On perceiving the easy victory won by the Hellenes, Cyrus had been beside himself with joy, for he thought that the fate of the day was already decided. All those around him shared his expectation, and the officers of the body-guard sprang from their horses and threw themselves in the dust before him, as if he were already the Great King. For a moment he waited to see what the enemy would do. Then, observing that the troops of Artaxerxes were making a movement as if to wheel round and attack him in the rear, he hesitated no longer, but dashed forward with his six hundred chosen companions towards the place where the King was stationed with his guard of six thousand horse. With his own hand Cyrus killed the leader of the guard, and so irresistible was the charge, that the ranks of the enemy were broken through in a moment, and driven right and left before the cavalry of Cyrus, who pursued them eagerly. Thus it happened that the prince was left almost alone, with only his most intimate friends, those whom he called his table-companions, round him. At the same moment he caught sight of his hated brother, the troops in front of the King having been put to flight, and on seeing him, lost all command of himself. Mad with passion he galloped up to him, crying out, ‘I see the man!’ and hurling his javelin, hit him in the breast, inflicting a wound which however was but slight, the course of the javelin having been checked by the coat of mail worn by the King. But at that moment, while still almost alone, Cyrus was struck under the eye by the javelin of a Carian lancer. It was a mortal wound, and falling from his horse to the ground, he died immediately. All his table-companions fell around him; the most faithful of all leaped from his horse and threw himself upon the corpse, where he was either killed by the enemy, or, as some say, fell upon his own sword. The head and right hand of Cyrus were cut off by command of Artaxerxes, and carried through the ranks on the point of a long spear. And when Ariæus, who commanded the right wing of the rebel army, saw that Cyrus was dead, he sought safety in flight. Thus the battle which had begun so well for Cyrus, turned in a moment quite unexpectedly, and all the hopes of his followers were dashed to the ground. But for the javelin thrust which ended the life of Cyrus, the future history of Persia might have been very different. Artaxerxes, the indolent, was not the man to save his country. From him no effort could be expected, no attempt to improve his subjects, or check the luxurious selfishness which was bringing the country to ruin. But had Cyrus, the brave, wise, and generous Cyrus, become King, he might have been able, not only to arrest the ruin, but even to restore the empire to something of its former greatness. For since the time of Cyrus I., the throne of Persia had never been occupied by a man so worthy and so able to govern a great nation as was his young namesake.