Should he send her back to Egypt, disgraced and shamed?  Oh, no! she loved her country, and she would be received by her parents with open arms.  Should he, after she had confessed her guilt, (for he was determined to force a confession from her) shut her up in a solitary dungeon? or should he deliver her over to Boges, to be the servant of his concubines?  Yes! now he had hit upon the right punishment.  Thus the faithless creature should be disciplined, and the hypocrite, who had dared to make sport of him—­the All-powerful—­forced to atone for her crimes.

Then he said to himself:  “Bartja must not stay here; fire and water have more in common than we two—­he always fortunate and happy, and I so miserable.  Some day or other his descendants will divide my treasures, and wear my crown; but as yet I am king, and I will show that I am.”

The thought of his proud, powerful position flashed through him like lightning.  He woke from his dreams into new life, flung his golden goblet far into the hall, so that the wine flew round like rain, and cried:  “We have had enough of this idle talk and useless noise.  Let us hold a council of war, drunken as we are, and consider what answer we ought to give the Massagetae.  Hystaspes, you are the eldest, give us your opinion first.”

[Herod.  I. 134.  The Persians deliberated and resolved when they were intoxicated, and when they were sober reconsidered their determinations.  Tacitus tells the same of the old Germans.  Germ, c. 22.]

Hystaspes, the father of Darius, was an old man.  He answered:  “It seems to me, that the messengers of this wandering tribe have left us no choice.  We cannot go to war against desert wastes; but as our host is already under arms and our swords have lain long in their scabbards, war we must have.  We only want a few good enemies, and I know no easier work than to make them.”

At these words the Persians broke into loud shouts of delight; but Croesus only waited till the noise had ceased to say:  “Hystaspes, you and I are both old men; but you are a thorough Persian and fancy you can only be happy in battle and bloodshed.  You are now obliged to lean for support on the staff, which used to be the badge of your rank as commander, and yet you speak like a hot-blooded boy.  I agree with you that enemies are easy enough to find, but only fools go out to look for them.  The man who tries to make enemies is like a wretch who mutilates his own body.  If the enemies are there, let us go out to meet them like wise men who wish to look misfortune boldly in the face; but let us never try to begin an unjust war, hateful to the gods.  We will wait until wrong has been done us, and then go to victory or death, conscious that we have right on our side.”

The old man was interrupted by a low murmur of applause, drowned however quickly by cries of “Hystaspes is right! let us look for an enemy!”