“Has his mother no influence over him?” asked Rhodopis.  “She is a noble woman.”

“She could not even move his resolution to marry Atossa, and was forced to be present at the marriage feast.”

“Poor Atossa!” murmured Sappho.

“She does not pass a very happy life as Queen of Persia,” answered Croesus; “and her own naturally impetuous disposition makes it all the more difficult or her to live contentedly with this husband and mother; I am sorry to hear it said that Cambyses neglects her sadly, and treats her like a child.  But the marriage does not seem to have astonished the Egyptians, as brothers and sisters often marry here.”

“In Persia too,” said Darius, putting on an appearance of the most perfect composure, “marriages with very near relations are thought to be the best.”

“But to return to the king,” said Croesus, turning the conversation for Darius’ sake.  “I can assure you, Rhodopis, that he may really be called a noble man.  His violent and hasty deeds are repented of almost as soon as committed, and the resolution to be a just and merciful ruler has never forsaken him.  At supper, for instance, lately, before his mind was clouded by the influence of wine, he asked us what the Persians thought of him in comparison with his father.”

“And what was the answer?” said Rhodopis.  “Intaphernes got us out of the trap cleverly enough,” answered Zopyrus, laughing.  “He exclaimed:  ’We are of opinion that you deserve the preference, inasmuch as you have not only preserved intact the inheritance bequeathed you by Cyrus, but have extended his dominion beyond the seas by your conquest of Egypt.’  This answer did not seem to please the king, however, and poor Intaphernes was not a little horrified to hear him strike his fist on the table and cry, ‘Flatterer, miserable flatterer!’ He then turned to Croesus and asked his opinion.  Our wise friend answered at once:  ’My opinion is that you have not attained to the greatness of your father; for,’ added he in a pacifying tone, ’one thing is wanting to you —­a son such as Cyrus bequeathed us in yourself.”

“First-rate, first-rate,” cried Rhodopis clapping her hands and laughing.  “An answer that would have done honor to the ready-witted Odysseus himself.  And how did the king take your honeyed pill?”

“He was very much pleased, thanked Croesus, and called him his friend.”

“And I,” said Croesus taking up the conversation, “used the favorable opportunity to dissuade him from the campaigns he has been planning against the long lived Ethiopians, the Ammonians and the Carthaginians.  Of the first of these three nations we know scarcely anything but through fabulous tales; by attacking them we should lose much and gain little.  The oasis of Ammon is scarcely accessible to a large army, on account of the desert by which it is surrounded; besides which, it seems to me sacrilegious to make war upon a god in the hope of obtaining possession