Henry Craik, ed. English Prose. 1916.
Vol. I. Fourteenth to Sixteenth Century
Philemon Holland (15521637) and the Classical Translators
C
Thou insatiable and bloody butcher, boast not thyself of this thou hast done, for if by the fruit and sap of the wine (wherewith thyself other whiles being filled to the very eyes art free from no madness, vice, and blasphemy) if herewith I say, thou hast taken and inchaunted my son: it is thy policy, not thy power; thy craft, not thy courage, that hath gotten thee the victory. Well then; once again hear me, and be ruled by my counsel: get thee hence yet, and be speedily packing, release my son whom thou hast in hold: for if in case thou refuse and stay but one moment, I swear by the sun, and the god and king of the Massagets, I will glut that greedy paunch of thine with abundance of blood, wherewith thou seemest to be insaturable and never to be satisfied. These words, with Cyrus, came in at one ear and went out at the other, lighter in value than the wind in weight.
Notwithstanding, seely Spargapises, son to the stout and courageous queen Tomyris, being throughly awaked and come to himself, perceiving the case he was in, humbly besought Cyrus to loose him and take off his bonds: which done, and having his hands at liberty, he pawnched himself into the belly with a javelin, and so died. Such was the end and heavy destiny of poor Spargapises, the queen’s son. Whom his mother greatly lamenting, and seeing her counsel to take no place, gathered a mighty power and fought with king Cyrus in such sort, that of all battles and combatryes of the barbarians there was never any so bloody, fell, and cruel on both sides as this. The fight and battle itself was in this manner. First of all being distant one from another a certain space, they assaulted each other by shot of arrows, which being spent and consumed, so fierce a close was given on both parts with swords, daggers, and javelins, that the very fire sparkled out by the force and might of their blows. Thus the battle remained equal a great space, neither part yielding the breadth of a hair to his enemy, till at the length the Massagets prevailing, made a great slaughter of the Persians: wherein Cyrus himself having reigned thirty years save one, made a final end and conclusion of his days: whom the wrathful queen Tomyris seeking out among the slain and mangled bodies of the Persians, took his head and throwing it into a vessel filled with blood, in vaunting and glorious wise insulted over it in these words. Thou butcherly tyrant, my son thou tookest by craft and killedst by cruelty, wherefore with thyself I have kept touch. Now therefore take thy fill, bloody caitiff, suck there till thy belly crack. In this manner died the noble king Cyrus: of whose death and end since many and sundry things are bruited, it seemed us good to follow that, which among the rest sounded nearest to truth.