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me, I have got it
still;" "And this is for you, because you wait on my grandfather so
prettily;" "And this for you, sir, because you honour my mother." And
so on until he had got rid of all the meat he had been given. [8] "But
you do not give a single piece to Sacas, my butler," quoth the
grandfather, "and I honour him more than all the rest." Now this Sacas,
as one may guess, was a handsome fellow, and he had the right to bring
before the king all who desired audience, to keep them back if he
thought the time unseasonable. But Cyrus, in answer to his
grandfather's question retorted eagerly, like a lad who did not know
what fear meant, "And why should you honour him so much,
grandfather?" Then Astyages laughed and said, "Can you not see how
prettily he mixes the cup, and with what a grace he serves the wine?"
And indeed, these royal cup-bearers are neat-handed at their task,
mixing the bowl with infinite elegance, and pouring the wine into the
beakers without spilling a drop, and when they hand the goblet they
poise it deftly between thumb and finger for the banqueter to take. [9]
"Now, grandfather," said the boy, "tell Sacas to give me the bowl, and
let me pour out the wine as prettily as he if I can, and win your favour."
So the king bade the butler hand him the bowl, and Cyrus took it and
mixed the wine just as he had seen Sacas do, and then, showing the
utmost gravity and the greatest deftness and grace, he brought the
goblet to his grandfather and offered it with such an air that his mother
and Astyages, too, laughed outright, and then Cyrus burst out laughing
also, and flung his arms round his grandfather and kissed him, crying,
"Sacas, your day is done! 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 ravenous I will say