“Kill your only son?”

“You have said it.”

“And your other child?”

“The girl is still in their hands.”

“They will do her an injury when they hear . . .”

“Let her die.  Better go to one’s grave childless, than unrevenged.”

“I understand.  I cannot blame you any longer.  The boy’s blood must be revenged.”

And so saying, the old man pressed the Athenian’s right hand.  The latter dried his tears, mastered his emotion, and cried:  “Let us go to the council of war now.  No one can be so thankful for Psamtik’s infamous deeds as Cambyses.  That man with his hasty passions was never made to be a prince of peace.”

“And yet it seems to me the highest duty of a king is to work for the inner welfare of his kingdom.  But human beings are strange creatures; they praise their butchers more than their benefactors.  How many poems have been written on Achilles! but did any one ever dream of writing songs on the wise government of Pittakus?”

“More courage is required to shed blood, than to plant trees.”

“But much more kindness and wisdom to heal wounds, than to make them.—­I have still one question which I should very much like to ask you, before we go into the hall.  Will Bartja be able to stay at Naukratis when Amasis is aware of the king’s intentions?”

“Certainly not.  I have prepared him for this, and advised his assuming a disguise and a false name.”

“Did he agree?”

“He seemed willing to follow my advice.”

“But at all events it would be well to send a messenger to put him on his guard.”

“We will ask the king’s permission.”

“Now we must go.  I see the wagons containing the viands of the royal household just driving away from the kitchen.”

“How many people are maintained from the king’s table daily?”

“About fifteen thousand.”

“Then the Persians may thank the gods, that their king only takes one meal a day.”

   [This immense royal household is said to have cost 400 talents, that
   is (L90,000.) daily.  Athenaus, Deipn. p. 607.]

CHAPTER IX.

Six weeks after these events a little troop of horsemen might have been seen riding towards the gates of Sardis.  The horses and their riders were covered with sweat and dust.  The former knew that they were drawing near a town, where there would be stables and mangers, and exerted all their remaining powers; but yet their pace did not seem nearly fast enough to satisfy the impatience of two men, dressed in Persian costume, who rode at the head of the troop.