does not even turn his
head?"
"Half-witted, probably," said Cyrus.
Whereat the young man rode off to see who it was, and found Pheraulas,
with his chin and beard all begrimed and bloody, gore trickling from his
nostrils were the clod had struck him. [31] The Sakian cried out to know
if he was hit.
"As you see," answered Pheraulas.
"Then," said the other, "let me give you my horse."
"But why?" asked Pheraulas.
And so the Sakian had to tell him all about the matter, adding, "And
after all, you see, I did not miss a gallant fellow."
[32] "Ah," said Pheraulas, "if you had been wise, you would have chosen
a richer one; but I take your gift with all my thanks. And I pray the
gods," he added, "who let me be your target, to help me now and see that
you may never regret your gift. For the present, mount my horse yourself
and ride back; I will be with you shortly."
So they exchanged steeds and parted.
The winner of the Cadousian race was Rathines.
[33] Then followed chariot-races, tribe by tribe as before: and to all
the winners Cyrus gave goblets of price, and oxen, that they might have
the wherewithal for sacrifice and feasting. He himself took an ox for
his own meed, but he gave all the goblets to Pheraulas to show his
approval of the arrangements for the march. [34] And the manner of that
procession, then first established by Cyrus, continues to this day, the
same in all things, save that the victims are absent when there is no
sacrifice. And when it was over, the soldiers went back to the city, and
took up their quarters for the night, some in houses and some with their
regiments.
[35] Now Pheraulas had invited the Sakian who had given him the horse,
and he entertained him with the best he had, and set before him a full
board, and after they had dined he filled the goblets Cyrus had given
him, and drank to his guest, and offered them all to him. [36] And
the Sakian looked round on the rich and costly rugs, and the beautiful
furniture, and the train of servants, and cried:
"Tell me, Pheraulas, do you belong to wealthy folk at home?"
[37] "Wealthy folk indeed!" cried Pheraulas, "men who live by their
hands, you mean. My father, I can tell you, had work enough to rear me
and get me a boy's schooling; he had to toil hard and live sparely, and
when I grew to be a lad he could not afford to keep me idle, he took me
to a farm in the country and set me there to work it. [38] Then it was
my turn, and I supported him while he lived, digging with my own hands
and sowing the seed in a ridiculous little plot of ground, and yet it
was not a bad bit of soil either, but as good and as honest earth as
ever you saw: whatever seed it got from me, it paid me back again, and
so prettily and carefully and duly, principal and interest both; not
that the interest was very much, I won't say it was, though once or
twice, out of pure generosity, that land gave me twice was much as I put
into it. That's how I used to live at home, in the old days: to-day it's
different, and all that you see here I owe to Cyrus."
[39] Then the Sakian cried:
"O lucky fellow! Lucky in everything, and most of all in coming to
wealth from beggary! I know your riches must taste the sweeter, because
you hungered for them first and now are full."
[40] But Pheraulas answered:
"Do you really think, my friend, that my joy in life has grown with the
growth of my wealth? Do you not know," he went on, "that I neither eat
nor drink nor sleep with any more zest than I did when I was poor? What
I get by all these goods is simply this: I have more to watch over, more
to distribute, and more trouble in looking after more. [41] I have a
host of servants now, one set asking me for food, another for drink,
another for clothing, and some must have the doctor, and then a herdsman
comes, carrying the carcase of some poor sheep mangled by the wolves, or
perhaps with an ox that has fallen down a precipice, or maybe he has to
tell me that a murrain has broken out among my flocks. It seems to me,"
Pheraulas ended, "that I suffer more to-day through having much than
ever I did before through having nothing."
[42] "But--Heaven help us!" cried the Sakian, "surely, when it is all
safe, to see so much of your own must make you much happier than me?"
"I assure you, my friend," said Pheraulas, "the possession of riches
is nothing like so sweet as the loss of them is painful. And here is a
proof for you: no rich man lies awake from pure joy at his wealth, but
did you ever know a man who could close his eyes when he was losing?"
[43] "No," said the Sakian, "nor yet one who could drop asleep when he
was winning."
[44] "True enough," answered the other, "and if having were as sweet as
getting, the rich would be a thousand times more happy than the poor.
And remember, stranger," he added, "a man who has much must spend much
on the gods and his friends and his guests, and if he takes intense
delight in his riches, spending will cause him intense annoyance."
[45] "Upon my word," said the Sakian, "for myself, I am not that sort
of man at all: to have much and to spend much is just my idea of perfect
happiness."
[46] "Heavens!" cried Pheraulas, "what a chance for us both! You can win
perfect happiness now, this instant, and make me happy too! Here, take
all these things for your own, make what use of them you please; and
as for me, you can keep me as your guest, only much more cheaply if
you like: it will be quite enough for me to share whatever you have
yourself."
"You are jesting," said the Sakian.
[47] But Pheraulas swore with all solemnity that he spoke in earnest.
"Yes, my friend," he added, "and there are other matters that I can
arrange for you with Cyrus: freedom from military service or attendance
at the gates. All you will have to do will be to stay at home and grow
rich: I will do the rest on your behalf and mine. And if I win any
treasure through my service at court or on the field, I will bring it
home to you, and you will be lord of more; only," he added, "you must
free me from the responsibility of looking after it, for if you give me
leisure from these cares I believe you will be of great use to Cyrus and
myself."
[48] So the talk ended and they struck a bargain on these terms, and
kept it. And the Sakian thought he had found happiness because he was
the master of much wealth, and the other felt he was in bliss because he
had got a steward who would leave him leisure to do what he liked
best. [49] For the character of Pheraulas was amiable: he was a loving
comrade, and no service seemed so sweet to him or so helpful as the
service of man. Man, he believed, was the noblest of the animals and the
most grateful: praise, Pheraulas saw, will reap counter-praise, kindness
will stir kindness in return, and goodwill goodwill; those whom men know
to love them they cannot hate, and, in a way no other animals will, they
cherish their parents in life and in death and requite their care. All
other creatures, in short, compared with man, are lacking in gratitude
and heart.
[50] Thus Pheraulas was overjoyed to feel that he could now be quit of
anxiety for his wealth, and devote himself to his friends, while the
Sakian was delighted with all that he had and all that he could use. The
Sakian loved Pheraulas because he was for ever adding something to the
store, and Pheraulas loved the Sakian because he was willing to assume
the entire burden, and however much the cares increased he never broke
into the other's leisure. Thus those two lived their lives.
[C.4] Now Cyrus offered sacrifice and held high festival for his
victories, and he summoned to the feast those of his friends who bore
him most affection and had shown most desire to exalt him. With them
were bidden Artabazus the Mede, and Tigranes the Armenian, and the
commander of the Hyrcanian cavalry, and Gobryas. [2] Gadatas was the
chief of the mace-bearers, and the whole household was arranged as he
advised. When there were guests at dinner, Gadatas would not sit down,
but saw to everything, and when they were alone he sat at meat with
Cyrus, who took delight in his company, and in return for all his
services he was greatly honoured by Cyrus and that led to more honours
for others. [3] As the guests entered, Gadatas would show each man to
his seat, and the places were chosen with care: the friend whom Cyrus
honoured most was placed on his left hand (for that was the side
most open to attack), the second on his right, the third next to the
left-hand guest, and the fourth next to the right, and so on, whatever
the number of guests might be. [4] Cyrus thought it well it should be
known how much each man was honoured, for he saw that where the world
believes merit will win no crown and receive no proclamation, there the
spirit of emulation dies, but if all see that the best man gains most,
then the rivalry grows keen. [5] Thus it was that Cyrus marked out the
men he favoured by the seat of honour and the order of precedence. Nor
did he assign the honourable place to one friend for all time; he made
it a law that by good deeds a man might rise into a higher seat or
through sloth descend into a lower; and he would have felt ashamed if it
were not known that the guest most honoured at his table received most
favours at his hands. These customs that arose in the reign of Cyrus
continue to our time, as we can testify.
[6] While they were at the feast that day it struck Gobryas that though
there was nothing surprising in the abundance and variety at the table
of one who was lord over so vast an empire, yet it was strange that
Cyrus, who had done such mighty deeds, should never keep any dainty for
himself, but must always be at pains to share it with the company. More
than once also he saw Cyrus send off to an absent friend some dish that
had chanced to please him. [7] So that by the time they had finished
their meal all the viands had been given away by Cyrus, and the board
was bare.
Then Gobryas said, "Truly, Cyrus, until to-day I used to think it was in
generalship that you outshone other men the most, but, by heaven! I say
now it is not in generalship at all, it is generosity."
[8] "Maybe," said Cyrus, "at least I take far more pride in this work
than in the other."
"How can that be?" asked Gobryas.
"Because," said he, "the one does good to man and the other injury."
[9] Presently as the wine went round and round, Hystaspas turned to
Cyrus and said:
"Would you be angry, Cyrus, if I asked something I long to know?"
"On the contrary," answered Cyrus, "I should be vexed if I saw you
silent when you longed to ask."
"Tell me then," said the other, "have you ever called me and found I
refused to come?"
"What a question!" said Cyrus, "of course not."
"Well, have I ever been slow in coming?"
"No, never."
"Or failed to do anything you ordered?"
"No," said Cyrus, "I have no fault to find at all."
"Whatever I had to do, I always did it eagerly and with all my heart,
did I not?"
"Most assuredly," answered Cyrus.
[10] "Then why, Cyrus, why, in heaven's name, have you singled out
Chrysantas for a more honourable seat than me?"
"Shall I really tell you?" asked Cyrus in his turn.
"By all means," said the other.
"And you will not be annoyed if I tell you the plain truth?"
[11] "On the contrary, it will comfort me to know I have not been
wronged."
"Well, then, Chrysantas never waited to be called; he came of his own
accord on our behalf, and he made it his business to do, not merely what
he was ordered, but whatever he thought would help us. When something
had to be said to the allies, he would not only suggest what was fitting
for me to say myself, he would guess what I wanted the allies to know
but could not bring myself to utter, since it was about myself, and
he would say it for me as though it were his own opinion; in fact, for
everything of the kind he was nothing less to me than a second and a
better self. And now he is always insisting that what he has already
got is quite enough for himself, and always trying to discover something
more for me: he takes a greater pride and joy in all my triumphs than I
do myself."
[12] "By Hera," said Hystaspas, "I am right glad I asked you. Only one
thing puzzles me: how am I to show my joy at your success? Shall I clap
my hands and laugh, or what shall I do?"
"Dance the Persian dance, of course," said Artabazus. And all the
company laughed.
[13] And as the drinking deepened Cyrus put a question to Gobryas.
"Tell me, Gobryas, would you be better pleased to give your daughter to
one of our company to-day than the day when you met us first?"
"Well," said Gobryas, "am I also to tell the truth?"
"Certainly," said Cyrus, "no question looks for a lie."
"Then," said Gobryas, "I assure you, I would far rather give her in
marriage to-day."
"Can you tell us why?" said Cyrus.
"That I can," said he.
[14] "Say on, then."
"At that time, I saw, it is true, the gallant manner in which your men
endured toil and danger, but to-day I see the modesty with which they
bear success. And I believe, Cyrus, that the man who takes good-fortune
well is further to seek than he who can endure adversity; for success
engenders insolence in many hearts, while suffering teaches sobriety and
fortitude."
[15] And Cyrus said, "Hystaspas, did you hear the saying of Gobryas?"
"I did indeed," he answered, "and if he has many more as good, he will
find me a suitor for his daughter, a far more eager one than if he had
shown me all his goblets."
[16] "Well," said Gobryas, "I have many such written down at home,
and you may have them all if you take my daughter to wife. And as for
goblets," he added, "since it seems you cannot away with them, perhaps
I might give them to Chrysantas to punish him for having filled your
seat."
[17] "Listen to me," said Cyrus, "Hystaspas, and all of you. If you
will but tell me, any of you, when you propose to marry, you would soon
discover what a clever advocate you had in me."
[18] But Gobryas interposed, "And if one of us wants to give his
daughter in marriage, to whom should he apply?"
"To me also," answered Cyrus; "I assure you, I am adept in the art."
"What art is that?" Chrysantas inquired.
[19] "The art of discerning the wife to suit each man."
"Then by all the gods," said Chrysantas, "tell me what sort of wife would do for me?" |
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