but tyranny, and hold the tyrant's belief that he and he alone should
have more than all the rest." "Ah, but, mother," said the boy, "my
grandfather is better at teaching people to have less than their
share, not more. Cannot you see," he cried, "how he has taught all the
Medes to have less than himself? So set your mind at rest, mother, my
grandfather will never make me, or any one else, an adept in the art
of getting too much."

[C.4] So the boy's tongue ran on. But at last his mother went home,
and Cyrus stayed behind and was brought up in Media. He soon made
friends with his companions and found his way to their hearts, and
soon won their parents by the charm of his address and the true
affection he bore their sons, so much so that when they wanted a
favour from the king they bade their children ask Cyrus to arrange the
matter for them. And whatever it might be, the kindliness of the lad's
heart and the eagerness of his ambition made him set the greatest
store on getting it done. [2] On his side, Astyages could not bring
himself to refuse his grandson's lightest wish. For once, when he was
sick, nothing would induce the boy to leave his side; he could not
keep back his tears, and his terror at the thought that his
grandfather might die was plain for every one to see. If the old man
needed anything during the night Cyrus was the first to notice it, it
was he who sprang up first to wait upon him, and bring him what he
thought would please him. Thus the old king's heart was his.

[3] During these early days, it must be allowed, the boy was something
too much of a talker, in part, may be, because of his bringing-up. He
had been trained by his master, whenever he sat in judgment, to give a
reason for what he did, and to look for the like reason from others.
And moreover, his curiosity and thirst for knowledge were such that he