CYROPAEDIA THE EDUCATION OF CYRUS
by XENOPHON
Translated By Henry Graham Dakyns
Revised By F. M. Stawell
DEDICATION
To Clifton College
PREPARER'S NOTE
This was typed from an Everyman's Library
edition. It seems that Dakyns died before
Cyropaedia could be included as the planned
fourth and final volume of his series, "The
Works of Xenophon," published in the
1890s by Macmillan and Co. The works in that
series can all be found in Project Gutenberg
under their individual titles. The complete
list of Xenophon's works (though there is
doubt about some of these) is:
Work Number of books
The Anabasis 7 The Hellenica 7 The Cyropaedia
8 The Memorabilia 4 The Symposium 1 The Economist
1 On Horsemanship 1 The Sportsman 1 The Cavalry
General 1 The Apology 1 On Revenues 1 The
Hiero 1 The Agesilaus 1 The Polity of the
Athenians and the Lacedaemonians 2
Text in brackets "{}" is my transliteration
of Greek text into English using an Oxford
English Dictionary alphabet table. The diacritical
marks have been lost.
INTRODUCTION
A very few words may suffice by way of introduction
to this translation of the /Cyropaedia/.
Professor Jowett, whose Plato represents
the high-water mark of classical translation,
has given us the following reminders: "An
English translation ought to be idiomatic
and interesting, not only to the scholar,
but also to the unlearned reader. It should
read as an original work, and should also
be the most faithful transcript which can
be made of the language from which the translation
is taken, consistently with the first requirement
of all, that it be English. The excellence
of a translation will consist, not merely
in the faithful rendering of words, or in
the composition of a sentence only, or yet
of a single paragraph, but in the colour
and style of the whole work."
These tests may be safely applied to the
work of Mr. Dakyns. An accomplished Greek
scholar, for many years a careful and sympathetic
student of Xenophon, and possessing a rare
mastery of English idiom, he was unusually
well equipped for the work of a translator.
And his version will, as I venture to think,
be found to satisfy those requirements of
an effective translation which Professor
Jowett laid down. It is faithful to the tone
and spirit of the original, and it has the
literary quality of a good piece of original
English writing. For these and other reasons
it should prove attractive and interesting
reading for the average Englishman.
Xenophon, it must be admitted, is not, like
Plato, Thucydides, or Demosthenes, one of
the greatest of Greek writers, but there
are several considerations which should commend
him to the general reader. He is more representative
of the type of man whom the ordinary Englishman
specially admires and respects, than any
other of the Greek authors usually read.
An Athenian of good social position, endowed
with a gift of eloquence and of literary
style, a pupil of Socrates, a distinguished
soldier, an historian, an essayist, a sportsman,
and a lover of the country, he represents
a type of country gentleman greatly honoured
in English life, and this should ensure a
favourable reception for one of his chief
works admirably rendered into idiomatic English.
And the substance of the /Cyropaedia/, which
is in fact a political romance, describing
the education of the ideal ruler, trained
to rule as a benevolent despot over his admiring
and willing subjects, should add a further
element of enjoyment for the reader of this
famous book in its English garb.
J. HEREFORD.
EDITOR'S NOTE
In preparing this work for the press, I came
upon some notes made by Mr. Dakyns on the
margin of his Xenophon. These were evidently
for his own private use, and are full of
scholarly colloquialisms, impromptu words
humorously invented for the need of the moment,
and individual turns of phrase, such as the
references to himself under his initials
in small letters, "hgd." Though
plainly not intended for publication, the
notes are so vivid and illuminating as they
stand that I have shrunk from putting them
into a more formal dress, believing that
here, as in the best letters, the personal
element is bound up with what is most fresh
and living in the comment, most characteristic
of the writer, and most delightful both to
those who knew him and to those who will
wish they had. I have, therefore, only altered
a word here and there, and added a note or
two of my own (always in square brackets),
where it seemed necessary for the sake of
clearness.
F. M. S.
CYROPAEDIA
THE EDUCATION OF CYRUS
BOOK I
[C. 1] We have had occasion before now to
reflect how often democracies have been overthrown
by the desire for some other type of government,
how often monarchies and oligarchies have
been swept away by movements of the people,
how often would-be despots have fallen in
their turn, some at the outset by one stroke,
while whose who have maintained their rule
for ever so brief a season are looked upon
with wonder as marvels of sagacity and success.
The same lesson, we had little doubt, was
to be learnt from the family: the household
might be great or small--even the master
of few could hardly count on the obedience
of his little flock. [2] And so, one idea
leading to another, we came to shape our
reflexions thus: Drovers may certainly be
called the rulers of their cattle and horse-
breeders the rulers of their studs--all herdsmen,
in short, may reasonably be considered the
governors of the animals they guard. If,
then, we were to believe the evidence of
our senses, was it not obvious that flocks
and herds were more ready to obey their keepers
than men their rulers? Watch the cattle wending
their way wherever their herdsmen guide them,
see them grazing in the pastures where they
are sent and abstaining from forbidden grounds,
the fruit of their own bodies they yield
to their master to use as he thinks best;
nor have we ever seen one flock among them
all combining against their guardian, either
to disobey him or to refuse him the absolute
control of their produce. On the contrary,
they are more apt to show hostility against
other animals than against the owner who
derives advantage from them. But with man
the rule is converse; men unite against none
so readily as against those whom they see
attempting to rule over them. [3] As long,
therefore, as we followed these reflexions,
we could not but conclude that man is by
nature fitted to govern all creatures, except
his fellow-man. But when we came to realise
the character of Cyrus the Persian, we were
led to a change of mind: here is a man, we
said, who won for himself obedience from
thousands of his fellows, from cities and
tribes innumerable: we must ask ourselves
whether the government of men is after all
an impossible or even a difficult task, provided
one set about it in the right way. Cyrus,
we know, found the readiest obedience in
his subjects, though some of them dwelt at
a distance which it would take days and months
to traverse, and among them were men who
had never set eyes on him, and for the matter
of that could never hope to do so, and yet
they were willing to obey him. [4] Cyrus
did indeed eclipse all other monarchs, before
or since, and I include not only those who
have inherited their power, but those who
have won empire by their own exertions. How
far he surpassed them all may be felt if
we remember that no Scythian, although the
Scythians are reckoned by their myriads,
has ever succeeded in dominating a foreign
nation; indeed the Scythian would be well
content could he but keep his government
unbroken over his own tribe and people. The
same is true of the Thracians and the Illyrians,
and indeed of all other nations within our
ken; in Europe, at any rate, their condition
is even now one of independence, and of such
separation as would seem to be permanent.
Now this was the state in which Cyrus found
the tribes and peoples of Asia when, at the
head of a small Persian force, he started
on his career. The Medes and the Hyrcanians
accepted his leadership willingly, but it
was through conquest that he won Syria, Assyria,
Arabia, Cappadocia, the two Phrygias, Lydia,
Caria, Phoenicia, and Babylonia. Then he
established his rule over the Bactrians,
Indians, and Cilicians, over the Sakians,
Paphlagonians, and Magadidians, over a host
of other tribes the very names of which defy
the memory of the chronicler; and last of
all he brought the Hellenes in Asia beneath
his sway, and by a descent on the seaboard
Cyprus and Egypt also.
[5] It is obvious that among this congeries
of nations few, if any, could have spoken
the same language as himself, or understood
one another, but none the less Cyrus was
able so to penetrate that vast extent of
country by the sheer terror of his personality
that the inhabitants were prostrate before
him: not one of them dared lift hand against
him. And yet he was able, at the same time,
to inspire them all with so deep a desire
to please him and win his favour that all
they asked was to be guided by his judgment
and his alone. Thus he knit to himself a
complex of nationalities so vast that it
would have taxed a man's endurance merely
to traverse his empire in any one direction,
east or west or south or north, from the
palace which was its centre. For ourselves,
considering his title to our admiration proved,
we set ourselves to inquire what his parentage
might have been and his natural parts, and
how he was trained and brought up to attain
so high a pitch of excellence in the government
of men. And all we could learn from others
about him or felt we might infer for ourselves
we will here endeavour to set forth.
[C. 2] The father of Cyrus, so runs the story,
was Cambyses, a king of the Persians, and
one of the Perseidae, who look to Perseus
as the founder of their race. His mother,
it is agreed, was Mandane, the daughter of
Astyages, king of the Medes. Of Cyrus himself,
even now in the songs and stories of the
East the record lives that nature made him
most fair to look upon, and set in his heart
the threefold love of man, of knowledge,
and of honour. He would endure all labours,
he would undergo all dangers, for the sake
of glory. [2] Blest by nature with such gifts
of soul and body, his memory lives to this
day in the mindful heart of ages. It is true
that he was brought up according to the laws
and customs of the Persians, and of these
laws it must be noted that while they aim,
as laws elsewhere, at the common weal, their
guiding principle is far other than that
which most nations follow. Most states permit
their citizens to bring up their own children
at their own discretion, and allow the grown
men to regulate their own lives at their
own will, and then they lay down certain
prohibitions, for example, not to pick and
steal, not to break into another man's house,
not to strike a man unjustly, not to commit
adultery, not to disobey the magistrate,
and so forth; and on the transgressor they
impose a penalty. [3] But the Persian laws
try, as it were, to steal a march on time,
to make their citizens from the beginning
incapable of setting their hearts on any
wickedness or shameful conduct whatsoever.
And this is how they set about their object.
In their cities they have an open place or
square dedicated to Freedom
(Free Square they call it), where stand the
palace and other public buildings. From this
place all goods for sale are rigidly excluded,
and all hawkers and hucksters with their
yells and cries and vulgarities. They must
go elsewhere, so that their clamour may not
mingle with and mar the grace and orderliness
of the educated classes. [4] This square,
where the public buildings stand, is divided
into four quarters which are assigned as
follows: one for the boys, another for the
youths, a third for the grown men, and the
last for those who are past the age of military
service. The law requires all the citizens
to present themselves at certain times and
seasons in their appointed places. The lads
and the grown men must be there at daybreak;
the elders may, as a rule, choose their own
time, except on certain fixed days, when
they too are expected to present themselves
like the rest. Moreover, the young men are
bound to sleep at night round the public
buildings, with their arms at their side;
only the married men among them are exempt,
and need not be on duty at night unless notice
has been given, though even in their case
frequent absence is thought unseemly. [5]
Over each of these divisions are placed twelve
governors, twelve being the number of the
Persian tribes. The governors of the boys
are chosen from the elders, and those are
appointed who are thought best fitted to
make the best of their lads: the governors
of the youths are selected from the grown
men, and on the same principle; and for the
grown men themselves and their own governors;
the choice falls on those who will, it is
hoped, make them most prompt to carry out
their appointed duties, and fulfil the commands
imposed by the supreme authority. Finally,
the elders themselves have presidents of
their own, chosen to see that they too perform
their duty to the full.
[6] We will now describe the services demanded
from the different classes, and thus it will
appear how the Persians endeavour to improve
their citizens. The boys go to school and
give their time to learning justice and righteousness:
they will tell you they come for that purpose,
and the phrase is as natural with them as
it is for us to speak of lads learning their
letters. The masters spend the chief part
of the day in deciding cases for their pupils:
for in this boy-world, as in the grown-up
world without, occasions of indictment are
never far to seek. There will be charges,
we know, of picking and stealing, of violence,
of fraud, of calumny, and so forth. The case
is heard and the offender, if shown to be
guilty, is punished. [7] Nor does he escape
who is found to have accused one of his fellows
unfairly. And there is one charge the judges
do not hesitate to deal with, a charge which
is the source of much hatred among grown
men, but which they seldom press in the courts,
the charge of ingratitude. The culprit convicted
of refusing to repay a debt of kindness when
it was fully in his power meets with severe
chastisement. They reason that the ungrateful
man is the most likely to forget his duty
to the gods, to his parents, to his fatherland,
and his friends. Shamelessness, they hold,
treads close on the heels of ingratitude,
and thus ingratitude is the ringleader and
chief instigator to every kind of baseness.
[8] Further, the boys are instructed in temperance
and self-restraint, and they find the utmost
help towards the attainment of this virtue
in the self-respecting behaviour of their
elders, shown them day by day. Then they
are taught to obey their rulers, and here
again nothing is of greater value than the
studied obedience to authority manifested
by their elders everywhere. Continence in
meat and drink is another branch of instruction,
and they have no better aid in this than,
first, the example of their elders, who never
withdraw to satisfy their carnal cravings
until those in authority dismiss them, and
next, the rule that the boys must take their
food, not with their mother but with their
master, and not till the governor gives the
sign. They bring from home the staple of
their meal, dry bread with nasturtium for
a relish, and to slake their thirst they
bring a drinking-cup, to dip in the running
stream. In addition, they are taught to shoot
with the bow and to fling the javelin.
The lads follow their studies till the age
of sixteen or seventeen, and then they take
their places as young men.
[9] After that they spend their time as follows.
For ten years they are bound to sleep at
night round the public buildings, as we said
before, and this for two reasons, to guard
the community and to practise self-restraint;
because that season of life, the Persians
conceive, stands most in need of care. During
the day they present themselves before the
governors for service to the state, and,
whenever necessary, they remain in a body
round the public buildings. Moreover, when
the king goes out to hunt, which he will
do several times a month, he takes half the
company with him, and each man must carry
bow and arrows, a sheathed dagger, or "sagaris,"
slung beside the quiver, a light shield,
and two javelins, one to hurl and the other
to use, if need be, at close quarters. [10]
The reason of this public sanction for the
chase is not far to seek; the king leads
just as he does in war, hunting in person
at the head of the field, and making his
men follow, because it is felt that the exercise
itself is the best possible training for
the needs of war. It accustoms a man to early
rising; it hardens him to endure head and
cold; it teaches him to march and to run
at the top of his speed; he must perforce
learn to let fly arrow and javelin the moment
the quarry is across his path; and, above
all, the edge of his spirit must needs be
sharpened by encountering any of the mightier
beasts: he must deal his stroke when the
creature closes, and stand on guard when
it makes its rush: indeed, it would be hard
to find a case in war that has not its parallel
in the chase. [11] But to proceed: the young
men set out with provisions that are ampler,
naturally, than the boys' fare, but otherwise
the same. During the chase itself they would
not think of breaking their fast, but if
a halt is called, to beat up the game, or
for any hunter's reason, then they will make,
as it were, a dinner of their breakfast,
and, hunting again on the morrow till dinner-time,
they will count the two days as one, because
they have only eaten one day's food. This
they do in order that, if the like necessity
should arise in war, they may be found equal
to it. As relish to their bread these young
men have whatever they may kill in the chase,
or failing that, nasturtium like the boys.
And if one should ask how they can enjoy
the meal with nasturtium for their only condiment
and water for their only drink, let him bethink
himself how sweet barley bread and wheaten
can taste to the hungry man and water to
the thirsty. [12] As for the young men who
are left at home, they spend their time in
shooting and hurling the javelin, and practising
all they learnt as boys, in one long trial
of skill. Beside this, public games are open
to them and prizes are offered; and the tribe
which can claim the greatest number of lads
distinguished for skill and courage and faithfulness
is given the meed of praise from all the
citizens, who honour, not only their present
governor, but the teacher who trained them
when they were boys. Moreover, these young
men are also employed by the magistrates
if garrison work needs to be done or if malefactors
are to be tracked or robbers run down, or
indeed on any errand which calls for strength
of limb and fleetness of foot. Such is the
life of the youth. But when the ten years
are accomplished they are classed as grown
men. [13] And from this time forth for five-and-twenty
years they live as follows.
First they present themselves, as in youth,
before the magistrates for service to the
state wherever there is need for strength
and sound sense combined. If an expedition
be on foot the men of this grade march out,
not armed with the bow or the light shield
any longer, but equipped with what are called
the close-combat arms, a breastplate up to
the throat, a buckler on the left arm (just
as the Persian warrior appears in pictures),
and for the right hand a dagger or a sword.
Lastly, it is from this grade that all the
magistrates are appointed except the teachers
for the boys. But when the five-and-twenty
years are over and the men have reached the
age of fifty years or more, then they take
rank as elders, and the title is deserved.
[14] These elders no longer go on military
service beyond the frontier; they stay at
home and decide all cases, public and private
both. Even capital charges are left to their
decision, and it is they who choose all the
magistrates. If a youth or a grown man breaks
the law he is brought into court by the governors
of his tribe, who act as suitors in the case,
aided by any other citizen who pleases. The
cause is heard before the elders and they
pronounce judgment; and the man who is condemned
is disenfranchised for the rest of his days.
[15] And now, to complete the picture of
the whole Persian policy, I will go back
a little. With the help of what has been
said before, the account may now be brief;
the Persians are said to number something
like one hundred and twenty thousand men:
and of these no one is by law debarred from
honour or office. On the contrary, every
Persian is entitled to send his children
to the public schools of righteousness and
justice. As a fact, all who can afford to
bring up their children without working do
send them there: those who cannot must forego
the privilege. A lad who has passed through
a public school has a right to go and take
his place among the youths, but those who
have not gone through the first course may
not join them. In the same way the youths
who have fulfilled the duties of their class
are entitled eventually to rank with the
men, and to share in office and honour: but
they must first spend their full time among
the youths; if not, they go no further. Finally,
those who as grown men have lived without
reproach may take their station at last among
the elders. Thus these elders form a college,
every member of which has passed through
the full circle of noble learning; and this
is that Persian polity and that Persian training
which, in their belief, can win them the
flower of excellence. [16] And even to this
day signs are left bearing witness to that
ancient temperance of theirs and the ancient
discipline that preserved it. To this day
it is still considered shameful for a Persian
to spit in public, or wipe the nose, or show
signs of wind, or be seen going apart for
his natural needs. And they could not keep
to this standard unless they were accustomed
to a temperate diet, and were trained to
exercise and toil, so that the humours of
the body were drawn off in other ways. Hitherto
we have spoken of the Persians as a whole:
we will now go back to our starting-point
and recount the deeds of Cyrus from his childhood.
[C. 3] Until he was twelve years old or more,
Cyrus was brought up in the manner we have
described, and showed himself to be above
all his fellows in his aptitude for learning
and in the noble and manly performance of
every duty. But about this time, Astyages
sent for his daughter and her son, desiring
greatly to see him because he had heard how
noble and fair he was. So it fell out that
Mandane came to Astyages, bringing her son
Cyrus with her. [2] And as soon as they met,
the boy, when he heard that Astyages was
his mother's father, fell on his neck and
kissed him without more ado, like the loving
lad nature had made him, as though he had
been brought up at his grandfather's side
from the first and the two of them had been
playmates of old. Then he looked closer and
saw that the king's eyes were stencilled
and his cheeks painted, and that he wore
false curls after the fashion of the Medes
in those days (for these adornments, and
the purple robes, the tunics, the necklaces,
and the bracelets, they are all Median first
and last, not Persian; the Persian, as you
find him at home even now-a-days, still keeps
to his plainer dress and his plainer style
of living.) The boy, seeing his grandfather's
splendour, kept his eyes fixed on him, and
cried, "Oh, mother, how beautiful my
grandfather is!" Then his mother asked
him which he thought the handsomer, his father
or his grandfather, and he answered at once,
"My father is the handsomest of all
the Persians, but my grandfather much the
handsomest of all the Medes I ever set eyes
on, at home or abroad." [3] At that
Astyages drew the child to his heart, and
gave him a beautiful robe and bracelets and
necklaces in sign of honour, and when he
rode out, the boy must ride beside him on
a horse with a golden bridle, just like King
Astyages himself. And Cyrus, who had a soul
as sensitive to beauty as to honour, was
pleased with the splendid robe, and overjoyed
at learning to ride, for a horse is a rare
sight in Persia, a mountainous country, and
one little suited to the breed.
[4] Now Cyrus and his mother sat at meat
with the king, and Astyages, wishing the
lad to enjoy the feast and not regret his
home, plied him with dainties of every sort.
At that, so says the story, Cyrus burst out,
"Oh, grandfather, what trouble you must
give yourself reaching for all these dishes
and tasting all these wonderful foods!"
"Ah, but," said Astyages, "is
not this a far better meal than you ever
had in Persia?" Thereupon, as the tale
runs, Cyrus answered, "Our way, grandfather,
is much shorter than yours, and much simpler.
We are hungry and wish to be fed, and bread
and meat brings us where we want to be at
once, but you Medes, for all your haste,
take so many turns and wind about so much
it is a wonder if you ever find your way
to the goal that we have reached long ago."
[5] "Well, my lad," said his grandfather,
"we are not at all averse to the length
of the road: taste the dishes for yourself
and see how good they are." "One
thing I do see," the boy said, "and
that is that you do not quite like them yourself."
And when Astyages asked him how he felt so
sure of that, Cyrus answered, "Because
when you touch an honest bit of bread you
never wipe your hands, but if you take one
of these fine kickshaws you turn to your
napkin at once, as if you were angry to find
your fingers soiled." [6] "Well
and good, my lad, well and good," said
the king, "only feast away yourself
and make good cheer, and we shall send you
back to Persia a fine strong fellow."
And with the word he had dishes of meat and
game set before his grandson. The boy was
taken aback by their profusion, and exclaimed,
"Grandfather, do you give me all this
for myself, to do what I like with it?"
"Certainly I do," said the king.
[7] Whereupon, without more ado, the boy
Cyrus took first one dish and then another
and gave them to the attendants who stood
about his grandfather, and with each gift
he made a little speech: "That is for
you, for so kindly teaching me to ride;"
"And that is for you, in return for
the javelin you gave me, I have got it still;"
"And this is for you, because you wait
on my grandfather so prettily;" "And
this for you, sir, because you honour my
mother." And so on until he had got
rid of all the meat he had been given. [8]
"But you do not give a single piece
to Sacas, my butler," quoth the grandfather,
"and I honour him more than all the
rest." Now this Sacas, as one may guess,
was a handsome fellow, and he had the right
to bring before the king all who desired
audience, to keep them back if he thought
the time unseasonable. But Cyrus, in answer
to his grandfather's question retorted eagerly,
like a lad who did not know what fear meant,
"And why should you honour him so much,
grandfather?" Then Astyages laughed
and said, "Can you not see how prettily
he mixes the cup, and with what a grace he
serves the wine?" And indeed, these
royal cup-bearers are neat-handed at their
task, mixing the bowl with infinite elegance,
and pouring the wine into the beakers without
spilling a drop, and when they hand the goblet
they poise it deftly between thumb and finger
for the banqueter to take. [9] "Now,
grandfather," said the boy, "tell
Sacas to give me the bowl, and let me pour
out the wine as prettily as he if I can,
and win your favour." So the king bade
the butler hand him the bowl, and Cyrus took
it and mixed the wine just as he had seen
Sacas do, and then, showing the utmost gravity
and the greatest deftness and grace, he brought
the goblet to his grandfather and offered
it with such an air that his mother and Astyages,
too, laughed outright, and then Cyrus burst
out laughing also, and flung his arms round
his grandfather and kissed him, crying, "Sacas,
your day is done! I shall oust you from your
office, you may be sure. I shall make just
as pretty a cup-bearer as you--and not drink
the wine myself!" For it is the fact
that the king's butler when he offers the
wine is bound to dip a ladle in the cup first,
and pour a little in the hollow of his hand
and sip it, so that if he has mixed poison
in the bowl it will do him no good himself.
[10] Accordingly, Astyages, to carry on the
jest, asked the little lad why he had forgotten
to taste the wine though he had imitated
Sacas in everything else. And the boy answered,
"Truly, I was afraid there might be
poison in the bowl. For when you gave your
birthday feast to your friends I could see
quite plainly that Sacas had put in poison
for you all." "And how did you
discover that, my boy?" asked the king.
"Because I saw how your wits reeled
and how you staggered; and you all began
doing what you will not let us children do--you
talked at the top of your voices, and none
of you understood a single word the others
said, and then you began singing in a way
to make us laugh, and though you would not
listen to the singer you swore that it was
right nobly sung, and then each of you boasted
of his own strength, and yet as soon as you
got up to dance, so far from keeping time
to the measure, you could barely keep your
legs. And you seemed quite to have forgotten,
grandfather, that you were king, and your
subjects that you were their sovereign. Then
at last I understood that you must be celebrating
that 'free speech' we hear of; at any rate,
you were never silent for an instant."
[11] "Well, but, boy," said Astyages,
"does your father never lose his head
when he drinks?" "Certainly not,"
said the boy. "What happens then?"
asked the king. "He quenches his thirst,"
answered Cyrus, "and that is all. No
harm follows. You see, he has no Sacas to
mix his wine for him." "But, Cyrus,"
put in his mother, "why are you so unkind
to Sacas?" "Because I do so hate
him," answered the boy. "Time after
time when I have wanted to go to my grandfather
this old villain has stopped me. Do please,
grandfather, let me manage him for three
days." "And how would you set about
it?" Astyages asked. "Why,"
said the boy, "I will plant myself in
the doorway just as he does, and then when
he wants to go in to breakfast I will say
'You cannot have breakfast yet: HE is busy
with some people,' and when he comes for
dinner I will say 'No dinner yet: HE is in
his bath,' and as he grows ravenous I will
say 'Wait a little: HE is with the ladies
of the court,' until I have plagued and tormented
him as he torments me, keeping me away from
you, grandfather, when I want to come."
[12] Thus the boy delighted his elders in
the evening, and by day if he saw that his
grandfather or his uncle wanted anything,
no one could forestall him in getting it;
indeed nothing seemed to give him greater
pleasure than to please them.
[13] Now when Mandane began to think of going
back to her husband, Astyages begged her
to leave the boy behind. She answered that
though she wished to please her father in
everything, it would be hard to leave the
boy against his will. [14] Then the old man
turned to Cyrus: "My boy, if you will
stay with us, Sacas shall never stop you
from coming to me: you shall be free to come
whenever you choose, and the oftener you
come the better it will please me. You shall
have horses to ride, my own and as many others
as you like, and when you leave us you shall
take them with you. And at dinner you shall
go your own away and follow your own path
to your own goal of temperance just as you
think right. And I will make you a present
of all the game in my parks and paradises,
and collect more for you, and as soon as
you have learnt to ride you shall hunt and
shoot and hurl the javelin exactly like a
man. And you shall have boys to play with
and anything else you wish for: you have
only to ask me and it shall be yours."
[15] Then his mother questioned the boy and
asked him whether he would rather stay with
his grandfather in Media, or go back home
with her: and he said at once that he would
rather stay. And when she went on to ask
him the reason, he answered, so the story
says, "Because at home I am thought
to be the best of the lads at shooting and
hurling the javelin, and so I think I am:
but here I know I am the worst at riding,
and that you may be sure, mother, annoys
me exceedingly. Now if you leave me here
and I learn to ride, when I am back in Persia
you shall see, I promise you, that I will
outdo all our gallant fellows on foot, and
when I come to Media again I will try and
show my grandfather that, for all his splendid
cavalry, he will not have a stouter horseman
than his grandson to fight his battles for
him." [16] Then said his mother, "But
justice and righteousness, my son, how can
you learn them here when your teachers are
at home?" "Oh," said Cyrus,
"I know all about them already."
"How do you know that you do?"
asked Mandane. "Because," answered
the boy, "before I left home my master
thought I had learnt enough to decide the
cases, and he set me to try the suits. Yes!
and I remember once, said he, "I got
a whipping for misjudgment. [17] I will tell
you about that case. There were two boys,
a big boy and a little boy, and the big boy's
coat was small and the small boy's coat was
huge. So the big boy stripped the little
boy and gave him his own small coat, while
he put on the big one himself. Now in giving
judgment I decided that it was better for
both parties that each should have the coat
that fitted him best. But I never got any
further in my sentence, because the master
thrashed me here, and said that the verdict
would have been excellent if I had been appointed
to say what fitted and what did not, but
I had been called in to decide to whom the
coat belonged, and the point to consider
was, who had a right to it: Was he who took
a thing by violence to keep it, or he who
had had it made and bought it for his own?
And the master taught me that what is lawful
is just and what is in the teeth of law is
based on violence, and therefore, he said,
the judge must always see that his verdict
tallies with the law. So you see, mother,
I have the whole of justice at my fingers'
ends already. And if there should be anything
more I need to know, why, I have my grandfather
beside me, and he will always give me lessons."
[18] "But," rejoined his mother,
"what everyone takes to be just and
righteous at your grandfather's court is
not thought to be so in Persia. For instance,
your own grandfather has made himself master
over all and sundry among the Medes, but
with the Persians equality is held to be
an essential part of justice: and first and
foremost, your father himself must perform
his appointed services to the state and receive
his appointed dues: and the measure of these
is not his own caprice but the law. Have
a care then, or you may be scourged to death
when you come home to Persia, if you learn
in your grandfather's school to love not
kingship but tyranny, and hold the tyrant's
belief that he and he alone should have more
than all the rest." "Ah, but, mother,"
said the boy, "my grandfather is better
at teaching people to have less than their
share, not more. Cannot you see," he
cried, "how he has taught all the Medes
to have less than himself? So set your mind
at rest, mother, my grandfather will never
make me, or any one else, an adept in the
art of getting too much."
[C. 4] So the boy's tongue ran on. But at
last his mother went home, and Cyrus stayed
behind and was brought up in Media. He soon
made friends with his companions and found
his way to their hearts, and soon won their
parents by the charm of his address and the
true affection he bore their sons, so much
so that when they wanted a favour from the
king they bade their children ask Cyrus to
arrange the matter for them. And whatever
it might be, the kindliness of the lad's
heart and the eagerness of his ambition made
him set the greatest store on getting it
done. [2] On his side, Astyages could not
bring himself to refuse his grandson's lightest
wish. For once, when he was sick, nothing
would induce the boy to leave his side; he
could not keep back his tears, and his terror
at the thought that his grandfather might
die was plain for every one to see. If the
old man needed anything during the night
Cyrus was the first to notice it, it was
he who sprang up first to wait upon him,
and bring him what he thought would please
him. Thus the old king's heart was his.
[3] During these early days, it must be allowed,
the boy was something too much of a talker,
in part, may be, because of his bringing-up.
He had been trained by his master, whenever
he sat in judgment, to give a reason for
what he did, and to look for the like reason
from others. And moreover, his curiosity
and thirst for knowledge were such that he
must needs inquire from every one he met
the explanation of this, that, and the other;
and his own wits were so lively that he was
ever ready with an answer himself for any
question put to him, so that talkativeness
had become, as it were, his second nature.
But, just as in the body when a boy is overgrown,
some touch of youthfulness is sure to show
itself and tell the secret of his age, so
for all the lad's loquacity, the impression
left on the listener was not of arrogance,
but of simplicity and warm-heartedness, and
one would gladly have heard his chatter to
the end rather than have sat beside him and
found him dumb.
[4] However, as he grew in stature and the
years led him to the time when childhood
passes into youth he became more chary of
his words and quieter in his tone: at times,
indeed, he was so shy that he would blush
in the presence of his elders, and there
was little sign left of the old forwardness,
the impulsiveness of the puppy who will jump
up on every one, master and stranger alike.
Thus he grew more sedate, but his company
was still most fascinating, and little wonder:
for whenever it came to a trial of skill
between himself and his comrades he would
never challenge his mates to those feats
in which he himself excelled: he would start
precisely one where he felt his own inferiority,
averring that he would outdo them all,--indeed,
he would spring to horse in order to shoot
or hurl the javelin before he had got a firm
seat--and then, when he was worsted, he would
be the first to laugh at his own discomfiture.
[5] He had no desire to escape defeat by
giving up the effort, but took glory in the
resolution to do better another time, and
thus he soon found himself as good a horseman
as his peers, and presently, such was his
ardour, he surpassed them all, and at last
the thinning of the game in the king's preserves
began to show what he could do. What with
the chasing and the shooting and the spearing,
the stock of animals ran so low that Astyages
was hard put to it to collect enough for
him. Then Cyrus, seeing that his grandfather
for all his goodwill could never furnish
him with enough, came to him one day and
said, "Grandfather, why should you take
so much trouble in finding game for me? If
only you would let me go out to hunt with
my uncle, I could fancy every beast we came
across had been reared for my particular
delight!" [6] But however anxious the
lad might be to go out to the chase, he had
somehow lost the old childish art of winning
what he wanted by coaxing: and he hesitated
a long time before approaching the king again.
If in the old days he had quarrelled with
Sacas for not letting him in, now he began
to play the part of Sacas against himself,
and could not summon courage to intrude until
he thought the right moment had come: indeed,
he implored the real Sacas to let him know
when he might venture. So that the old butler's
heart was won, and he, like the rest of the
world, was completely in love with the young
prince.
[7] At last when Astyages saw that the lad's
heart was really set on hunting in the open
country, he gave him leave to go out with
his uncle, taking care at the same time to
send an escort of mounted veterans at his
heels, whose business it was to keep watch
and ward over him in any dangerous place
or against any savage beast. Cyrus plied
his retinue with questions about the creatures
they came across, which must he avoid and
which might he hunt? They told him he must
be on his guard against bears and wild-boars
and lions and leopards: many a man had found
himself at too close quarters with these
dangerous creatures, and been torn to pieces:
but antelopes, they said, and deer and mountain
sheep and wild asses were harmless enough.
And the huntsman, they added, ought to be
as careful about dangerous places as about
the beasts themselves: many a time horse
and rider had gone headlong down a precipice
to death. [8] The lad seemed to take all
their lessons to heart at the time: but then
he saw a stag leap up, and forgot all the
wise cautions he had heard, giving chase
forthwith, noticing nothing except the beast
ahead of him. His horse, in its furious plunge
forward, slipped, and came down on its knees,
all but throwing the rider over its head.
As luck would have it the boy managed to
keep his seat, and the horse recovered its
footing. When they reached the flat bottom,
Cyrus let fly his javelin, and the stag fell
dead, a beautiful big creature. The lad was
still radiant with delight when up rode the
guard and took him severely to task. Could
he not see the danger he had run? They would
certainly tell his grandfather, that they
would. Cyrus, who had dismounted, stood quite
still and listened ruefully, hanging his
head while they rated him. But in the middle
of it all he heard the view-halloo again:
he sprang to his horse as though frenzied--a
wild-boar was charging down on them, and
he charged to meet it, and drawing his bow
with the surest aim possible, struck the
beast in the forehead, and laid him low.
[9] But now his uncle thought it was high
time to scold his nephew himself; the lad's
boldness was too much. Only, the more he
scolded the more Cyrus begged he would let
him take back the spoil as a present for
his grandfather. To which appeal, says the
story, his uncle made reply: "But if
your grandfather finds out that you have
gone in chase yourself, he will not only
scold you for going but me for letting you
go." "Well, let him whip me if
he likes," said the boy, "when
once I have given him my beasts: and you
too, uncle," he went on, "punish
me however you choose, only do not refuse
me this." So Cyaxares was forced to
yield:--"Have it your own way then,
you are little less than our king already."
[10] Thus it was that Cyrus was allowed to
bring his trophies home, and in due course
presented them to his grandfather. "See,
grandfather, here are some animals I have
shot for you." But he did not show his
weapons in triumph: he only laid them down
with the gore still on them where he hoped
his grandfather would see them. It is easy
to guess the answer Astyages gave:--"I
must needs accept with pleasure every gift
you bring me, only I want none of them at
the risk of your own life." And Cyrus
said, "If you really do not want them
yourself, grandfather, will you give them
to me? And I will divide them among the lads."
"With all my heart," said the old
man, "take them, or anything else you
like; bestow them where you will, and welcome."
[11] So Cyrus carried off the spoil, and
divided it with his comrades, saying all
the while, "What foolery it was, when
we used to hunt in the park! It was no better
than hunting creatures tied by a string.
First of all, it was such a little bit of
a place, and then what scarecrows the poor
beasts were, one halt, and another maimed!
But those real animals on the mountains and
the plains--what splendid beasts, so gigantic,
so sleek and glossy! Why, the stags leapt
up against the sky as though they had wings,
and the wild-boars came rushing to close
quarters like warriors in battle! And thanks
to their breadth and bulk one could not help
hitting them. Why, even as they lie dead
there," cried he, "they look finer
than those poor walled-up creatures when
alive! But you," he added, "could
not your fathers let you go out to hunt too?"
"Gladly enough," answered they,
"if only the king gave the order."
[12] "Well," said Cyrus, "who
will speak to Astyages for us?" "Why,"
answered they, "who so fit to persuade
him as yourself?" "No, by all that's
holy, not I!" cried Cyrus. "I cannot
think what has come over me: I cannot speak
to my grandfather any more; I cannot look
him straight in the face. If this fit grows
on me, I am afraid I shall become no better
than an idiot. And yet, when I was a little
boy, they tell me, I was sharp enough at
talking." To which the other lads retorted,
"Well, it is a bad business altogether:
and if you cannot bestir yourself for your
friends, if you can do nothing for us in
our need, we must turn elsewhere." [13]
When Cyrus heard that he was stung to the
quick: he went away in silence and urged
himself to put on a bold face, and so went
in to his grandfather, not, however, without
planning first how he could best bring in
the matter. Accordingly he began thus: "Tell
me, grandfather," said he, "if
one of your slaves were to run away, and
you caught him, what would you do to him?"
"What else should I do," the old
man answered, "but clap irons on him
and set him to work in chains?" "But
if he came back of his own accord, how would
you treat him then?" "Why, I would
give him a whipping, as a warning not to
do it again, and then treat him as though
nothing had happened." "It is high
time then," said the boy, "that
you began getting a birch ready for your
grandson: for I am planning to take my comrades
and run away on a hunting expedition."
"Very kind of you to tell me, beforehand,"
said Astyages. "And now listen, I forbid
you to set foot outside the palace grounds.
A pretty thing," he added, "if
for the sake of a day's hunting I should
let my daughter's lamb get lost." [14]
So Cyrus did as he was ordered and stayed
at home, but he spent his days in silence
and his brow was clouded. At last Astyages
saw how bitterly the lad felt it, and he
made up his mind to please him by leading
out a hunting-party himself. He held a great
muster of horse and foot, and the other lads
were not forgotten: he had the beasts driven
down into the flat country where the horses
could be taken easily, and then the hunt
began in splendid style. After the royal
fashion--for he was present in person himself--he
gave orders that no one was to shoot until
Cyrus had hunted to his heart's content.
But Cyrus would not hear of any such hindrance
to the others: "Grandfather," he
cried, "if you wish me to enjoy myself,
let my friends hunt with me and each of us
try our best." [15] Thereupon Astyages
let them all go, while he stood still and
watched the sight, and saw how they raced
to attack the quarry and how their ambition
burned within them as they followed up the
chase and let fly their javelins. But above
all he was overjoyed to see how his grandson
could not keep silence for sheer delight,
calling upon his fellows by name whenever
he came up with the quarry, like a noble
young hound, baying from pure excitement.
It gladdened the old man's heart to hear
how gleefully the boy would laugh at one
of his comrades and how eagerly he would
applaud another without the slightest touch
of jealousy. At length it was time to turn,
and home they went, laden with their mighty
trophies. And ever afterwards, so well pleased
was the king with the day's hunting, that
whenever it was possible, out he must go
with his grandson, all his train behind him,
and he never failed to take the boys also,
"to please Cyrus." Thus did Cyrus
spend his early life, sharing in and helping
towards the happiness of all, and bringing
no sorrow to any man.
[16] But when he was about fifteen years
of age, it chanced that the young Prince
of Assyria, who was about to marry a wife,
planned a hunting-party of his own, in honour
of the bridal. And, having heard that on
the frontiers of Assyria and Media there
was much game to be got, untouched and unmolested
because of the war, the prince chose these
marches for his hunting-ground. But for safety
sake he took with him a large escort of cavalry
and targeteers, who were to drive the beasts
down from their lairs into the cultivated
levels below where it was easy to ride. He
set out to the place where the Assyrian outposts
were planted and a garrison on duty, and
there he and his men prepared to take their
supper, intending to begin the hunt with
the morrow's dawn. [17] And as evening had
fallen, it happened that the night- watch,
a considerable body of horse and foot, arrived
from the city to relieve the garrison on
guard. Thus the prince found that he had
something like a large army at his call:
the two garrisons as well as the troop of
horse and foot for the hunt. And then he
asked himself whether it would not be the
best of plans to drive off booty from the
country of the Medes? In this way more lustre
would be given to the chase, and there would
be great store of beasts for sacrifice. With
this intent he rose betimes and led his army
out: the foot soldiers he massed together
on the frontier, while he himself, at the
head of his cavalry, rode up to the border
fortresses of the Medes. Here he halted with
the strongest and largest part of his company,
to prevent the garrisons from sallying out,
and meanwhile he sent picked men forward
by detachments with orders to raid the country
in every direction, waylay everything they
chanced upon, and drive the spoil back to
him.
[18] While this was going on news was brought
to Astyages that the enemy was across the
border, and he hastened to the rescue at
once, himself at the head of his own body-guard,
and his son with such troopers as were ready
to hand, leaving word for others to follow
with all despatch. But when they were in
sight of the Assyrians, and saw their serried
ranks, horse and foot, drawn up in order,
compact and motionless, they came to a halt
themselves. [19] Now Cyrus, seeing that all
the rest of the world was off to the rescue,
boot and saddle, must needs ride out too,
and so put on his armour for the first time,
and could scarcely believe it was true, he
had longed so often and so ardently to wear
it all. And right beautiful it was, and right
well it fitted the lad, the armour that his
grandsire had had made for him. So he put
on the whole accoutrement, mounted his charger,
and galloped to the front. And Astyages,
though he wondered who had sent the boy,
bade him stay beside him, now that he had
come. Cyrus, as he looked at the horsemen
facing them, turned to his grandfather with
the question, "Can those men yonder
be our enemies, grandfather, those who are
standing so quietly beside their horses?"
"Enemies they are too for all that,"
said the king. "And are those enemies
too?" the boy asked, "those who
are riding over there?" "Yes, to
be sure." "Well, grandfather, a
sorry set they look, and sorry jades they
ride to ravage our lands! It would be well
for some of us to charge them!" "Not
yet, my boy," answered his grandfather,
"look at the mass of horsemen there.
If we were to charge the others now, these
friends of theirs would charge us, for our
full strength is not yet on the field."
"Yes, but," suggested the boy,
"if you stay here yourself, ready to
receive our supporters, those fellows will
be afraid to stir either, and the cattle-lifters
will drop their booty quick enough, as soon
as they find they are attacked."
[20] Astyages felt there was much in what
the boy said, and thinking all the while
what wonderful sense he showed and how wide-awake
he was, gave orders for his son to take a
squadron of horse and charge the raiders.
"If the main body move to attack,"
he added, "I will charge myself and
give them enough to do here." Accordingly
Cyaxares took a detachment of horse and galloped
to the field. Cyrus seeing the charge, darted
forward himself, and swept to the van, leading
it with Cyaxares close at his heels and the
rest close behind them. As soon as the plunderers
saw them, they left their booty and took
to flight. [21] The troopers, with Cyrus
at their head, dashed in to cut them off,
and some they overtook at once and hewed
down then and there; others slipped past,
and then they followed in hot pursuit, and
caught some of them too. And Cyrus was ever
in the front, like a young hound, untrained
as yet but bred from a gallant stock, charging
a wild-boar recklessly; forward he swept,
without eyes or thought for anything but
the quarry to be captured and the blow to
be struck. But when the Assyrian army saw
their friends in trouble they pushed forward,
rank on rank, saying to themselves the pursuit
would stop when their own movement was seen.
[22] But Cyrus never slackened his pace a
whit: in a transport of joy he called on
his uncle by name as he pressed forward,
hanging hot-foot on the fugitives, while
Cyaxares still clung to his heels, thinking
maybe what his father Astyages would say
if he hung back, and the others still followed
close behind them, even the faint-hearted
changed into heroes for the nonce.
Now Astyages, watching their furious onslaught,
and seeing the enemy move steadily forward
in close array to meet them, decided to advance
without a moment's delay himself, for fear
that his son and Cyrus might come to harm,
crashing in disorder against the solid battalions
of the foe. [23] The Assyrians saw the movement
of the king and came to a halt, spears levelled
and bows bent, expecting that, when their
assailants came within range, they would
halt likewise as they had usually done before.
For hitherto, whenever the armies met, they
would only charge up to a certain distance,
and there take flying shots, and so keep
up the skirmish until evening fell. But now
the Assyrians saw their own men borne down
on them in rout, with Cyrus and his comrades
at their heels in full career, while Astyages
and his cavalry were already within bowshot.
It was more than they could face, and they
turned and fled. After them swept the Medes
in full pursuit, and those they caught they
mowed down, horse and man, and those that
fell they slew. There was no pause until
they came up with the Assyrian foot. [24]
Here at last they drew rein in fear of some
hidden ambuscade, and Astyages led his army
off. The exploit of his cavalry pleased him
beyond measure, but he did not know what
he could say to Cyrus. It was he to whom
the engagement was due, and the victory;
but the boy's daring was on the verge of
madness. Even during the return home his
behaviour was strange; he could not forbear
riding round alone to look into the faces
of the slain, and those whose duty it was
could hardly drag him away to lead him to
Astyages: indeed, the youth was glad enough
to keep them as a screen between himself
and the king, for he saw that the countenance
of his grandfather grew stern at the sight
of him.
[25] So matters passed in Media: and more
and more the name of Cyrus was on the lip
of every man, in song and story everywhere,
and Astyages, who had always loved him, was
astonished beyond all measure at the lad.
Meanwhile his father, Cambyses, rejoiced
to hear such tidings of his son; but, when
he heard that he was already acting like
a man of years, he thought it full time to
call him home again that he might complete
his training in the discipline of his fatherland.
The story tells how Cyrus answered the summons,
saying he would rather return home at once
so that his father might not be vexed or
his country blame him. And Astyages, too,
thought it his plain duty to send the boy
back, but he must needs give him horses to
take with him, as many as he would care to
choose, and other gifts beside, not only
for the love he bore him but for the high
hopes he had that the boy would one day prove
a man of mark, a blessing to his friends,
and a terror to his foes. And when the time
came for Cyrus to go, the whole world poured
out to speed him on his journey--little children
and lads of his own age, and grown men and
greybeards on their steeds, and Astyages
the king. And, so says the chronicle, the
eyes of none were dry when they turned home
again. [26] Cyrus himself, they tell us,
rode away in tears. He heaped gifts on all
his comrades, sharing with them what Astyages
had given to himself; and at last he took
off the splendid Median cloak he wore and
gave it to one of them, to tell him, plainer
than words could say, how his heart clung
to him above the rest. And his friends, they
say, took the gifts he gave them, but they
brought them all back to Astyages, who sent
them to Cyrus again. But once more Cyrus
sent them back to Media with this prayer
to his grandfather:--"If you would have
me hold my head up when I come back to you
again, let my friends keep the gifts I gave
them." And Astyages did as the boy asked.
[27] And here, if a tale of boyish love is
not out of place, we might tell how, when
Cyrus was just about to depart and the last
good-byes were being said, each of his kinsmen
in the Persian fashion--and to this day the
custom holds in Persia--kissed him on the
lips as they bade him god-speed. Now there
was a certain Mede, as beautiful and brave
a man as ever lived, who had been enamoured
of Cyrus for many a long day, and, when he
saw the kiss, he stayed behind, and after
the others had withdrawn he went up to Cyrus
and said, "Me, and me alone, of all
your kindred, Cyrus, you refuse to recognize?"
And Cyrus answered, "What, are you my
kinsman too?" "Yes, assuredly,"
the other answered, and the lad rejoined,
"Ah, then, that is why you looked at
me so earnestly; and I have seen you look
at me like that, I think, more than once
before." "Yes," answered the
Mede, "I have often longed to approach
you, but as often, heaven knows, my heart
failed me." "But why should that
be," said Cyrus, "seeing you are
my kinsman?" And with the word, he leant
forward and kissed him on the lips. [28]
Then the Mede, emboldened by the kiss, took
heart and said, "So in Persia it is
really the custom for relatives to kiss?"
"Truly yes," answered Cyrus, "when
we see each other after a long absence, or
when we part for a journey." "Then
the time has come," said the other,
"to give me a second kiss, for I must
leave you now." With that Cyrus kissed
him again and so they parted. But the travellers
were not far on their way when suddenly the
Mede came galloping after them, his charger
covered with foam. Cyrus caught sight of
him:--"You have forgotten something?
There is something else you wanted to say?"
"No," said the Mede, "it is
only such a long, long while since we met."
"Such a little, little while you mean,
my kinsman," answered Cyrus. "A
little while!" repeated the other. "How
can you say that? Cannot you understand that
the time it takes to wink is a whole eternity
if it severs me from the beauty of your face?"
Then Cyrus burst out laughing in spite of
his own tears, and bade the unfortunate man
take heart of grace and be gone. "I
shall soon be back with you again, and then
you can stare at me to your heart's content,
and never wink at all."
[C. 5] Thus Cyrus left his grandfather's
court and came home to Persia, and there,
so it is said, he spent one year more as
a boy among boys. At first the lads were
disposed to laugh at him, thinking he must
have learnt luxurious ways in Media, but
when they saw that he could take the simple
Persian food as happily as themselves, and
how, whenever they made good cheer at a festival,
far from asking for any more himself he was
ready to give his own share of the dainties
away, when they saw and felt in this and
in other things his inborn nobleness and
superiority to themselves, then the tide
turned and once more they were at his feet.
And when this part of his training was over,
and the time was come for him to join the
younger men, it was the same tale once more.
Once more he outdid all his fellows, alike
in the fulfilment of his duty, in the endurance
of hardship, in the reverence he showed to
age, and the obedience he paid to authority.
[2] Now in the fullness of time Astyages
died in Media, and Cyaxares his son, the
brother of Cyrus' mother, took the kingdom
in his stead. By this time the king of Assyria
had subdued all the tribes of Syria, subjugated
the king of Arabia, brought the Hyrcanians
under his rule, and was holding the Bactrians
in siege. Therefore he came to think that,
if he could but weaken the power of the Medes,
it would be easy for him to extend his empire
over all the nations round him, since the
Medes were, without doubt, the strongest
of them all. [3] Accordingly he sent his
messengers to every part of his dominions:
to Croesus, king of Lydia, to the king of
Cappadocia, to both the Phrygias, to the
Paphlagonians and the Indians, to the Carians
and the Cilicians. And he bade them spread
slanders abroad against the Persians and
the Medes, and say moreover that these were
great and mighty kingdoms which had come
together and made alliance by marriage with
one another, and unless a man should be beforehand
with them and bring down their power it could
not be but that they would fall on each of
their neighbours in turn and subdue them
one by one. So the nations listened to the
messengers and made alliance with the king
of Assyria: some were persuaded by what he
said and others were won over by gifts and
gold, for the riches of the Assyrian were
great. [4] Now Cyaxares, the son of Astyages,
was aware of these plots and preparations,
and he made ready on his side, so far as
in him lay, sending word to the Persian state
and to Cambyses the king, who had his sister
to wife. And he sent to Cyrus also, begging
him to come with all speed at the head of
any force that might be furnished, if so
be the Council of Persia would give him men-at-arms.
For by this time Cyrus had accomplished his
ten years among the youths and was now enrolled
with the grown men. [5] He was right willing
to go, and the Council of Elders appointed
him to command the force for Media. They
bade him choose two hundred men among the
Peers, each of them to choose four others
from their fellows. Thus was formed a body
of a thousand Peers: and each of the thousand
had orders to raise thirty men from the commons--ten
targeteers, ten slingers, and ten archers--and
thus three regiments were levied, 10,000
archers, 10,000 slingers, and 10,000 targeteers,
over and above the thousand Peers. The whole
force was to be put under the command of
Cyrus. [6] As soon as he was appointed, his
first act had been to offer sacrifice, and
when the omens were favourable he had chosen
his two hundred Peers, and each of them had
chosen their four comrades. Then he called
the whole body together, and for the first
time spoke to them as follows:--
[7] "My friends, I have chosen you for
this work, but this is not the first time
that I have formed my opinion of your worth:
from my boyhood I have watched your zeal
for all that our country holds to be honourable
and your abhorrence for all that she counts
base. And I wish to tell you plainly why
I accepted this office myself and why I ask
your help. [8] I have long felt sure that
our forefathers were in their time as good
men as we. For their lives were one long
effort towards the self-same deeds of valour
as are held in honour now; and still, for
all their worth, I fail to see what good
they gained either for the state or for themselves.
[9] Yet I cannot bring myself to believe
that there is a single virtue practised among
mankind merely in order that the brave and
good should fare no better than the base
ones of the earth. Men do not forego the
pleasures of the moment to say good-bye to
all joy for evermore--no, this self-control
is a training, so that we may reap the fruits
of a larger joy in the time to come. A man
will toil day and night to make himself an
orator, yet oratory is not the one aim of
his existence: his hope is to influence men
by his eloquence and thus achieve some noble
end. So too with us, and those like us, who
are drilled in the arts of war: we do not
give our labours in order to fight for ever,
endlessly and hopelessly, we hope that we
too one day, when we have proved our mettle,
may win and wear for ourselves and for our
city the threefold ornament of wealth, of
happiness, of honour. [10] And if there should
be some who have worked hard all their lives
and suddenly old-age, they find, has stolen
on them unawares, and taken away their powers
before they have gathered in the fruit of
all their toil, such men seem to me like
those who desire to be thrifty husbandmen,
and who sow well and plant wisely, but when
the time of harvest comes let the fruit drop
back ungarnered into the soil whence it sprang.
Or as if an athlete should train himself
and reach the heights where victory may be
won and at the last forbear to enter the
lists--such an one, I take it, would but
meet his deserts if all men cried out upon
him for a fool. [11] Let not such be our
fate, my friends. Our own hearts bear us
witness that we, too, from our boyhood up,
have been trained in the school of beauty
and nobleness and honour, and now let us
go forward to meet our foes. They, I know
right well, when matched with us, will prove
but novices in war. He is no true warrior,
though he be skilled with the javelin and
the bow and ride on horseback with the best,
who, when the call for endurance comes, is
found to fail: toil finds him but a novice.
Nor are they warriors who, when they should
wake and watch, give way to slumber: sleep
finds them novices. Even endurance will not
avail, if a man has not learnt to deal as
a man should by friends and foes: such an
one is unschooled in the highest part of
his calling. [12] But with you it is not
so: to you the night will be as the day;
toil, your school has taught you, is the
guide to happiness; hunger has been your
daily condiment, and water you take to quench
your thirst as the lion laps the stream.
And you have that within your hearts which
is the rarest of all treasures and the most
akin to war: of all sweet sounds the sweetest
sound for you is the voice of fame. You are
fair Honour's suitors, and you must needs
win your title to her favour. Therefore you
undergo toil and danger gladly.
[13] "Now if I said all this of you,
and my heart were not in my words, I should
but cheat myself. For in so far as you should
fail to fulfil my hopes of you, it is on
me that the shame would fall. But I have
faith in you, bred of experience: I trust
in your goodwill towards me, and in our enemy's
lack of wit; you will not belie my hopes.
Let us go forth with a light heart; we have
no ill-fame to fear: none can say we covet
another man's goods unlawfully. Our enemy
strikes the first blow in an unrighteous
cause, and our friends call us to protect
them. What is more lawful than self-defence?
What is nobler than to succour those we love?
[14] And you have another ground of confidence--in
opening this campaign I have not been forgetful
of the gods: you have gone in and out with
me, and you know how in all things, great
and small, I strive to win their blessing.
And now," he added, "what need
of further words? I will leave you now to
choose your own men, and when all is ready
you will march into Media at their head.
Meanwhile I will return to my father and
start before you, so that I may learn what
I can about the enemy as soon as may be,
and thus make all needful preparations, so
that by God's help we may win glory on the
field."
[C. 6] Such were his orders and they set
about them at once. But Cyrus himself went
home and prayed to the gods of his father's
house, to Hestia and Zeus, and to all who
had watched over his race. And when he had
done so, he set out for the war, and his
father went with him on the road. They were
no sooner clear of the city, so says the
story, than they met with favourable omens
of thunder and lightning, and after that
they went forward without further divination,
for they felt that no man could mistake the
signs from the Ruler of the gods. [2] And
as they went on their way Cyrus' father said
to him, "My son, the gods are gracious
to us, and look with favour on your journey--they
have shown it in the sacrifices, and by their
signs from heaven. You do not need another
man to tell you so, for I was careful to
have you taught this art, so that you might
understand the counsels of the gods yourself
and have no need of an interpreter, seeing
with your own eyes and hearing with your
own ears and taking the heavenly meaning
for yourself. Thus you need not be at the
mercy of any soothsayers who might have a
mind to deceive you, speaking contrary to
the omens vouchsafed from heaven, nor yet,
should you chance to be without a seer, drift
in perplexity and know not how to profit
by the heavenly signs: you yourself through
your own learning can understand the warnings
of the gods and follow them."
[3] "Yes, father," answered Cyrus,
"so far as in me lies, I bear your words
in mind, and pray to the gods continually
that they may show us favour and vouchsafe
to counsel us. I remember," he went
on, "how once I heard you say that,
as with men, so with the gods, it was but
natural if the prayer of him should prevail
who did not turn to flatter them only in
time of need, but was mindful of them above
all in the heyday of his happiness. It was
thus indeed, you said, that we ought to deal
with our earthly friends." [4] "True,
my son," said his father, "and
because of all my teaching, you can now approach
the gods in prayer with a lighter heart and
a more confident hope that they will grant
you what you ask, because your conscience
bears you witness that you have never forgotten
them." "Even so," said Cyrus,
"and in truth I feel towards them as
though they were my friends." [5] "And
do you remember," asked his father,
"certain other conclusions on which
we were agreed? How we felt there were certain
things that the gods had permitted us to
attain through learning and study and training?
The accomplishment of these is the reward
of effort, not of idleness; in these it is
only when we have done all that it is our
duty to do that we are justified in asking
for blessings from the gods." [6] "I
remember very well," said Cyrus, "that
you used to talk to me in that way: and indeed
I could not but agree with the arguments
you gave. You used to say that a man had
no right to pray he might win a cavalry charge
if he had never learnt how to ride, or triumph
over master- bowmen if he could not draw
a bow, or bring a ship safe home to harbour
if he did not know how to steer, or be rewarded
with a plenteous harvest if he had not so
much as sown grain into the ground, or come
home safe from battle if he took no precautions
whatsoever. All such prayers as these, you
said, were contrary to the very ordinances
of heaven, and those who asked for things
forbidden could not be surprised if they
failed to win them from the gods. Even as
a petition in the face of law on earth would
have no success with men."
[7] "And do you remember," said
his father, "how we thought that it
would be a noble work enough if a man could
train himself really and truly to be beautiful
and brave and earn all he needed for his
household and himself? That, we said, was
a work of which a man might well be proud;
but if he went further still, if he had the
skill and the science to be the guide and
governor of other men, supplying all their
wants and making them all they ought to be,
that, it seemed to us, would be indeed a
marvel." [8] "Yes, my father,"
answered Cyrus, "I remember it very
well. I agreed with you that to rule well
and nobly was the greatest of all works,
and I am of the same mind still," he
went on, "whenever I think of government
in itself. But when I look on the world at
large, when I see of what poor stuff those
men are made who contrive to uphold their
rule and what sort of antagonists we are
likely to find in them, then I can only feel
how disgraceful it would be to cringe before
them and not to face them myself and try
conclusions with them on the field. All of
them, I perceive," he added, "beginning
with our own friends here, hold to it that
the ruler should only differ from his subjects
by the splendour of his banquets, the wealth
of gold in his coffers, the length and depth
of his slumbers, and his freedom from trouble
and pain. But my views are different: I hold
that the ruler should be marked out from
other men, not by taking life easily, but
by his forethought and his wisdom and his
eagerness for work." [9] "True,
my son," the father answered, "but
you know the struggle must in part be waged
not against flesh and blood but against circumstances,
and these may not be overcome so easily.
You know, I take it, that if supplies were
not forthcoming, farewell to this government
of yours." "Yes," Cyrus answered,
"and that is why Cyaxares is undertaking
to provide for all of us who join him, whatever
our numbers are." "So," said
the father, "and you really mean, my
son, that you are relying only on these supplies
of Cyaxares for this campaign of yours?"
"Yes," answered Cyrus. "And
do you know what they amount to?" "No,"
he said, "I cannot say that I do."
"And yet," his father went on,
"you are prepared to rely on what you
do not know? Do you forget that the needs
of the morrow must be high, not to speak
of the outlay for the day?" "Oh,
no," said Cyrus, "I am well aware
of that." "Well," said the
father, "suppose the cost is more than
Cyaxares can bear, or suppose he actually
meant to deceive you, how would your soldiers
fare?" "Ill enough, no doubt,"
answered he. "And now tell me, father,
while we are still in friendly country, if
you know of any resources that I could make
my own?" [10] "You want to know
where you could find resources of your own?"
repeated his father. "And who is to
find that out, if not he who holds the keys
of power? We have given you a force of infantry
that you would not exchange, I feel sure,
for one that was more than twice its size;
and you will have the cavalry of Media to
support you, the finest in the world. I conceive
there are none of the nations round about
who will not be ready to serve you, whether
to win your favour or because they fear disaster.
These are matters you must look into carefully,
in concert with Cyaxares, so that nothing
should ever fail you of what you need, and,
if only for habit's sake, you should devise
some means for supplying your revenue. Bear
this maxim in mind before all others-- never
put off the collecting of supplies until
the day of need, make the season of your
abundance provide against the time of dearth.
You will gain better terms from those on
whom you must depend if you are not thought
to be in straits, and, what is more, you
will be free from blame in the eyes of your
soldiers. That in itself will make you more
respected; wherever you desire to help or
to hurt, your troops will follow you with
greater readiness, so long as they have all
they need, and your words, you may be sure,
will carry the greater weight the fuller
your display of power for weal or woe."
[11] "Yes, father," Cyrus said,
"I feel all you say is true, and the
more because as things now stand none of
my soldiers will thank me for the pay that
is promised them. They are well aware of
the terms Cyaxares has offered for their
help: but whatever they get over and above
the covenanted amount they will look upon
as a free gift, and for that they will, in
all likelihood, feel most gratitude to the
giver." "True," said the father,
"and really for a man to have a force
with which he could serve his friends and
take vengeance on his foes, and yet neglect
the supplies for it, would be as disgraceful,
would it not? as for a farmer to hold lands
and labourers and yet allow fields to lie
barren for lack of tillage."
"No such neglect," answered the
son, "shall ever be laid at my door.
Through friendly lands or hostile, trust
me, in this business of supplying my troops
with all they need I will always play my
part."
[12] "Well, my son," the father
resumed, "and do you remember certain
other points which we agreed must never be
overlooked?" "Could I forget them?"
answered Cyrus. "I remember how I came
to you for money to pay the teacher who professed
to have taught me generalship, and you gave
it me, but you asked me many questions. 'Now,
my boy,' you said, 'did this teacher you
want to pay ever mention economy among the
things a general ought to understand? Soldiers,
no less than servants in a house, are dependent
on supplies.' And I was forced to tell the
truth and admit that not a syllable had been
mentioned on that score. Then you asked me
if anything had been taught about health
and strength, since a true general is bound
to think of these matters no less than of
tactics and strategy. And when I was forced
to say no, you asked me if he had taught
me any of the arts which give the best aid
in war. Once again I had to say no and then
you asked whether he had ever taught me how
to kindle enthusiasm in my men. For in every
undertaking, you said, there was all the
difference in the world between energy and
lack of spirit. I shook my head and your
examination went on:--Had this teacher laid
no stress on the need for obedience in an
army, or on the best means of securing discipline?
[14] And finally, when it was plain that
even this had been utterly ignored, you exclaimed,
'What in the world, then, does your professor
claim to have taught you under the name of
generalship?' To that I could at last give
a positive answer: 'He taught me tactics.'
And then you gave a little laugh and ran
through your list point by point:-- 'And
pray what will be the use of tactics to an
army without supplies, without health, without
discipline, without knowledge of those arts
and inventions that are of use in war?' And
so you made it clear to me that tactics and
manœuvres and drill were only a small part
of all that is implied in generalship, and
when I asked you if you could teach me the
rest of it you bade me betake myself to those
who stood high in repute as great generals,
and talk with them and learn from their lips
how each thing should be done. [15] So I
consorted with all I thought to be of authority
in these matters. As regards our present
supplies I was persuaded that what Cyaxares
intended to provide was sufficient, and,
as for the health of the troops, I was aware
that the cities where health was valued appointed
medical officers, and the generals who cared
for their soldiers took out a medical staff;
and so when I found myself in this office
I gave my mind to the matter at once: and
I flatter myself, father," he added,
"that I shall have with me an excellent
staff of surgeons and physicians." [16]
To which the father made reply, "Well,
my son, but these excellent men are, after
all, much the same as the tailors who patch
torn garments. When folk are ill, your doctors
can patch them up, but your own care for
their health ought to go far deeper than
that: your prime object should be to save
your men from falling ill at all." "And
pray, father," asked Cyrus, "how
can I succeed in that?" "Well,"
answered Cambyses, "I presume if you
are to stay long in one place you will do
your best to discover a healthy spot for
your camp, and if you give your mind to the
matter you can hardly fail to find it. Men,
we know, are forever discussing what places
are healthy and what are not, and their own
complexions and the state of their own bodies
is the clearest evidence. But you will not
content yourself with choosing a site, you
will remember the care you take yourself
for your own health." [17] "Well,"
said Cyrus, "my first rule is to avoid
over-feeding as most oppressive to the system,
and my next to work off all that enters the
body: that seems the best way to keep health
and gain strength." "My son,"
Cambyses answered, "these are the principles
you must apply to others." "What!"
said Cyrus; "do you think it will be
possible for the soldiers to diet and train
themselves?" "Not only possible,"
said the father, "but essential. For
surely an army, if it is to fulfil its function
at all, must always be engaged in hurting
the foe or helping itself. A single man is
hard enough to support in idleness, a household
is harder still, an army hardest of all.
There are more mouths to be filled, less
wealth to start with, and greater waste;
and therefore an army should never be unemployed."
[18] "If I take your meaning,"
answered Cyrus, "you think an idle general
as useless as an idle farmer. And here and
now I answer for the working general, and
promise on his behalf that with God's help
he will show you that his troops have all
they need and their bodies are all they ought
to be. And I think," he added, "I
know a way by which an officer might do much
towards training his men in the various branches
of war. Let him propose competitions of every
kind and offer prizes; the standard of skill
will rise, and he will soon have a body of
troops ready to his hand for any service
he requires." "Nothing could be
better," answered the father. "Do
this, and you may be sure you will watch
your regiments at their manœuvres with as
much delight as if they were a chorus in
the dance."
[19] "And then," continued Cyrus,
"to rouse enthusiasm in the men, there
can be nothing, I take it, like the power
of kindling hope?" "True,"
answered his father, "but that alone
would be as though a huntsman were for ever
rousing his pack with the view-halloo. At
first, of course, the hounds will answer
eagerly enough, but after they have been
cheated once or twice they will end by refusing
the call even when the quarry is really in
sight. And so it is with hope. Let a man
rouse false expectations often enough, and
in the end, even when hope is at the door,
he may cry the good news in vain. Rather
ought he to refrain from speaking positively
himself when he cannot know precisely; his
agents may step in and do it in his place;
but he should reserve his own appeal for
the supreme crises of supreme danger, and
not dissipate his credit."
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Evans Experientialism 
