One hour later the sentence was submitted to the king for ratification.  It ran thus:  “Victory to the king!  Inasmuch as Cambyses, the eye of the world and the sun of righteousness, hath, in his great mercy, which is as broad as the heavens and as inexhaustible as the great deep, commanded us to punish the crime of the son of the Magi, Gaumata, with the indulgence of a mother instead of with the severity of a judge, we, the seven judges of the realm, have determined to grant his forfeited life.  Inasmuch, however, as by the folly of this youth the lives of the noblest and best in this realm have been imperilled, and it may reasonably be apprehended that he may again abuse the marvellous likeness to Bartja, the noble son of Cyrus, in which the gods have been pleased in their mercy to fashion his form and face, and thereby bring prejudice upon the pure and righteous, we have determined to disfigure him in such wise, that in the time to come it will be a light matter to discern between this, the most worthless subject of the realm, and him who is most worthy.  We therefore, by the royal Will and command, pronounce sentence, that both the ears of Gaumata be cut off, for the honor of the righteous and shame of the impure.”

Cambyses confirmed this sentence at once, and it was executed the same day.

[With reference to Gaumata’s punishment, the same which Herodotus says was inflicted on the pretended Smerdis, we would observe that even Persians of high rank were sometimes deprived of their ears.  In the Behistan inscription (Spiegel p. 15 and 21.) the ears, tongue and nose of the man highest in rank among the rebels, were cut off.  Similar punishments are quoted by Brisson.]

Oropastes did not dare to intercede for his brother, though this ignominious punishment mortified his ambitious mind more than even a sentence of death could have done.  As he was afraid that his own influence and consideration might suffer through this mutilated brother, he ordered him to leave Babylon at once for a country-house of his own on Mount Arakadris.

During the few days which had just passed, a shabbily-dressed and closely-veiled woman had watched day and night at the great gate of the palace; neither the threats of the sentries nor the coarse jests of the palace-servants could drive her from her post.  She never allowed one of the less important officials to pass without eagerly questioning him, first as to the state of the Egyptian Princess, and then what had become of Gaumata.  When his sentence was told her as a good joke by a chattering lamp-lighter, she went off into the strangest excitement, and astonished the poor man so much by kissing his robe, that he thought she must be crazed, and gave her an alms.  She refused the money, but remained at her post, subsisting on the bread which was given her by the compassionate distributors of food.  Three days later Gaumata himself, with his head bound up, was driven out in a closed harmamaxa.  She rushed to the carriage and ran screaming by the side of it, until the driver stopped his mules and asked what she wanted.  She threw back her veil and showed the poor, suffering youth her pretty face covered with deep blushes.  Gaumata uttered a low cry as he recognized her, collected himself, however, in a moment, and said:  “What do you want with me, Mandane?”