marched out with all his army; a great multitude of natives and foreigners gathered together. When Crœsus and fourteen Lydians were brought out in chains, all the Lydians broke out into sighs and lamentations, and beat their heads, so that the weeping and wailing of men and women was greater now than it had been at the capture of the city. This showed what affection Crœsus inspired among his subjects. "They tore their garments, and thousands of women ran weeping forward. Crœsus advanced without tears, and with a firm countenance, and when he reached Cyrus he asked with a loud voice that his son might be brought to him. This was done. The son embraced his father, and said with tears: 'Woe is me, my father. Of what avail was your piety; when will the gods help us? Have they granted me speech only to bewail our misfortunes?' Turning to the Persians he said: 'Burn me also; I am no less your enemy than my father.' But Crœsus checked him with these words: 'I alone determined on the war, and no one else of the Lydians; therefore I alone must pay the penalty.' When numerous servants of the Lydian women had brought rich garments and ornaments of every kind to be burned with him, Crœsus kissed his son and the Lydians who were standing by, and ascended the pyre; but the son raised his hands to heaven and cried aloud: 'King Apollo, and all ye gods to whom my father has done honour, come now to our help, that the piety of mankind may not be destroyed with Crœsus.' His friends could hardly restrain him from casting himself on the pyre. But on a sudden Herophile, the sibyl of Ephesus, appeared, and descended from the height, and cried: 'Ye fools, what injustice is this? Supreme Zeus, and Phœbus, and glorious Amphiaraus will not permit it. Obey the truthful sayings of my words, that the god may not visit your frenzy with grievous destruction.' Cyrus caused the oracle to be interpreted to the Persians that they might desist from their purpose, but they set the pile on fire with torches on every side. Then Crœsus called thrice on the name of Solon, and Cyrus wept, that he should be compelled by the Persians to do an unrighteous act, and burn a king who was no less in honour than himself. When the Persians looked on Cyrus and saw his distress, they changed their minds, and the king bade those who were near him put out the fire. But the pile was on fire and no one could quench it. Then Crœsus called on Apollo for help, because his enemies wished to save him and could not. From the morning the day had been cloudy, but without rain, but when Crœsus had prayed, dark clouds rolled up from every side, lightning and thunder followed fast, and the rain poured down in such streams that not only was the pyre quenched but men could hardly withstand the storm. A purple canopy was quickly spread over Crœsus, but the Persians, terrified at the storm, the darkness, and the panic which had come upon the horses owing to the tempest, were seized with fear of the gods. They thought of the saying of the sibyl and the commands of Zoroaster, cast themselves on the earth, and cried for pardon. From this date the rule of Zoroaster, which had existed among the Persians for a long time, not to burn their dead nor pollute fire in any way, was strictly observed. Cyrus led Crœsus into the palace, treated him as a friend, seeing that he was a pious man, and bade him ask without hesitation for any favour that he chose. Crœsus asked that he might send his fetters to Delphi and ask the god, why he had deceived him by his responses and driven him into war, when he had sent him such trophies; the messengers were also to ask whether the gods of the Greeks paid no heed to the gifts which they received. Cyrus granted this request with a smile and said that he would not refuse Crœsus even a greater favour; he made him his friend, and when he left Sardis, restored his wives and children, and took him as a companion. Some say that he would have made him viceroy of Sardis, if he had not been afraid that this would induce the Lydians to revolt."[12]

We have already noticed how deep was the impression made on the Greeks by the greatness and splendour of the Lydian kingdom. Lydia was the power of the East with which they first came into immediate contact, the first Oriental court which they had before their eyes. A king of Lydia had subjugated the great cities of the coast; his wide dominion, power, and wisdom were the admiration of the Greeks; his glory and treasures excited their astonishment; he had shown himself kindly and gracious towards them, and sent the richest gifts to their gods—and this king it was who fell by a sudden overthrow from his splendid position. He succumbed to a foreign and distant nation, whose name up to that time was hardly known to Greece, and his fall brought with it distress and mischief for the Greeks of the west coast of Asia Minor. This sudden fall of Crœsus was a striking event, and most disastrous for the Greeks, the more striking owing to the unexpected and rapid nature of the change. How could so brave, wise, and religious a ruler fall from the summit of fortune into the deepest distress, and come by a mischance which brought disaster not only on himself and his kingdom, but also on the Greek cities? How could this be the result of an undertaking begun on the authority of the god of Delphi? These questions forced themselves on the Greeks of Anatolia, and beyond the sea, and their legends were at pains to solve the problem. In the mind of Herodotus the solution was the punishment which sooner or later overtakes every unrighteous act. Gyges, the ancestor of Crœsus, had robbed the ancient royal family of the Lydians, the race of Sandon, of their throne. It was the vengeance for this crime which overtook Crœsus. It was a widely-spread and favourite story among the Greeks, how Solon of Athens, unmoved by the successes, the prosperity, and splendour of Crœsus, had warned him in his proud citadel at Sardis of the mutability of human things, and preferred to his brilliant position as a sovereign the modest lot of a life well spent in the performance of duty. We have observed (III. 458) that this narrative is not without some basis of fact. Could there be a more impressive illustration of the saying of Solon than the fate which had overtaken Crœsus? The tradition of the Greeks, especially of the Delphian priesthood, was aware of several oracular responses which had been given to Crœsus. Herodotus' point of view led him to believe that no one, though warned by portents, dreams, and oracles, could escape the doom which hung over him. In this fact lay the justification of the Delphian oracle in regard to the prophecies given to Crœsus. It had announced what was correct, but owing to the blindness sent upon him by fate, Crœsus had not been able to understand its meaning.

Guided by these views, Herodotus represents misfortune as coming on Crœsus in one blow upon another immediately after he had displayed the splendour of his empire to Solon, and in foolish vainglory had declared himself to be the most fortunate of men. That Crœsus had two sons, one a youth of promise, the other dumb, and that he lost the former in the bloom of his youth, are facts mentioned by Xenophon as well as Herodotus.[13] A dream indicates to Crœsus the death which is destined for his noble son; and the means which he adopts to avert the death serve to bring it about. Adrastus, who first slays