“Rejoice! Rejoice, men of Babylon, city favoured by Marduk! Last night the noble Sirusur, ‘Master of the host,’ made a sortie from the Gate of Borsippa, and smote the Persian barbarians utterly, slaying hundreds, and taking many of their great princes captive. This morning Cyrus, the impious blasphemer of our gods, being utterly discomfited by the valour of his Majesty’s army,—his generals deserting him, and his kingdoms of Media and Bactria having rebelled against his tyranny,—is raising the siege in all haste. His power is destroyed forever. Glory, glory to Bel-Marduk, to Istar, to Samas, whose favour is over Babylon! Rejoice! Rejoice!” “Glory to Marduk! Glory to Belshazzar, favoured son of the almighty god!” So the thousands had hailed the glad tidings, and rushed with one accord to the walls, to make sure of the news. Even so; the black tents of the besiegers were disappearing. Already the pavilion of Cyrus had vanished behind the plains; the retreat bore almost evidence of a rout. “Follow after! Destroy them utterly!” advised the younger and bolder captains about the exultant king, while he surveyed the welcome scene from the Gate of the Chaldees. But Sirusur, the victor of the sortie, who next to Belshazzar’s self had won most glory in the defence, only observed, with the prudent wisdom of the all-knowing Ea:— “Leave them alone, your Majesty; the barbarians are at strife among themselves: they will soon turn their swords on one another, and so fight for us. Our army is weary with the siege, grant it some reward before we take the field to conquer Cyrus’s provinces. Proclaim a great feast of thanksgiving throughout Babylon.” “And is it not one year to-morrow night,” demanded the king, nothing loath, “since I betrothed Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus?” “Even so, your Majesty,” quoth Bilsandan the vizier, at the other elbow. Belshazzar clapped his hands in right kingly glee. “Praised be every god! Do you proclaim a feast over the city for to-morrow and to-morrow night. Let Babylon be one house of mirth, for it shall be her king’s triumph and wedding-night together. Prepare the palace for a banquet such as no king before—no, not Nebuchadnezzar the Great—set for his lords and captains; there I will drink wine before all Babylon, and show forth the daughter of Cyrus, whom I take to wife.” Therefore for a second time the crier had fared through the streets, and all Babylon gave itself over to merriment.