Ask not to hear the accents of thy child;
Far better were his silence for thy peace,
And sad will be the day when that shall cease.
During the storm of the city a Persian, meeting Crœsus, was, through ignorance of his person, about to kill him. The king overwhelmed by his calamity, took no care to avoid the blow or escape death; but his dumb son, when he saw the violent designs of the Persian, overcome with astonishment and terror, exclaimed aloud, “Oh, man, do not kill Crœsus!” This was the first time he had ever articulated, but he retained the faculty of speech from this event, as long as he lived.
The Persians thus obtained possession of Sardis, and made Crœsus captive, when he had reigned fourteen years and after a siege of fourteen days; a mighty empire, agreeably to the prediction which had deluded him, being then destroyed. The Persians brought him to the presence of Cyrus, who ordered him to be placed in chains upon the summit of an huge wooden pile, with fourteen Lydian youths around him. He did this, either desirous of offering to some deity the first-fruits of his victory, in compliance with a vow which he had made; or, perhaps, anxious to know whether any deity would liberate Crœsus, of whose piety he had heard much, from the danger of being consumed by fire. When Crœsus stood erect upon the pile, although in this extremity of misery, he did not forget the saying of Solon, which now appeared of divine inspiration, that no living mortal could be accounted happy. When the remembrance of this saying occurred to Crœsus, it is said, that rousing himself from the profoundest silence of affliction, he thrice pronounced aloud the name of Solon. Cyrus, hearing this, desired by his interpreters to know who it was that he invoked. They approached and asked him, but he continued silent. At length, being compelled to explain himself, he said, “I named a man with whom I had rather that all kings should converse, than be master of the greatest riches.” Not being sufficiently understood, he was solicited to be more explicit; to their repeated and importunate inquiries, he replied to this effect: That Solon, an Athenian, had formerly visited him, a man who, when he had seen all his immense riches, treated them with disdain; whose sayings were at that moment verified in his fate—sayings which he had applied not to him in particular, but to all mankind, and especially to those who were in their own estimation happy. While Crœsus was thus speaking the pile was lighted, and the flame began to ascend. Cyrus being informed of what had passed, felt compunction for what he had done. His heart reproached him, that being himself a mortal, he had condemned to a cruel death by fire, a man formerly not inferior to himself. He feared the anger of the gods, and reflecting that all human affairs are precarious and uncertain, he commanded the fire to be instantly extinguished, and Crœsus to be saved with his companions. They could not, however, with all their efforts, extinguish the flames.
In this extremity, the Lydians affirm, that Crœsus, informed of the change of the king’s sentiments in his favour by seeing the officious but seemingly useless efforts of the multitude to extinguish the flames, implored the assistance of Apollo, entreating, that if he had ever made him any acceptable offering, he would now interpose and deliver him from the impending danger. When Crœsus, with tears, had thus invoked the god, the sky, which before was serene and tranquil, suddenly became dark and gloomy, a violent storm of rain succeeded, and the fire of the pile was extinguished. This event satisfied Cyrus that Crœsus was both a good man in himself and a favourite of Heaven: causing him to be taken down from the pile, “Crœsus,” said he, addressing him, “what could induce you to invade my territories, and become my enemy rather than my friend?” “O king,” replied Crœsus, “it was the prevalence of your good and of my evil fortune which prompted my attempt. I attacked your dominions, impelled and deluded by the deity of the Greeks. No man can be so infatuated as not to prefer tranquillity to war. In peace, children inter their parents; war violates the order of nature, and causes parents to inter their children. It must have pleased the gods that these things should so happen.”
Cyrus immediately ordered him to be unbound, placed him near his person, and treated him with great respect; indeed, he excited the admiration of all who were present. After an interval of silent meditation, Crœsus observed the Persians engaged in the plunder of the city. “Does it become me, Cyrus,” said he, “to continue silent on this occasion, or to speak the sentiments of my heart?” Cyrus entreated him to speak without apprehension or reserve. “About what,” he returned, “is that multitude so eagerly employed?”—“They are plundering your city,” replied Cyrus, “and possessing themselves of your wealth.”—“No,” answered Crœsus, “they do not plunder my city, nor possess themselves of my wealth; I have no concern with either; it is your property which they are thus destroying.”
These words disturbed Cyrus; desiring, therefore, those who were present to withdraw, he asked Crœsus what measures he would recommend in the present emergence. “The gods,” answered Crœsus, “have made me your captive, and you are therefore justly entitled to the benefit of my reflections. Nature has made the Persians haughty but poor. If you permit them to indulge without restraint this spirit of devastation, by which they may become rich, it is probable that your acquiescence may thus foster a spirit of rebellion against yourself. I would recommend the following mode to be adopted, if agreeable to your wisdom: station some of your guards at each of the gates; let it be their business to stop the plunderers with their booty, and bid them assign, as a reason, that one-tenth part must be consecrated to Jupiter. Thus you will not incur their enmity by any seeming violence of conduct; they will even accede without reluctance to your views, under the impression of your being actuated by pious motives.”
Cyrus was delighted with the advice, and immediately adopted it; he stationed guards in the manner recommended by Crœsus, whom he afterwards thus addressed: “Crœsus, your conduct and your words mark a princely character. I desire you, therefore, to request of me whatever you please, and your wish shall be instantly gratified.”—“Sir,” replied Crœsus, “you will materially oblige me by permitting me to send these fetters to the god of Greece, whom, above all other gods, I have most honoured; and to inquire of him, whether it be his custom to delude those who have claims upon his kindness.” When Cyrus expressed a wish to know the occasion of this reproach, Crœsus ingenuously explained each particular of his conduct, the oracles he had received, and the gifts he had presented, declaring that these inspired communications had alone induced him to make war upon the Persians. He finished his narrative with again soliciting permission to send and reproach the divinity which had deceived him. Cyrus smiled: “I will not only grant this,” said he, “but whatever else you shall require.” Crœsus accordingly despatched some Lydians to Delphi, who were commissioned to place his fetters on the threshold of the temple, and to ask if the deity were not ashamed at having, by his oracles, induced Crœsus to make war on Persia, with the expectation of overturning the empire of Cyrus, of which war these chains were the first-fruits: and they were farther to inquire if the gods of Greece were usually ungrateful.
The Lydians proceeded on their journey, and executed their commission; they are said to have received the following reply from the Pythian priestess: “That to avoid the determination of destiny was impossible even for a divinity; that Crœsus, in his person, expiated the crimes of his ancestor in the fifth descent; who, being a guardsman of the Heraclidæ, was seduced by the artifice of a woman to assassinate his master, and without the remotest pretensions succeeded to his dignities; that Apollo was desirous to have this destruction of Sardis fall on the descendants of Crœsus, but was unable to counteract the decrees of fate; that he had really obviated them as far as was possible, and, to show his partiality to Crœsus, had caused the ruin of Sardis to be deferred for the space of three years; that of this Crœsus might be assured that if the will of the fates had been punctually fulfilled, he would have been three years sooner a captive: neither ought he to forget that when in danger of being consumed by fire Apollo had afforded him his succour; that with respect to the declaration of the oracle, Crœsus was not justified in his complaints; for Apollo had declared that if he made war against the Persians a mighty empire would be overthrown; the real purport of which communication, if he had been anxious to understand, it became him to have inquired whether the god alluded to his empire, or to the empire of Cyrus; but that, not understanding the reply which had been made, nor condescending to make a second inquiry, he had been himself the cause of his own misfortune: that he had not at all comprehended the last answer of the oracle, which related to the mule; for that this mule was Cyrus, who was born of two parents of two different nations, of whom the mother was as noble as the father was mean; his mother was a Mede, daughter of Astyages, king of the Medes; his father was a Persian, and tributary to the Medes, who, although a man of the very meanest rank, had married a princess, who was his mistress.” This answer of the Pythian, the Lydians, on their return, communicated to Crœsus. Crœsus, having heard it, exculpated the deity, and acknowledged himself to be reprehensible. Such, however was the termination of the empire of Crœsus, and this the recital of the first conquest of Ionia.[e]