[C.6] While they were concerned with these matters, an old Assyrian prince, Gobryas by name, presented himself before Cyrus, mounted on horseback and with a mounted retinue behind him, all of them armed as cavalry. The Persian officers who were appointed to receive the weapons bade them hand over their lances and have them burnt with the rest, but Gobryas said he wished to see Cyrus first. At that the adjutants led him in, but they made his escort stay where they were. [2] When the old man came before Cyrus, he addressed him at once, saying: "My lord, I am an Assyrian by birth; I have a strong fortress in my territory, and I rule over a wide domain; I have cavalry at my command, two thousand three hundred of them, all of which I offered to the king of Assyria; and if ever he had a friend, that friend was I. But he has fallen at your hands, the gallant heart, and his son, who is my bitterest foe, reigns in his stead. Therefore I have come to you, a suppliant at your feet. I am ready to be your slave and your ally, and I implore you to be my avenger. You yourself will be a son to me, for I have no male children now. [3] He whom I had, my only son, he was beautiful and brave, my lord, and loved me and honoured me as a father rejoices to be loved. And this vile king--his father, my old master, had sent for my son, meaning to give him his own daughter in marriage; and I let my boy go, with high hopes and a proud heart, thinking that when I saw him again the king's daughter would be his bride. And the prince, who is now king, invited him to the chase, and bade him do his best, for he thought himself far the finer horseman of the two. So they hunted together, side by side, as though they were friends, and suddenly a bear appeared, and the two of them gave chase, and the king's son let fly his javelin, but alas! he missed his aim, and then my son threw--oh, that he never had!--and laid the creature low. [4] The prince was stung to the quick, though for the moment he kept his rancour hidden. But, soon after that, they roused a lion, and then he missed a second time--no unusual thing for him, I imagine--but my son's spear went home, and he brought the beast down, and cried, 'See, I have shot but twice, and killed each time!' And at this the monster could not contain his jealousy; he snatched a spear from one of his followers and ran my son through the body, my only son, my darling, and took his life. [5] And I, unhappy that I am, I, who thought to welcome a bride-groom, carried home a corpse. I, who am old, buried my boy with the first down on his chin, my brave boy, my well-beloved. And his assassin acted as though it were an enemy that he had done to death. He never showed one sign of remorse, he never paid one tribute of honour to the dead, in atonement for his cruel deed. Yet his own father pitied me, and showed that he could share the burden of my grief. [6] Had he lived, my old master, I would never have