ne! I shall oust you from your office, you
may be sure. I shall make just as pretty a cup-bearer as you--and not
drink the wine myself!" For it is the fact that the king's butler when
he offers the wine is bound to dip a ladle in the cup first, and pour
a little in the hollow of his hand and sip it, so that if he has mixed
poison in the bowl it will do him no good himself. [10] Accordingly,
Astyages, to carry on the jest, asked the little lad why he had
forgotten to taste the wine though he had imitated Sacas in everything
else. And the boy answered, "Truly, I was afraid there might be poison
in the bowl. For when you gave your birthday feast to your friends I
could see quite plainly that Sacas had put in poison for you all." "And
how did you discover that, my boy?" asked the king. "Because I saw how
your wits reeled and how you staggered; and you all began doing what you
will not let us children do--you talked at the top of your voices, and
none of you understood a single word the others said, and then you began
singing in a way to make us laugh, and though you would not listen to
the singer you swore that it was right nobly sung, and then each of you
boasted of his own strength, and yet as soon as you got up to dance, so
far from keeping time to the measure, you could barely keep your legs.
And you seemed quite to have forgotten, grandfather, that you were
king, and your subjects that you were their sovereign. Then at last I
understood that you must be celebrating that 'free speech' we hear of;
at any rate, you were never silent for an instant." [11] "Well, but,
boy," said Astyages, "does your father never lose his head when he
drinks?" "Certainly not," said the boy. "What happens then?" asked the
king. "He quenches his thirst," answered Cyrus, "and that is all. No
harm follows. You see, he has no Sacas to mix his wine for him." "But,
Cyrus," put in his mother, "why are you so unkind to Sacas?" "Because I
do so hate him," answered the boy. "Time after time when I have wanted
to go to my grandfather this old villain has stopped me. Do please,
grandfather, let me manage him for three days." "And how would you set
about it?" Astyages asked. "Why," said the boy, "I will plant myself
in the doorway just as he does, and then when he wants to go in to
breakfast I will say 'You cannot have breakfast yet: HE is busy with
some people,' and when he comes for dinner I will say 'No dinner yet: HE
is in his bath,' and as he grows rav