‘Nay,’ again answered the wise man, ‘but two sons who loved their mother well, and served her with their strength.’
Then the king was angry and he said, ‘Dost thou not count me a happy man?’
‘Call no man happy until he dies,’ replied the wise man, ‘for who knows what pains the gods may yet have in store for him while he lives.’
Croesus was yet to learn the truth of what Solon said. For in days to come Cyrus, King of Persia, seized his city, took him prisoner, and condemned him to be burned to death.
As he was being bound to the pyre, Croesus remembered the words of the Athenian, and he cried aloud three times, ‘O Solon, Solon, Solon.’
The King of Persia had never heard of Solon, and he asked on what strange god his prisoner was calling.
‘On no god,’ answered the miserable man, ‘but on one whom I would that all tyrants might meet and converse with.’ He then told Cyrus how Solon had said no one need count himself happy while he lived, as he could not know what misfortunes the gods had yet in store for him.
Already the pyre had been set alight, but Cyrus, struck by the words he had heard and thinking that he did not know what fate might yet befall himself, ordered Croesus to be set free.
But the flames had blazed up fiercely, and no one could quench the fire. Then Croesus besought Apollo to help him, and lo! the sky which had been clear grew dark, and a heavy downfall of rain soon extinguished the flames.
‘Thus,’ says Plutarch, who tells this story, ‘Solon had the glory by the same saying to save one king and instruct another.’