Before he entered, the chamberlains fastened the usual cloth before his mouth, and commanded him to cast himself on the ground before the king. The Greek's bearing, as he approached, under the king's penetrating glance, was calm and noble; he fell on his face, and, according to the Persian custom, kissed the ground.
His agreeable and handsome appearance, and the calm and modest manner in which he bore the king's gaze, seemed to make a favorable impression on the latter; he did not allow him to remain long on the earth, and asked him in a by no means unfriendly tone: "Who are you?"
"I am a Greek nobleman. My name is Phanes, and Athens is my home. I have served ten years as commander of the Greek mercenaries in Egypt, and not ingloriously."
"Are you the man, to whose clever generalship the Egyptians were indebted for their victories in Cyprus?"
"I am."
"What has brought you to Persia?"
"The glory of your name, Cambyses, and the wish to devote my arms and experience to your service."
"Nothing else? Be sincere, and remember that one single lie may cost your life. We Persians have different ideas of truth from the Greeks."
"Lying is hateful to me too, if only, because, as a distortion and corruption of what is noblest, it seems unsightly in my eyes."
"Then speak."