A burst of laughter arose at these words, but Rhodopis said:  “This letter gives me pleasure; it proves that Philoinus is not bad at heart.  Brought up a Sybarite.” . . .  She was suddenly interrupted by the voice of a stranger, who had entered unperceived, and, after apologizing to the venerable hostess and her guests for appearing without invitation among them, continued thus:  “I am Gyges the son of Croesus; and it has not been merely for pastime, that I have ridden over from Sais in two hours lest I should arrive too late!”

“Menon, a cushion for our guest!” cried Rhodopis.  “Be welcome to my house and take some repose after your wild, thoroughly Lydian, ride.”

“By the dog, Gyges!” exclaimed Croesus.

   [An oath of Rhadamanthus used in order to avoid mentioning the names
   of the gods.  Schol.  Aristoph.  Aves. 520.]

“What brings thee here at this hour?  I begged thee not to quit Bartja’s side. . . .  But how thou look’st! what is the matter? has aught happened? speak, speak!”

In the first moment Gyges could not answer a word.  To see his beloved father, for whose very life he had been in such anxiety, a safe and happy guest at this rich banquet, seemed to rob him of his speech a second time.  At last, however, he was able to say:  “The gods be praised, my father, that I see thee safe once more!  Think not I forsook my post thoughtlessly.  Alas!  I am forced to appear as a bird of evil omen in this cheerful assembly.  Know at once, ye guests, for I dare not lose time in preparing my words, that a treacherous assault awaits ye!”

They all sprang up as if struck by lightning.  Aristomachus silently loosened his sword in its scabbard; Phanes extended his arms as if to discern whether the old athletic elasticity still dwelt there.

“What can it be?—­what is their design?” echoed from all sides.

“This house is surrounded by Ethiopian soldiers!” answered Gyges.  “A faithful fellow confided to me that the crown-prince had designs on one of your number; he was to be taken alive if possible, but killed if he resisted.  Dreading lest thou shouldst be this victim, my father, I sped hither.  The fellow had not lied.  This house is surrounded.  My horse shied on reaching your garden-gate, Rhodopis, jaded as he was.  I dismounted, and could discern behind every bush the glitter of weapons and the eager eyes of men lying in ambush.  They allowed us, however, to enter unmolested.”

At this moment Knakias rushed in crying, “Important news!  On my way to the Nile to fetch water with which to prepare the wine-cup, I have just met a man who, in his haste, nearly ran over me.