“Rise, Jehovah, or Ahura,—whatever be thy name,—rise; thou art mocked!” Again the pause and stillness, then the shout of the king: “Rise, rise! thou who art boasted all-powerful. I defy thee, I laugh thee to scorn.” The great cup was nearing his lips. “For the third and last pledge, men of Babylon—to Bel-Marduk, whose power waxeth forever; who shall be praised a thousand ages after the Persians’ and Hebrews’ god is forgotten! To Bel-Marduk, lord of lords, and god of gods, drink!”
But as every man lifted his own wine-cup, and the shout of the pledge was on his tongue, there was suddenly a silence. The goblet fell from the royal fingers. They saw terror flash across the king’s face as he looked upward; and each beheld something moving against the plastered wall....
“They saw terror flash across the king’s face as he looked upward.”
CHAPTER XXV
Since first dusk the army of Cyrus had been in motion: the horse-archers of Tartary, the Hindoo infantry, the Persian lancers. The army marched in silence, no kettle-drums thundering, no war-horns blaring, the commands sent softly down the long line, from officer to officer. When the last bars of light had flickered out in the west, there had come a halt; bread and wine were passed among the men, the horses were watered in a canal: and Orasmasdes, chief of the Magians, shook incense into the portable altar carried beside the king, and offered prayer. Softly yet clearly rose the song in praise of Mithra, the great minister of Ahura-Mazda:—
“His chariot is borne onward by Holiness.
The law of Ahura shall open the way for him;