A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly.  “This old man is here to prove the imposture.”  Onuphis gave a sign of assent.

“Prexaspes, my first question is to you.  When Nitetis was entrusted to your care, was it expressly said that she was the daughter of Amasis?”

“Expressly.  Nebenchari had, it is true, praised Tachot to the noble Kassandane as the most beautiful of the twin sisters; but Amasis insisted on sending Nitetis to Persia.  I imagined that, by confiding his most precious jewel to your care, he meant to put you under a special obligation; and as it seemed to me that Nitetis surpassed her sister, not only in beauty but in dignity of character, I ceased to sue for the hand of Tachot.  In his letter to you too, as you will remember, he spoke of confiding to you his most beautiful, his dearest child.”

“Those were his words.”

“And Nitetis was, without question, the more beautiful and the nobler of the two sisters,” said Croesus in confirmation of the envoy’s remark.  “But it certainly did strike me that Tachot was her royal parents’ favorite.”

“Yes,” said Darius, “without doubt.  Once, at a revel, Amasis joked Bartja in these words:  ’Don’t look too deep into Tachot’s eyes, for if you were a god, I could not allow you to take her to Persia!’ Psamtik was evidently annoyed at this remark and said to the king, ‘Father, remember Phanes.’”

“Phanes!”

“Yes, my Sovereign,” answered the Athenian.  “Once, when he was intoxicated, Amasis let out his secret to me, and Psamtik was warning him not to forget himself a second time.”

“Tell the story as it occurred.”

“On my return from Cyprus to Sais as a conqueror, a great entertainment was given at court.  Amasis distinguished me in every way, as having won a rich province for him, and even, to the dismay of his own countrymen, embraced me.  His affection increased with his intoxication, and at last, as Psamtik and I were leading him to his private apartments, he stopped at the door of his daughter’s room, and said:  ’The girls sleep there.  If you will put away your own wife, Athenian, I will give you Nitetis.  I should like to have you for a son-in-law.  There’s a secret about that girl, Phanes; she’s not my own child.’  Before his drunken father could say more, Psamtik laid his hand before his mouth, and sent me roughly away to my lodging, where I thought the matter over and conjectured what I now, from reliable sources, know to be the truth.  I entreat you, command this old man to translate those parts of the physician Sonnophre’s journal, which allude to this story.”