some through the enemy themselves, others past the Hellenes.  They, as they saw them coming, opened a gap and let them pass.  One fellow, like some dumbfoundered mortal on a racecourse, was caught by the heels, but even he, they said, received no hurt, nor indeed, with the single exception of some one on the left wing who was said to have been wounded by an arrow, did any Hellene in this battle suffer a single hurt.

[4] Some critics regard this sentence as an editor’s or commentator’s
    note.

Cyrus, seeing the Hellene’s conquering, as far as they at any rate were concerned, and in hot pursuit, was well content; but in spite of his joy and the salutations offered him at that moment by those about 21 him, as though he were already king, he was not led away to join in the pursuit, but keeping his squadron of six hundred horsemen in cloe order, waited and watched to see what the king himself would do.  The king, he knew, held the centre of the Persian army.  Indeed it is the fashion for the Asiatic monarch to occupy that position during action, for this twofold reason:  he holds the safest place, with his troops on either side of him, while, if he has occasion to despatch any necessary rider along the lines, his troops will receive the message in half the time.  The king accordingly on this occasion held the centre of his army, but for all that, he was outside Cyrus’s left wing; and seeing that no one offered him battle in front, nor yet the troops in front of him, he wheeled as if to encircle the enemy.  It was then that Cyrus, in apprehension lest the king might get round to the rear and cut to pieces the Hellenic body, charged to meet him.  Attacking with his six hundred, he mastered the line of troops in front of the king, and put to flight the six thousand, cutting down, as is said, with his own hand their general, Artagerses.

But as soon as the rout commenced, Cyrus’s own six hundred themselves, in the ardour of pursuit, were scattered, with the exception of a handful who were left with Cyrus himself—­chiefly his table companions, so-called.  Left alone with these, he caught sight of the king, and the close throng about him.  Unable longer to contain himself, with a cry, “I see the man,” he rushed at him and dealt a blow at his chest, wounding him through the corselet.  This, according to the statement of Ctesias the surgeon[5], who further states that he himself healed the wound.  As Cyrus delivered the blow, some one struck him with a javelin under the eye severely; and in the struggle which then ensued between the king and Cyrus and those about them to protect one or other, we have the statement of Ctesias as to the number slain 27 on the king’s side, for he was by his side.  On the other, Cyrus himself fell, and eight of his bravest companions lay on the top of him.  The story says that Artapes, the trustiest among his wand-wearers, when he saw that Cyrus had fallen to the ground, leapt from his horse and threw his arms about him.  Then, as one account says, the king bade one slay him as a worthy victim to his brother:  others say that Artapates drew his scimitar and slew himself by his own hand.  A golden scimitar it is true, he had; he wore also a collar and bracelets and the other ornaments such as the noblest Persians wear; for his kindliness and fidelity had won him honours at the hands of Cyrus.