Gobryas answered, bowing low:  “These men arrived this morning during the sacrifice bringing huge burdens of the purest gold to purchase your forbearance.  When they heard that a great festival was being celebrated in your honor, they urgently besought to be admitted into your presence, that they might declare the message entrusted to them by their country.”

The king’s brow cleared and, after sharply scrutinizing the tall, bearded Massageta, he said:  “Let them come nearer.  I am curious to know what proposals my father’s murderers are about to make me.”

Gobryas made a sign, and the tallest and eldest of the Massagetae came up close to the throne and began to speak loudly in his native tongue.  He was accompanied by the man in a Persian dress, who, as one of Cyrus’ prisoners of war, had learnt the Persian language, and now interpreted one by one the sentences uttered by the spokesman of this wandering tribe.

“We know,” began the latter, “that thou, great king, art wroth with the Massagetae because thy father fell in war with our tribe—­a war which he alone had provoked with a people who had done naught to offend him.”

“My father was justified in punishing your nation,” interrupted the king.  “Your Queen Tomyris had dared to refuse him her hand in marriage.”

“Be not wroth, O King,” answered the Massagetan, “when I tell thee that our entire nation approved of that act.  Even a child could see that the great Cyrus only desired to add our queen to the number of his wives, hoping, in his insatiable thirst for more territories, to gain our land with her.”

Cambyses was silent and the envoy went on.  “Cyrus caused a bridge to be made over our boundary river, the Araxes.  We were not dismayed at this, and Tomyris sent word that he might save himself this trouble, for that the Massagetae were willing either to await him quietly in their own land, leaving the passage of the river free, or to meet him in his.  Cyrus decided, by the advice of the dethroned king of Lydia, (as we learnt afterwards, through some prisoners of war) on meeting us in our own land and defeating us by a stratagem.  With this intention he sent at first only a small body of troops, which could be easily dispersed and destroyed by our arrows and lances, and allowed us to seize his camp without striking a blow.  Believing we had defeated this insatiable conqueror, we feasted on his abundant stores, and, poisoned by the sweet unknown drink which you call wine, fell into a stupefied slumber, during which his soldiers fell upon us, murdered the greater number of our warriors and took many captives.  Among the latter was the brave, young Spargapises, our queen’s son.

“Hearing in his captivity, that his mother was willing to conclude peace with your nation as the price of his liberty, he asked to have his chains taken off.  The request was granted, and on obtaining the use of his hands he seized a sword and stabbed himself, exclaiming:  ’I sacrifice my life for the freedom of my nation.’”