"And n.o.body who is not, of course," said the young man.

"Oh yes, you did," answered Cyrus, "you hit that officer over there who is riding so swiftly paste the chariot-lines."

[30] "And how is it," asked the other, "that he does not even turn his head?"

"Half-witted, probably," said Cyrus.

Whereat the young man rode off to see who it was, and found Pheraulas, with his chin and beard all begrimed and b.l.o.o.d.y, gore trickling from his nostrils were the clod had struck him. [31] The Sakian cried out to know if he was. .h.i.t.

"As you see," answered Pheraulas.

"Then," said the other, "let me give you my horse."

"But why?" asked Pheraulas.

And so the Sakian had to tell him all about the matter, adding, "And after all, you see, I did not miss a gallant fellow."

[32] "Ah," said Pheraulas, "if you had been wise, you would have chosen a richer one; but I take your gift with all my thanks. And I pray the G.o.ds," he added, "who let me be your target, to help me now and see that you may never regret your gift. For the present, mount my horse yourself and ride back; I will be with you shortly."

So they exchanged steeds and parted.

The winner of the Cadousian race was Rathines.

[33] Then followed chariot-races, tribe by tribe as before: and to all the winners Cyrus gave goblets of price, and oxen, that they might have the wherewithal for sacrifice and feasting. He himself took an ox for his own meed, but he gave all the goblets to Pheraulas to show his approval of the arrangements for the march. [34] And the manner of that procession, then first established by Cyrus, continues to this day, the same in all things, save that the victims are absent when there is no sacrifice. And when it was over, the soldiers went back to the city, and took up their quarters for the night, some in houses and some with their regiments.

[35] Now Pheraulas had invited the Sakian who had given him the horse, and he entertained him with the best he had, and set before him a full board, and after they had dined he filled the goblets Cyrus had given him, and drank to his guest, and offered them all to him. [36] And the Sakian looked round on the rich and costly rugs, and the beautiful furniture, and the train of servants, and cried:

"Tell me, Pheraulas, do you belong to wealthy folk at home?"

[37] "Wealthy folk indeed!" cried Pheraulas, "men who live by their hands, you mean. My father, I can tell you, had work enough to rear me and get me a boy's schooling; he had to toil hard and live sparely, and when I grew to be a lad he could not afford to keep me idle, he took me to a farm in the country and set me there to work it. [38] Then it was my turn, and I supported him while he lived, digging with my own hands and sowing the seed in a ridiculous little plot of ground, and yet it was not a bad bit of soil either, but as good and as honest earth as ever you saw: whatever seed it got from me, it paid me back again, and so prettily and carefully and duly, princ.i.p.al and interest both; not that the interest was very much, I won't say it was, though once or twice, out of pure generosity, that land gave me twice was much as I put into it. That's how I used to live at home, in the old days: to-day it's different, and all that you see here I owe to Cyrus."

[39] Then the Sakian cried:

"O lucky fellow! Lucky in everything, and most of all in coming to wealth from beggary! I know your riches must taste the sweeter, because you hungered for them first and now are full."

[40] But Pheraulas answered:

"Do you really think, my friend, that my joy in life has grown with the growth of my wealth? Do you not know," he went on, "that I neither eat nor drink nor sleep with any more zest than I did when I was poor? What I get by all these goods is simply this: I have more to watch over, more to distribute, and more trouble in looking after more. [41] I have a host of servants now, one set asking me for food, another for drink, another for clothing, and some must have the doctor, and then a herdsman comes, carrying the carcase of some poor sheep mangled by the wolves, or perhaps with an ox that has fallen down a precipice, or maybe he has to tell me that a murrain has broken out among my flocks. It seems to me,"

Pheraulas ended, "that I suffer more to-day through having much than ever I did before through having nothing."

[42] "But--Heaven help us!" cried the Sakian, "surely, when it is all safe, to see so much of your own must make you much happier than me?"

"I a.s.sure you, my friend," said Pheraulas, "the possession of riches is nothing like so sweet as the loss of them is painful. And here is a proof for you: no rich man lies awake from pure joy at his wealth, but did you ever know a man who could close his eyes when he was losing?"

[43] "No," said the Sakian, "nor yet one who could drop asleep when he was winning."

[44] "True enough," answered the other, "and if having were as sweet as getting, the rich would be a thousand times more happy than the poor.

And remember, stranger," he added, "a man who has much must spend much on the G.o.ds and his friends and his guests, and if he takes intense delight in his riches, spending will cause him intense annoyance."

[45] "Upon my word," said the Sakian, "for myself, I am not that sort of man at all: to have much and to spend much is just my idea of perfect happiness."

[46] "Heavens!" cried Pheraulas, "what a chance for us both! You can win perfect happiness now, this instant, and make me happy too! Here, take all these things for your own, make what use of them you please; and as for me, you can keep me as your guest, only much more cheaply if you like: it will be quite enough for me to share whatever you have yourself."

"You are jesting," said the Sakian.

[47] But Pheraulas swore with all solemnity that he spoke in earnest.

"Yes, my friend," he added, "and there are other matters that I can arrange for you with Cyrus: freedom from military service or attendance at the gates. All you will have to do will be to stay at home and grow rich: I will do the rest on your behalf and mine. And if I win any treasure through my service at court or on the field, I will bring it home to you, and you will be lord of more; only," he added, "you must free me from the responsibility of looking after it, for if you give me leisure from these cares I believe you will be of great use to Cyrus and myself."

[48] So the talk ended and they struck a bargain on these terms, and kept it. And the Sakian thought he had found happiness because he was the master of much wealth, and the other felt he was in bliss because he had got a steward who would leave him leisure to do what he liked best. [49] For the character of Pheraulas was amiable: he was a loving comrade, and no service seemed so sweet to him or so helpful as the service of man. Man, he believed, was the n.o.blest of the animals and the most grateful: praise, Pheraulas saw, will reap counter-praise, kindness will stir kindness in return, and goodwill goodwill; those whom men know to love them they cannot hate, and, in a way no other animals will, they cherish their parents in life and in death and requite their care. All other creatures, in short, compared with man, are lacking in grat.i.tude and heart.

[50] Thus Pheraulas was overjoyed to feel that he could now be quit of anxiety for his wealth, and devote himself to his friends, while the Sakian was delighted with all that he had and all that he could use. The Sakian loved Pheraulas because he was for ever adding something to the store, and Pheraulas loved the Sakian because he was willing to a.s.sume the entire burden, and however much the cares increased he never broke into the other's leisure. Thus those two lived their lives.

[C.4] Now Cyrus offered sacrifice and held high festival for his victories, and he summoned to the feast those of his friends who bore him most affection and had shown most desire to exalt him. With them were bidden Artabazus the Mede, and Tigranes the Armenian, and the commander of the Hyrcanian cavalry, and Gobryas. [2] Gadatas was the chief of the mace-bearers, and the whole household was arranged as he advised. When there were guests at dinner, Gadatas would not sit down, but saw to everything, and when they were alone he sat at meat with Cyrus, who took delight in his company, and in return for all his services he was greatly honoured by Cyrus and that led to more honours for others. [3] As the guests entered, Gadatas would show each man to his seat, and the places were chosen with care: the friend whom Cyrus honoured most was placed on his left hand (for that was the side most open to attack), the second on his right, the third next to the left-hand guest, and the fourth next to the right, and so on, whatever the number of guests might be. [4] Cyrus thought it well it should be known how much each man was honoured, for he saw that where the world believes merit will win no crown and receive no proclamation, there the spirit of emulation dies, but if all see that the best man gains most, then the rivalry grows keen. [5] Thus it was that Cyrus marked out the men he favoured by the seat of honour and the order of precedence. Nor did he a.s.sign the honourable place to one friend for all time; he made it a law that by good deeds a man might rise into a higher seat or through sloth descend into a lower; and he would have felt ashamed if it were not known that the guest most honoured at his table received most favours at his hands. These customs that arose in the reign of Cyrus continue to our time, as we can testify.

[6] While they were at the feast that day it struck Gobryas that though there was nothing surprising in the abundance and variety at the table of one who was lord over so vast an empire, yet it was strange that Cyrus, who had done such mighty deeds, should never keep any dainty for himself, but must always be at pains to share it with the company. More than once also he saw Cyrus send off to an absent friend some dish that had chanced to please him. [7] So that by the time they had finished their meal all the viands had been given away by Cyrus, and the board was bare.

Then Gobryas said, "Truly, Cyrus, until to-day I used to think it was in generalship that you outshone other men the most, but, by heaven! I say now it is not in generalship at all, it is generosity."

[8] "Maybe," said Cyrus, "at least I take far more pride in this work than in the other."

"How can that be?" asked Gobryas.

"Because," said he, "the one does good to man and the other injury."

[9] Presently as the wine went round and round, Hystaspas turned to Cyrus and said:

"Would you be angry, Cyrus, if I asked something I long to know?"

"On the contrary," answered Cyrus, "I should be vexed if I saw you silent when you longed to ask."

"Tell me then," said the other, "have you ever called me and found I refused to come?"

"What a question!" said Cyrus, "of course not."

"Well, have I ever been slow in coming?"

"No, never."

"Or failed to do anything you ordered?"

"No," said Cyrus, "I have no fault to find at all."

"Whatever I had to do, I always did it eagerly and with all my heart, did I not?"

"Most a.s.suredly," answered Cyrus.

[10] "Then why, Cyrus, why, in heaven's name, have you singled out Chrysantas for a more honourable seat than me?"