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Updated: May 6, 2025
A fire glowed in the eyes of the grey-haired woman as she uttered these words; and the Spartan, grasping her hand impetuously and stamping on the floor with his wooden leg, cried: "By Zeus, I will not let a hair of their heads be hurt; but thou, Rhodopis, thou art worthy to have been born a Spartan woman." "Or an Athenian," cried Phanes.
I abide by what I have said." "Then tremble, not alone before Phanes, but before another before one who holds thee in his power, and who himself is in ours." "Thou thinkest to alarm me; thou wouldst rend the bond formed only yesterday? Psamtik, Psamtik, I counsel thee to remember, that thou standest before thy father and thy king." "And thou, forget not that I am thy son!
There's a secret about that girl, Phanes; she's not my own child. Before his drunken father could say more, Psamtik laid his hand before his mouth, and sent me roughly away to my lodging, where I thought the matter over and conjectured what I now, from reliable sources, know to be the truth.
The girl's knees trembled so violently that she could hardly stand, and her fear entirely took away the power of speaking. "I have not much patience," exclaimed Cambyses. Mandane started, grew paler still, but could not speak. Then Phanes came forward and asked the angry king to allow him to examine the girl, as he felt sure that fear alone had closed her lips and that a kind word would open them.
These well-calculated words were received with such shouts of applause, that the king turned his horse to enquire the cause. Phanes answered quickly that the Achaemenidae were rejoicing in the thought that a war might possibly be near at hand. "What war?" asked the king, with the first smile that had been seen on his face for many days.
"This I have brought for you," he said, turning to the delighted Rhodopis, "but for you, friend Phanes, I have something still better. Guess, who won the four-horse chariot-race?"
These well-calculated words were received with such shouts of applause, that the king turned his horse to enquire the cause. Phanes answered quickly that the Achaemenidae were rejoicing in the thought that a war might possibly be near at hand. "What war?" asked the king, with the first smile that had been seen on his face for many days.
At the door of his tent he found his slaves disputing with a ragged, dirty and unshaven old man, who insisted on speaking with their master. Fancying he must be a beggar, Phanes threw him a piece of gold; the old man did not even stoop to pick it up, but, holding the Athenian fast by his cloak, cried, "I am Aristomachus the Spartan!"
"Lydian!" cried Aristomachus, "wert thou ten times more fainthearted than thou art, and were our enemies double their number, I at least, will fight them!" Phanes grasped his friend's hand. Gyges turned pale. This brave warrior had called him fainthearted; and again he could find no words to answer; for at every stirring emotion his tongue failed him.
On the cushions around it lay the guests with whom we are already acquainted: Theodorus, Ibykus, Phanes, Aristomachus, the merchant Theopompus of Miletus, Croesus and others, crowned with chaplets of poplar and roses.
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