And every stroke that falls on the enemy means so much relief to our friends. [25] In the very rear of all I will post our reserve. A house is useless without a foundation as well as a roof, and our phalanx will be no use unless it has a rear-guard and a van, and both of them good. [26] You,' he added, 'will draw up the ranks to suit these orders, and you who command the targeteers will follow with your companies in the same depth, and you who command the archers will follow the targeteers. [27] Gentlemen of the reserve, you will hold your men in the rear, and pass the word down to your own subordinates to watch the men in front, cheer on those who do their duty, threaten him who plays the coward, and if any man show signs of treachery, see that he dies the death. It is for those in the van to hearten those behind them by word and deed; it is for you, the reserve, to make the cowards dread you more than the foe. [28] You know your work, and you will do it. Euphratus,' he added, turning to the officer in command of the artillery, 'see that the waggons with the towers keep as close to the phalanx as possible. [29] And you, Daouchus, bring up the whole of your baggage-train under cover of the towers and make your squires punish severely any man who breaks the line. [30] You, Carouchas, keep the women's carriages close behind the baggage-train. This long line of followers should give an impression of vast numbers, allow our own men opportunity for ambuscades, and force the enemy, if he try to surround us, to widen his circuit, and the wider he makes it the weaker he will be. [31] That, then, is your business; and you, gentlemen, Artaozus and Artagersas, each of you take your thousand foot and guard the baggage. [32] And you, Pharnouchus and Asiadatas, neither of you must lead your thousand horse into the fighting-line, you must get them under arms by themselves behind the carriages: and then come to me with the other officers as fully-equipt as if you were to be the first to fight. [53] You, sir, who command the camel-corps will take up your post behind the carriages and look for further orders to Artagersas. [34] Officers of the war-chariots, you will draw lots among yourselves, and he on whom the lot falls will bring his hundred chariots in front of the fighting-line, while the other two centuries will support our flanks on the right and left.'
[35] Such were the dispositions made by Cyrus; but Abradatas, the lord of Susa, cried:
'Cyrus, let me, I pray you, volunteer for the post in front.'
[36] And Cyrus, struck with admiration for the man, took him by the hand, and turning to the Persians in command of the other centuries said:
'Perhaps, gentlemen, you will allow this?'
But they answered that it was hard to resign the post of honour, and so they all drew lots, and the lot fell on Abradatas, and his post was face to face with the Egyptians. Then the officers left the council and carried out the orders given, and took their evening meal and posted the pickets and went to rest.
[C.4] But early on the morrow Cyrus offered sacrifice, and meanwhile the rest of the army took their breakfast, and after the libation they armed themselves, a great and goodly company in bright tunics and splendid breastplates and shining helmets. All the horses had frontlets and chest-plates, the chargers had armour on their shoulders, and the chariot-horses on their flanks; so that the whole army flashed with bronze, and shone like a flower with scarlet. [2] The eight-horse chariot of Abradatas was a marvel of beauty and richness; and just as he was about to put on the linen corslet of his native land, Pantheia came, bringing him a golden breastplate and a helmet of gold, and armlets and broad bracelets for his wrists, and a full flowing purple tunic, and a hyacinth-coloured helmet-plume. All these she had made for him in secret, taking the measure of his armour without his knowledge. [3] And when he saw them, he gazed in wonder and said:
'Dear wife, and did you destroy your own jewels to make this armour for me?'
But she said, 'No, my lord, at least not the richest of them all, for you shall be my loveliest jewel, when others see you as I see you now.'
As she spoke, she put the armour on him, but then, though she tried to hide it, the tears rolled down her cheeks.
[4] And truly, when Abradatas was arrayed in the new panoply, he, who had been fair enough to look upon before, was now a sight of splendour, noble and beautiful and free, as indeed his nature was. [5] He took the reins from the charioteer, and was about to set foot on the car, when Pantheia bade the bystanders withdraw, and said to him, 'My own lord, little need to tell you what you know already, yet this I say, if any woman loved her husband more than her own soul, I am of her company. Why should I try to speak? Our lives say more than any words of mine. [6] And yet, feeling for you what you know, I swear to you by the love between us that I would rather go down to the grave beside you after a hero's death than live on with you in shame. I have thought you worthy of the highest, and believed myself worthy to follow you. [7] And I bear in mind the great gratitude we owe to Cyrus, who, when I was his captive, chosen for his spoil, was too high-minded to treat me as a slave, or dishonour me as a free woman; he took me and saved me for you, as though I had been his brother's wife. [8] And when Araspas, my warder, turned from him, I promised, if he would let me send for you, I would bring him a friend in the other's place, far nobler and more faithful.'
[9] And as Pantheia spoke, Abradatas listened with rapture to her words, and when she ended, he laid his hand upon her head, and looking up to heaven he prayed aloud:
'O most mighty Zeus, make me worthy to be Pantheia's husband, and the friend of Cyrus who showed us honour!'
[10] Then he opened the driver's seat and mounted the car, and the driver shut the door, and Pantheia could not take him in her arms again, so she bent and kissed the chariot-box. Then the car rolled forward and she followed unseen till Abradatas turned and saw her and cried, 'Be strong, Pantheia, be of a good heart! Farewell, and hie thee home!'
[11] Thereupon her chamberlains and her maidens took her and brought her back to her own carriage, and laid her down and drew the awning. But no man, of all who was there that day, splendid as Abradatas was in his chariot, had eyes to look on him until Pantheia had gone.
[12] Meanwhile Cyrus had found the victims favourable, and his army was already drawn up in the order he had fixed. He had scouts posted ahead, one behind the other, and then he called his officers together for his final words:
[13] 'Gentlemen, my friends and allies, the sacred signs from heaven are as they were the day the gods gave us victory before, and I would call to your minds thoughts to bring you gladness and confidence for the fight. [14] You are far better trained than your enemies, you have lived together and worked together far longer than they, you have won victories together. What they have shared with one another has been defeat, and those who have not fought as yet feel they have traitors to right and left of them, while our recruits know that they enter battle in company with men who help their allies. [15] Those who trust each other will stand firm and fight without flinching, but when confidence has gone no man thinks of anything but flight. [16] Forward then, gentlemen, against the foe; drive our scythed chariots against their defenceless cars, let our armed cavalry charge their unprotected horse, and charge them home. [17] The mass of their infantry you have met before; and as for the Egyptians, they are armed in much the same way as they are marshalled; they carry shields too big to let them stir or see, they are drawn up a hundred deep, which will prevent all but the merest handful fighting. [18] If they count on forcing us back by their weigh, they must first withstand our steel and the charge of our cavalry. And if any of them do hold firm, how can they fight at once against cavalry, infantry, and turrets of artillery? For our men on the towers will be there to help us, they will smite the enemy until he flies instead of fighting. [19] If you think there is anything wanting, tell me now; God helping us, we will lack nothing. And if any man wishes to say anything, let him speak now; if not, go to the altar and there pray to the gods to whom we have sacrificed, and then fall in. [20] Let each man say to his own men what I have said to him, let him show the men he rules that he is fit to rule, let them see the fearlessness in his face, his bearing, and his words.'
NOTES
C1.9. Artabazus 'the kinsman' named now for the first time, why?
C1.11. Cf. Anglicè 'his word': a delicate appeal to a man of honour. It suits G.'s character.
C1.14-15. Speech full of metaphor: winter stalking on, with hunter and frost attendant on either side; a stealthy, but august advance.
C1.16. A happy simile: /vide/ Book of Wisdom [c. 5, 10, 'And as a ship that passeth over the waves of the water,' etc.].
C1.38. How a fault may be turned to account: Hellenic stool of repentance.
C1.41. Theory of two souls, to account for the yielding to base desires. It works, but is it not the theory of a man whose will is weak, as we say, or whose sympathetic nature has been developed at the expense of his self- regulative? There is another way of putting it in /Memorabilia/, Bk. I. c. ii., §§ 19-28. Xenophon is not more a
