He was answered by a joyful shout of “Victory to the king!” They all then left the hall, and Cambyses, summoning his dressers, proceeded for the first time to exchange his mourning garments for the splendid royal robes.

Croesus and Phanes went into the green and pleasant garden lying on the eastern side of the royal palace, which abounded in groves of trees, shrubberies, fountains and flower-beds.  Phanes was radiant with delight; Croesus full of care and thought.

“Have you duly reflected,” said the latter, “on the burning brand that you have just flung out into the world?”

“It is only children and fools that act without reflection,” was the answer.

“You forget those who are deluded by passion.”

“I do not belong to that number.”

“And yet revenge is the most fearful of all the passions.”

“Only when it is practised in the heat of feeling.  My revenge is as cool as this piece of iron; but I know my duty.”

“The highest duty of a good man, is to subordinate his own welfare to that of his country.”

“That I know.”

“You seem to forget, however, that with Egypt you are delivering your own country over to the Persians.”

“I do not agree with you there.”

“Do you believe, that when all the rest of the Mediterranean coasts belong to Persia, she will leave your beautiful Greece untouched?”

“Certainly not, but I know my own countrymen; I believe them fully capable of a victorious resistance to the hosts of the barbarians, and am confident that their courage and greatness will rise with the nearness of the danger.  It will unite our divided tribes into one great nation, and be the ruin of the tyrants.”

“I cannot argue with you, for I am no longer acquainted with the state of things in your native country, and besides, I believe you to be a wise man—­not one who would plunge a nation into ruin merely for the gratification of his own ambition.  It is a fearful thing that entire nations should have to suffer for the guilt of one man, if that man be one who wears a crown.  And now, if my opinion is of any importance to you, tell me what the deed was which has roused your desire of vengeance.”

“Listen then, and never try again to turn me from my purpose.  You know the heir to the Egyptian throne, and you know Rhodopis too.  The former was, for many reasons, my mortal enemy, the latter the friend of every Greek, but mine especially.  When I was obliged to leave Egypt, Psamtik threatened me with his vengeance; your son Gyges saved my life.  A few weeks later my two children came to Naukratis, in order to follow me out to Sigeum.  Rhodopis took them kindly under her protection, but some wretch had discovered the secret and betrayed it to the prince.  The very next night her house was surrounded and searched,—­my children found and taken captive.  Amasis had meanwhile become blind, and allowed his miserable son to do what he liked; the wretch dared to . . .”