Zopyrus paused a moment before replying, then said in a voice low enough to be audible only to his companion:
“Since you have now partaken with me at the same table, I desire to leave with you some memorial of my convictions: the rather in order that you may be yourself forewarned so as to take the best counsel for your own safety. Do you see these Persians here feasting, and did you observe the army which we left yonder encamped near the river? Yet a little while, and out of all these you will behold but a few surviving!”
Thersander replied. “Surely you are bound to reveal this to Mardonius and to his confidential advisers!”
But the Persian rejoined. “My friend, man can not avert that which God has decreed to come. No one will believe the revelation, sure though it be. Many of us Persians know this well, and are here serving only under the bond of necessity. And truly this is the most hateful of all human suffering—to be full of knowledge and at the same time to have no power over any result.”
Zopyrus was himself amazed at his own frank outburst. Many times had he longed thus to express himself, and so he had revealed to Thersander what he dared not to his friend Masistius. The east was kindling into a glorious day as the banqueters took leave of their host, Attaginus.
CHAPTER VIII.
Masistius’ Message to Zopyrus.
“But down on his threshold, down!
Sinks the warrior’s failing breath,
The tale of that mighty field
Is left to be told by Death.”