The Persians took Croesus and led him to Cyrus, who had a great pyre erected and ordered Croesus bound in fetters to mount it and along with him twice seven children of the Lydians. Cyrus intended either to offer them as the first fruits of the booty to some one of the gods, perhaps in a desire to fulfill a vow, or having learned that Croesus was a god-fearing man placed him on the pyre wishing to see if any of the gods would save him from being burned alive. At any rate this is what Cyrus did, but to Croesus as he stood on the pyre came the realization (even though he was in such sore distress) that the words of Solon had been spoken under god's inspiration: "No one of the living is happy!'' As this occurred to him he sighed and groaned and broke the lengthy silence by calling out three times the name of Solon. When Cyrus heard this he bade interpreters ask Croesus who this was whom he invoked, and they came up and asked the question. For a time Croesus did not answer but eventually through compulsion he said: "The man I should like at all costs to converse with every tyrant." Since his words were unintelligible to them, they asked again and again what he meant; annoyed by their persistence, he told how Solon the Athenian first came to him and after having beheld all his prosperity made light of it by the nature of his talk, and how everything turned out for him just as Solon had predicted, with words that had no more r e ference to Croesus himself than to all mankind and especially those who in their own estimation considered themselves to be happy.

As Croesus talked, the fire was kindled and began to burn the outer edges of the pyre. When Cyrus heard from his interpreters what Croesus had said, he changed his mind, reflecting that he too was a human being who .was surrendering another human being while still alive to the fire; besides he feared retribution and, realizing how nothing in human affairs is certain and secure, he ordered the burning fire to be quenched as quickly as possible and Croesus and those with him taken down from the pyre. And they made the attempt but were unable to master the flames. Then, according to the Lydian version of the story, when Croesus learned of Cyrus' change of heart as he saw all the men trying to put out the fire but no longer able to hold it in check, he shouted aloud calling on Apollo, if ever he had received from him any gift that was pleasing, to stand by him and save him from the present evil. In tears he called on the god and suddenly out of the clear and calm atmosphere storm clouds rushed together, burst forth in violent torrents of rain, and quenched the fire. Thus Cyrus knew that Croesus was beloved by god and a good man. He brought him down from the pyre and asked: "Croesus, what man persuaded you to march against my land and become my enemy instead of my friend?" And he answered: "0 king, these things I have done are to your good fortune but my own misfortune. The god of the Hellenes is responsible since he incited me to war. For no one is so senseless as to prefer war instead of peace. In time of peace sons bury their fathers, but in war fathers bury their sons. But it was somehow the pleasure of the gods that this be so." These were his words, and Cyrus released him and sat by his side and held him in great respect, and both he and all those around him looked on him with wonder.   Thus Croesus became the wise and benevolent counselor of Cyrus, who in his gratitude asked (Herodotus 1. 90-91): 66 Croesus, since you, a valiant king, are determined to do excellent things in word and deed, ask straightway for whatever gift you wish to have." And he said: "My master, you would please me if you allow that I ask the god of the Greeks whom I honored most of all whether it is his custom to deceive those who have done him well and send these fetters of mine to him." Cyrus asked what was the complaint that prompted this request. . . . Croesus explained how he felt, telling about the answers from the shrine, and especially the offerings he had made and how he had marched against Persia at the instigation of the oracle. These were his words and he ended by repeating his request that he be allowed to reproach the god. Cyrus replied with a laugh: "I shall grant both requests and any other which you may at any time demand." After Croesus heard this, he sent Lydians to Delphi, enjoining them to place his fetters on the threshold of the temple and ask the god if he were not at all ashamed of having incited Croesus, by his oracles, to march against the Persians as though to bring an end to the power of Cyrus, when these (they were to point to the fetters) were the fruits of the campaign. They were to ask as well if it was customary for the gods of the Hellenes to be ungrateful. When the Lydians arrived and spoke what they had been told, the Pythian priestess is said to have replied as follows. "It is impossible even for god to escape destined fate.

Croesus had fulfilled the payment for the sin of his fifth ancestor', one of the bodyguard of the Heraclidae who, following the guile of a woman, killed his master and assumed the royal power that in no way belonged to him. Apollo was anxious that the fall of Sardis occur in the generation of Croesus' children and not that of Croesus himself, but he was not able to persuade the Fates. As much time as they granted he took and gave as a gift to Croesus. He postponed the capture of Sardis for three years and Croesus should know that he was three years later than had been destined. Besides this, Apollo saved him from burning. And it was not right that Croesus find fault with the oracle that he received. For Apollo warned that if he marched against Persia he would destroy a great empire. He should, if he were going to act wisely with respect to this reply, have sent again to ask whether his own empire or that of Cyrus was meant. If he did not understand the reply and he did not press the question he should see himself as the one to blame. And when he had last consulted the oracle and Apollo had spoken the words about the mule, he did not understand even this. For Cyrus himself was the mule. He was born of parents of different races and stations, his mother the better, his father the lesser of the two. For she was a Mede, daughter of Astyages, king of the Medes, but he was a Persian and a subject and although inferior in all these ways married his mistress." This was the Pythian's response to the Lydians and they returned to Sardis and told Croesus. When he heard he agreed that it was his own fault and not that of the god. The Herodotean account gives us a glimpse into the fascinating world of historical myth. How can one possibly with complete confidence isolate the facts from the fiction in the epic and literary context of Herodotus' art? The name of Croesus' son Atys means the one under the influence of Ate (a goddess of doom and destruction), and he has links, too, with Attis and Adonis in cult and in story.

Adrastus may be connected to the mythological concept of Nemesis or Adrasteia (Necessity), and the name Adrastus may be translated < < the one who cannot escape," that is, "the one who is doomed." Incidents in the tale recall those of the Calydonian boar hunt. Is there anyone today who has enough faith in miracles to believe that Apollo saved Croesus from a fiery death? But there are parts of the myth that perhaps may be true. Despite the chronological problems, Solon could have met Croesus, although not at the time Herodotus imagine; Croesus probably had a son named Atys who died young. But the historian could never be satisfied with this prosaic truth alone. His stories (wrought with exquisite art) must illustrate a different level of emotional and spiritual truth that illuminates character and elucidates philosophy. The life of Tellus the Athenian, the happiest of men, reveals the character and the values of those who fought at Marathon and explains in part (military numbers and strategy will come later) why they defeated the Persians. These are truths, too, but of another order, and they are the essence of mythic art. Finally another word of caution about generalizations concerning Greek religious attitudes. It has been claimed that the Greeks had no bible or strict dogma and (incredible as it may seem) no real sense of sin, or they were innocently free and tolerant in their acceptance of new gods (what difference does one more make to a polytheist?), and so on. One cannot merely repeat stories (many of them from Ovid) and make pronouncement upon the spiritual adequacy or inadequacy of the theological convictions they are supposed to represent. Mythology, philosophy, and religion are inextricably entwined, and one must try to look at all the evidence. Homer offered to the Greeks as a people a literary bible of humanism that could on occasion be quoted (as Shakespeare for us) like scripture; the mystery religions provided certain segments with a dogma and ritual of a more exacting nature, whether written or unwritten. Certainly Hesiod pronounces his divine revelation with a vehement biblical authority. Priests and priestesses devoted their lives to the service of the gods. The state (or better the city-states) upheld by custom, tradition, and law strict moral and ethical codes of behavior. If the stories of opposition to the new god Dionysus rest upon any stratum of historical truth, a foreign message of salvation was not always readily or easily accommodated, and one could be put to death (in Athens of all places) on a charge of impiety. The Greeks thought profoundly about god and man, the immortality of the soul, and the meaning and consequences of vice and virtue. The myth of Er (translated in a later chapter) is a terrifying vision of heaven and hell; as such it is a religious document. Along with abundant and varied other evidence it shows that Greek philosophical thought can hold its own with that of any one of the so-called higher religions.