Cyropaedia: The Education of Cyrus. Xenophon
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they chanced upon, and drive the spoil back to him.
(18) While this was going on news was brought to Astyages that the enemy was across the border, and he hastened to the rescue at once, himself at the head of his own body-guard, and his son with such troopers as were ready to hand, leaving word for others to follow with all despatch. But when they were in sight of the Assyrians, and saw their serried ranks, horse and foot, drawn up in order, compact and motionless, they came to a halt themselves. (19) Now Cyrus, seeing that all the rest of the world was off to the rescue, boot and saddle, must needs ride out too, and so put on his armour for the first time, and could scarcely believe it was true, he had longed so often and so ardently to wear it all. And right beautiful it was, and right well it fitted the lad, the armour that his grandsire had had made for him. So he put on the whole accoutrement, mounted his charger, and galloped to the front. And Astyages, though he wondered who had sent the boy, bade him stay beside him, now that he had come. Cyrus, as he looked at the horsemen facing them, turned to his grandfather with the question, "Can those men yonder be our enemies, grandfather, those who are standing so quietly beside their horses?" "Enemies they are too for all that," said the king. "And are those enemies too?" the boy asked, "those who are riding over there?" "Yes, to be sure." "Well, grandfather, a sorry set they look, and sorry jades they ride to ravage our lands! It would be well for some of us to charge them!" "Not yet, my boy," answered his grandfather, "look at the mass of horsemen there. If we were to charge the others now, these friends of theirs would charge us, for our full strength is not yet on the field." "Yes, but," suggested the boy, "if you stay here yourself, ready to receive our supporters, those fellows will be afraid to stir either, and the cattle-lifters will drop their booty quick enough, as soon as they find they are attacked."
(20) Astyages felt there was much in what the boy said, and thinking all the while what wonderful sense he showed and how wide-awake he was, gave orders for his son to take a squadron of horse and charge the raiders. "If the main body move to attack," he added, "I will charge myself and give them enough to do here." Accordingly Cyaxares took a detachment of horse and galloped to the field. Cyrus seeing the charge, darted forward himself, and swept to the van, leading it with Cyaxares close at his heels and the rest close behind them. As soon as the plunderers saw them, they left their booty and took to flight. (21) The troopers, with Cyrus at their head, dashed in to cut them off, and some they overtook at once and hewed down then and there; others slipped past, and then they followed in hot pursuit, and caught some of them too. And Cyrus was ever in the front, like a young hound, untrained as yet but bred from a gallant stock, charging a wild-boar recklessly; forward he swept, without eyes or thought for anything but the quarry to be captured and the blow to be struck. But when the Assyrian army saw their friends in trouble they pushed forward, rank on rank, saying to themselves the pursuit would stop when their own movement was seen. (22) But Cyrus never slackened his pace a whit: in a transport of joy he called on his uncle by name as he pressed forward, hanging hot-foot on the fugitives, while Cyaxares still clung to his heels, thinking maybe what his father Astyages would say if he hung back, and the others still followed close behind them, even the faint-hearted changed into heroes for the nonce.
Now Astyages, watching their furious onslaught, and seeing the enemy move steadily forward in close array to meet them, decided to advance without a moment's delay himself, for fear that his son and Cyrus might come to harm, crashing in disorder against the solid battalions of the foe. (23) The Assyrians saw the movement of the king and came to a halt, spears levelled and bows bent, expecting that, when their assailants came within range, they would halt likewise as they had usually done before. For hitherto, whenever the armies met, they would only charge up to a certain distance, and there take flying shots, and so keep up the skirmish until evening fell. But now the Assyrians saw their own men borne down on them in rout, with Cyrus and his comrades at their heels in full career, while Astyages and his cavalry were already within bowshot. It was more than they could face, and they turned and fled. After them swept the Medes in full pursuit, and those they caught they mowed down, horse and man, and those that fell they slew. There was no pause until they came up with the Assyrian foot. (24) Here at last they drew rein in fear of some hidden ambuscade, and Astyages led his army off. The exploit of his cavalry pleased him beyond measure, but he did not know what he could say to Cyrus. It was he to whom the engagement was due, and the victory; but the boy's daring was on the verge of madness. Even during the return home his behaviour was strange; he could not forbear riding round alone to look into the faces of the slain, and those whose duty it was could hardly drag him away to lead him to Astyages: indeed, the youth was glad enough to keep them as a screen between himself and the king, for he saw that the countenance of his grandfather grew stern at the sight of him.
(25) So matters passed in Media: and more and more the name of Cyrus was on the lip of every man, in song and story everywhere, and Astyages, who had always loved him, was astonished beyond all measure at the lad. Meanwhile his father, Cambyses, rejoiced to hear such tidings of his son; but, when he heard that he was already acting like a man of years, he thought it full time to call him home again that he might complete his training in the discipline of his fatherland. The story tells how Cyrus answered the summons, saying he would rather return home at once so that his father might not be vexed or his country blame him. And Astyages, too, thought it his plain duty to send the boy back, but he must needs give him horses to take with him, as many as he would care to choose, and other gifts beside, not only for the love he bore him but for the high hopes he had that the boy would one day prove a man of mark, a blessing to his friends, and a terror to his foes. And when the time came for Cyrus to go, the whole world poured out to speed him on his journey—little children and lads of his own age, and grown men and greybeards on their steeds, and Astyages the king. And, so says the chronicle, the eyes of none were dry when they turned home again. (26) Cyrus himself, they tell us, rode away in tears. He heaped gifts on all his comrades, sharing with them what Astyages had given to himself; and at last he took off the splendid Median cloak he wore and gave it to one of them, to tell him, plainer than words could say, how his heart clung to him above the rest. And his friends, they say, took the gifts he gave them, but they brought them all back to Astyages, who sent them to Cyrus again. But once more Cyrus sent them back to Media with this prayer to his grandfather:—"If you would have me hold my head up when I come back to you again, let my friends keep the gifts I gave them." And Astyages did as the boy asked.
(27) And here, if a tale of boyish love is not out of place, we might tell how, when Cyrus was just about to depart and the last good-byes were being said, each of his kinsmen in the Persian fashion—and to this day the custom holds in Persia—kissed him on the lips as they bade him god-speed. Now there was a certain Mede, as beautiful and brave a man as ever lived, who had been enamoured of Cyrus for many a long day, and, when he saw the kiss, he stayed behind, and after the others had withdrawn he went up to Cyrus and said, "Me, and me alone, of all your kindred, Cyrus, you refuse to recognize?" And Cyrus answered, "What, are you my kinsman too?" "Yes, assuredly," the other answered, and the lad rejoined, "Ah, then, that is why you looked at me so earnestly; and I have seen you look at me like that, I think, more than once before." "Yes," answered the Mede, "I have often longed to approach you, but as often, heaven knows, my heart failed me." "But why should that be," said Cyrus, "seeing you are my kinsman?" And with the word, he leant forward and kissed him on the lips. (28) Then the Mede, emboldened by the kiss, took heart and said, "So in Persia it is really the custom for relatives to kiss?" "Truly yes," answered Cyrus, "when we see each other after a long absence, or when we part for a journey." "Then the time has come," said the other, "to give me a second kiss, for I must leave you now." With that Cyrus kissed him again and so they parted. But the travellers were not far on their way when suddenly the Mede came galloping after them, his charger covered with foam. Cyrus caught sight of him:—"You have forgotten something? There is something else you wanted to say?" "No," said the Mede, "it is only such a long, long while since we met." "Such a little, little while you mean, my kinsman," answered Cyrus. "A little while!" repeated the other. "How can you say that? Cannot you understand that the time it takes to wink is a whole eternity if it severs me from the beauty of your face?"
Then Cyrus burst out laughing in spite of his own tears, and bade the unfortunate man take heart of grace and be gone. "I shall soon be back with you again, and then you can stare at me to your heart's content, and never wink at all."
(C.5) Thus Cyrus left his grandfather's court and