The myth of Kyros, which the majority of investigators place in the center of this entire mythical circle, without entirely sufficient grounds, it would appear—has been transmitted to us in several versions. According to the report of Herodotus (about 450 B.C.), who states (I, 95) that among four renderings known to him, he selected the least “glorifying” version, the story of the birth and youth of Kyros is as follows, I, 107 et seq. [44].
Royal sway over the Medes was held, after Kyaxares, by his son Astyages, who had a daughter named Mandane. Once he saw, in a dream, so much water passing from her as to fill an entire city, and inundate all Asia. He related his dream to the dream interpreters among the magicians, and was in great fear after they had explained it all to him. When Mandane had grown up, he gave her in marriage, not to a Mede, his equal in birth, but to a Persian, by name of Kambyses. This man came of a good family and led a quiet life. The King considered him of lower rank than a middle class Mede. After Mandane had become the wife of Kambyses, Astyages saw another dream vision in the first year. He dreamed that a vine grew from his daughter’s lap, and this vine overshadowed all Asia. After he had again related this vision to the dream interpreters, he sent for his daughter, who was with child, and after her arrival from Persia, he watched her, because he meant to kill her offspring. For the dream interpreters among the magicians had prophesied to him that his daughter’s son would become king in his place. In order to avert this fate, he waited until Kyros was born, and then sent for Harpagos, who was his relative and his greatest confidant among the Medes, and whom he had placed over all his affairs. Him he addressed as follows: “My dear Harpagos, I shall charge thee with an errand which thou must conscientiously perform. But do not deceive me, and let no other man attend to it, for all might not go well with thee. Take this boy, whom Mandane has brought forth, carry him home, and kill him. Afterwards thou canst bury him, how and in whatsoever manner thou desirest.” But Harpagos made answer: “Great King, never hast thou found thy servant disobedient, and also in future I shall beware not to sin before thee. If such is thy will, it behooves me to carry it out faithfully.” When Harpagos had thus spoken, and the little boy with all his ornaments had been delivered into his hands, for death, he went home weeping. On his arrival he told his wife all that Astyages had said to him. But she inquired, “What art thou about to do?” He made reply: “I shall not obey Astyages, even if he raved and stormed ten times worse than he is doing. I shall not do as he wills, and consent to such a murder. I have a number of reasons: in the first place, the boy is my blood relative; then, Astyages is old, and he has no male heir. Should he die, and the kingdom go to his daughter, whose son he bids me kill at present, would I not run the greatest danger? But the boy must die, for the sake of my safety. However, one of Astyages’ men is to be his murderer, not one of mine.”
Having thus spoken, he at once despatched a messenger to one of the king’s cattle herders, by name Mithradates, who, as he happened to know, was keeping his herd in a very suitable mountain pasturage, full of wild animals. The herder’s wife was also a slave of Astyages’, by name Kyno in Greek, or Spako (a bitch) in the Medean language. When the herder hurriedly arrived, on the command of Harpagos, the latter said to him: “Astyages bids thee take this boy and expose him in the wildest mountains, that he may perish as promptly as may be, and the King has ordered me to say to thee: If thou doest not kill the boy, but let him live, in whatever way, thou art to die a most disgraceful death. And I am charged to see to it that the boy is really exposed.” When the herder had listened to this, he took the boy, went home, and arrived in his cottage. His wife was with child, and was in labor the entire day, and it happened that she was just bringing forth, when the herder had gone to the city. They were greatly worried about each other. But when he had returned and the woman saw him again so unexpectedly, she asked in the first place why Harpagos had sent for him so hurriedly. But he said: “My dear wife, would that I had never seen what I have seen and heard in the city, and what has happened to our masters. The house of Harpagos was full of cries and laments. This startled me, but I entered, and soon after I had entered, I saw a small boy lying before me, who struggled and cried and was dressed in fine garments and gold. When Harpagos saw me, he bid me quickly take the boy, and expose him in the wildest spot of the mountains. He said Astyages had ordered this, and added awful threats if I failed to do so. I took the child and went away with it, thinking that it belonged to one of the servants, for it did not occur to me whence it had come. But on the way, I learned the entire story from the servant who led me from the city, and placed the boy in my hands. He is the son of Mandane, daughter of Astyages, and Kambyses the son of Kyros; and Astyages has ordered his death. Behold, here is the boy.”
Having thus spoken, the herder uncovered the child and showed it to her, and when the woman saw that he was a fine strong child, she wept, and fell at her husband’s feet, and implored him not to expose it. But he said he could not do otherwise, for Harpagos would send servants to see if this had been done; he would have to die a disgraceful death unless he did so. Then she said again: “If I have failed to move thee, do as follows, so that they may see an exposed child: I have brought forth a dead child; take it and expose it, but the son of the daughter of Astyages we will raise as our own child. In this way, thou wilt not be found a disobedient servant, nor will we fare ill ourselves. Our stillborn child will be given a kingly burial, and the living child’s life will be preserved.” The herder did as his wife had begged and advised him to do. He placed his own dead boy in a basket, dressed him in all the finery of the other, and exposed him on the most desert mountain. Three days later he announced to Harpagos that he was now enabled to show the boy’s cadaver. Harpagos sent his most faithful body guardians, and ordered the burial of the cattle herder’s son. The other boy, however, who was known later on as Kyros, was brought up by the herder’s wife. They did not call him Kyros, but gave him another name.
When the boy was twelve years old the truth was revealed, through the following accident. He was playing on the road, with other boys of his own age, in the village where the cattle were kept. The boys played “King,” and elected the supposed son of the cattle herder. [45] But he commanded some to build houses, others to carry lances; one he made the king’s watchman, the other was charged with the bearing of messages; briefly, each received his appointed task. One of the boy’s playmates, however, was the son of Artembares, a respected man among the Medes, and when he did not do as Kyros ordained, the latter made the other boys seize him. The boys obeyed, and Kyros chastised him with severe blows. After they let him go, he became furiously angry, as if he had been treated improperly. He ran into the city and complained to his father of what Kyros had done to him. He did not mention the name of Kyros for he was not yet called so, but said the cattle herder’s son. Artembares went wrathfully with his son to Astyages, complained of the disgraceful treatment, and spoke thus: “Great king, we suffer such outrageous treatment from thy servant, the herder’s son,” and he showed him his own son’s shoulders. When Astyages heard and saw this, he wished to vindicate the boy for the sake of Artembares, and he sent for the cattle herder with his son. When both were present, Astyages looked at Kyros and said: “Thou, a lowly man’s son, hast had the effrontery to treat so disgracefully the son of a man whom I greatly honor!” But he made answer: “Lord, he has only received his due. For the boys in the village, he being among them, were at play, and made me their king, believing me to be the best adapted thereto. And the other boys did as they were told, but he was disobedient, and did not mind me at all. For this he has received his reward. If I have deserved punishment, here I am at your service.”
When the boy spoke in this way, Astyages knew him at once. For the features of the face appeared to him as his own, and the answer was that of a highborn youth; furthermore, it seemed to him that the time of the exposure agreed with the boy’s age. This smote his heart, and he remained speechless for a while. Hardly had he regained control over himself, when he spoke to get rid of Artembares, so as to be able to question the cattle herder without witnesses. “My dear Artembares,” he said, “I shall take care that neither thou nor thy son shall have cause for complaint.” Thus he dismissed Artembares. Kyros, however, was led into the palace by the servants, on the command of Astyages, and the cattle herder had to stay behind. When he was all alone with him Astyages questioned him whence he had obtained the boy, and who had given the child into his hands. But the herder said that he was his own son, and that the woman who had borne him was living with him. Astyages remarked that he was very unwise, to look out for most cruel tortures, and he beckoned the sword bearers to take hold of him. As he was being led to torture, the herder confessed the whole story, from beginning to end, the entire truth, finally beginning to beg and implore forgiveness and pardon. Meanwhile Astyages was not so incensed against the herder, who had revealed to him the truth, as against Harpagos; he ordered the sword bearers to summon him, and when Harpagos stood before him, Astyages asked him as follows: “My dear Harpagos, in what fashion hast thou taken the life of my daughter’s son, whom I once delivered over to thee?” Seeing the cattle herder standing near, Harpagos did not resort to untruthfulness, for fear that he would be refuted at once, and so he proceeded to tell the truth. Astyages concealed the anger which he had aroused in him, and first told him what he had learned from the herder; then he mentioned that the boy was still living, and that everything had turned out all right. He said that he had greatly regretted what he had done to the child, and that his daughter’s reproaches had pierced his soul. “But as everything has ended so well, send thy son to greet the newcomer, and then come to eat with me, for I am ready to prepare a feast in honor of the Gods who have brought all this about.”
When Harpagos heard this, he prostrated himself on the ground before the king, and praised himself for his error having turned out well, and for being invited to the king’s table, in commemoration of a happy event. So he went home, and when he arrived there, he at once sent off his only son, a boy of about thirteen years, telling him to go to Astyages, and to do as he was bid. Then Harpagos joyfully told his wife what had befallen him. But Astyages butchered the son of Harpagos when he came, cut him to pieces, and roasted the flesh in part; another portion of the flesh was cooked, and when everything was prepared he kept it in readiness. When the hour of the meal had come, Harpagos and the other guests arrived. A table with sheep’s meat was arranged in front of Astyages and the others, but Harpagos was served with his own son’s flesh, without the head, and without the choppings of hands and feet, but with everything else. These parts were kept hidden in a basket. When Harpagos seemed to have taken his fill, Astyages asked him if the meat had tasted good to him, and when Harpagos answered that he had enjoyed it, the servants, who had been ordered to do so, brought in his own son’s covered head, with the hands and feet, stepped up to Harpagos, and told him to uncover and take what he desired. Harpagos did so, uncovered the basket, and saw the remnants of his son. When he saw this, he did not give way to his horror, but controlled himself. Astyages then asked him if he knew of what game he had eaten; and he replied that he knew it very well, and that whatever the king did was well done. Thus he spoke, took the flesh that remained, and went home with it, where he probably meant to bury it together.
This was the revenge of Astyages upon Harpagos. Concerning Kyros, he took counsel, and summoned the same magicians who had explained his dream, then he asked them how they had at one time interpreted his vision in a dream. But they said that the boy must become a king, if he remained alive, and did not die prematurely. Astyages made reply: “The boy is alive, and is here, and as he was staying in the country, the boys of the village elected him for their king. But he did everything like the real kings, for he ordained to himself as the master, sword bearers, gate keepers, messengers, and everything. How do you mean to interpret this?” The magicians made reply: “If the boy is alive, and has been made king without the help of anyone, thou canst be at ease so far as he is concerned, and be of good cheer, for he will not again be made a king. Already several prophecies of ours have applied to insignificant trifles, and what rests upon dreams is apt to be vain.” Astyages made reply: “Ye sorcerers, I am entirely of your opinion that the dream has been fulfilled when the boy was king in name, and that I have nothing more to fear from him. Yet counsel me carefully as to what is safest for my house and for yourselves.” Then the magicians said: “Send the boy away, that he may get out of thy sight, send him to the land of the Persians, to his parents.” When Astyages had heard this, he was greatly pleased. He sent for Kyros, and said to him: “My son, I have wronged thee greatly, misled by a deceitful dream, but thy good fortune has saved thee. Now go cheerfully to the land of the Persians; I shall give thee safe conduct. There wilt thou find a very different father, and a very different mother than the herders, Mithradates and his wife.” Thus spake Astyages, and Kyros was sent away. When he arrived in the house of Kambyses, his parents received him with great joy when they learned who he was, for they believed him to have perished at that time, and they desired to know how he had been preserved. He told them that he had believed himself to be the son of the cattle herder, but had learned everything on the way from the companions whom Astyages had sent with him. He related that the cattle herder’s wife had saved him, and praised her throughout. The bitch (Spako) played the principal part in his conversation. The parents took hold of this name, so that the preservation of the child might appear still more wonderful, and thus was laid the foundation of the myth that the exposed Kyros was nursed by a bitch.
Later on, Kyros, on the instigation of Harpagos, stirred up the Persians against the Medes. War was declared, and Kyros, at the head of the Persians, conquered the Medes in battle. Astyages was taken a prisoner alive, but Kyros did not harm him, but kept him with him until his end. Herodotus’s report concludes with the words: “But from that time on the Persians and Kyros reigned over Asia. Thus was Kyros born and raised, and made a king.”
The report of Pompeius Trogus is preserved only in the extract by Justinus. [46] Astyages had a daughter but no male heir. In his dream he saw a vine grow forth from her lap, the sprouts of which overshadowed all Asia. The dream interpreters declared that the vision signified the magnitude of his grandson, whom his daughter was to bear; but also his own loss of his dominions. In order to banish this dread, Astyages gave his daughter in marriage neither to a prominent man, nor to a Mede, so that his grandson’s mind might not be uplifted by the paternal estate besides the maternal; but he married her to Kambyses, a middle-class man from the then unknown people of the Persians. But this was not enough to banish the fears of Astyages, and he summoned his pregnant daughter, in order to have her infant destroyed before his eyes. When a boy had been born, he gave him to Harpagos, his friend and confidant, to kill him. For fear that the daughter of Astyages would take revenge upon him for the death of her boy, when she came to reign after her father’s death, he delivered the boy to the king’s herder for exposure. At the same time when Kyros was born, a son happened to be born also to the herder. When his wife learned that the king’s child had been exposed, she urgently prayed for it to be brought to her, that she might look at it. Moved by her entreaties, the herder returned to the woods. There he found a bitch standing beside the child, giving it her teats, and keeping the beasts and birds away from it. At this aspect he was filled with the same compassion as the bitch; so that he picked up the boy and carried him home, the bitch following him in great distress. When his wife took the boy in her arms, he smiled at her as if he already knew her; and as he was very strong, and ingratiated himself with her by his pleasant smile, she voluntarily begged the herder to (expose her own child instead and) [47] permit her to raise the boy; be it that she was interested in his welfare, or that she placed her hopes on him. Thus the two boys had to exchange fates; one was raised in place of the herder’s child, while the other was exposed instead of the grandson of the king.
The sequel of this apparently more primitive report agrees essentially with the relation of Herodotus.
An altogether different version of the Kyros myth is extant in the report of a contemporary of Herodotus, Ktesias, the original of which has been lost, but is replaced by a fragment of Nikolaos of Damaskos. [48] This fragment from Nikolaos summarizes the narrative of Ktesias, which comprised more than an entire book in his Persian history. Astyages is said to have been the worthiest king of the Medes, after Abakes. Under his rule occurred the great transmutation through which the rulership passed from the Medes to the Persians, through the following cause: The Medes had a law that a poor man who went to a rich man for his support, and surrendered himself to him, had to be fed and clothed and kept like a slave by the rich man, or in case the latter refused to do so, the poor man was at liberty to go elsewhere. In this way a boy by name of Kyros, a Mard by birth, came to the king’s servant who was at the head of the palace sweepers. Kyros was the son of Atradates, whose poverty made him live as a robber, and whose wife, Argoste, Kyros’ mother, made her living by tending the goats. Kyros surrendered himself for the sake of his daily bread, and helped to clean the palace. As he was diligent, the foreman gave him better clothing, and advanced him from the outside sweepers to those who cleaned the interior of the king’s palace, placing him under their superintendent. This man was severe, however, and often whipped Kyros. He left him and went to the lamp-lighter, who liked Kyros, and approached him to the king, by placing him among the royal torch bearers. As Kyros distinguished himself also in his new position, he came to Artembares, who was at the head of the cup bearers, and himself presented the cup to the king. Artembares gladly accepted Kyros, and bade him pour the wine for the guests at the king’s table. Not long afterwards, Astyages noticed the dexterity and nimbleness of Kyros’ service, and his graceful presentation of the wine cup, so that he asked of Artembares whence this youth had come who was so skillful a cup bearer. “O Lord,” spake he, “this boy is thy slave, of Persian parentage, from the tribe of the Mards, who has surrendered himself to me to make a living.” Artembares was old, and once on being attacked by a fever, he prayed the king to let him stay at home until he had recovered. “In my stead, the youth whom thou hast praised will pour the wine, and if he should please thee, the king, as a cup bearer, I, who am an eunuch, will adopt him as my son.” Astyages consented, but the other confided in many ways in Kyros as in a son. Kyros thus stood at the king’s side, and poured his wine by day and by night, showing great ability and cleverness. Astyages conferred upon him the income of Artembares, as if he had been his son, adding many presents, and Kyros became a great man whose name was heard everywhere.
Astyages had a very noble and beautiful daughter, [49] whom he gave to the Mede Spitamas, adding all Media as her dowry. Then Kyros sent for his father and mother, in the land of the Medes, and they rejoiced in the good fortune of their son, and his mother told him the dream which she had at the time that she was bearing him, while asleep in the sanctuary as she was tending the goats. So much water passed away from her that it became as a large stream, inundating all Asia, and flowing as far as the sea. When the father heard this, he ordered the dream to be placed before the Chaldeans in Babylon. Kyros summoned the wisest among them, and communicated the dream to him. He declared that the dream foretold great good fortune to Kyros, and the highest dignity in Asia; but Astyages must not learn of it, “for else he would disgracefully kill thee, as well as myself the interpreter,” said the Babylonian. They swore to each other to tell no one of this great and incomparable vision. Kyros later on rose to still higher dignities, created his father a Satrap of Persia, and raised his mother to the highest rank and possessions among the Persian women. But when the Babylonian was killed soon afterwards by Oebares, the confidant of Kyros, his wife betrayed the fateful dream to the king, when she learned of Kyros’ expedition to Persia, which he had undertaken in preparation of the revolt. The king sent his horsemen after Kyros, with the command to deliver him dead or alive. But Kyros escaped them by a ruse. Finally a combat took place, terminating in the defeat of the Medes. Kyros also conquered Egbatana, and here the daughter of Astyages and her husband Spitamas, with their two sons, were taken prisoners. But Astyages himself could not be found, for Amytis and Spitamas had concealed him in the palace, under the rafters of the roof. Kyros then ordered that Amytis, her husband, and the children should be tortured until they revealed the hiding place of Astyages, but he came out voluntarily, that his relatives might not be tortured on his account. Kyros commanded the execution of Spitamas, because he had lied in affirming to be in ignorance of Astyages’ hiding place; but Amytis became the wife of Kyros. He removed the fetters of Astyages, with which Oebares had bound him, honored him as a father, and made him a Satrap of the Barkanians.
A great similarity to Herodotus’ version of the Kyros myth is found in the early history of the Iranese royal hero, Kaikhosrav, as related by Firdusi, in the Sâh-nâme. This myth is most extensively rendered by Spiegel (Eranische Altertumskunde, I, 581 et seq.). During the warfare of King Kaikaus of Baktria and Iran, against King Afrâsiâb of Turan, Kaikaus fell out with his son, Siâvaksh, who applied to Afrâsiâb for protection and assistance. He was kindly received by Afrâsiâb, who gave him his daughter Feringis to wife, on the persuasion of his Wesir, Pirân, although he had received the prophecy that the son to be born of this union would bring great misfortune upon him. Garsevaz, the king’s brother, and a near relative of Siâvaksh, calumniates the son-in-law, and Afrâsiâb leads an army against him. Before the birth of his son, Siâvaksh is warned by a dream, which foretold destruction and death to himself, but royalty to his offspring. He therefore flies from Afrâsiâb, but is taken prisoner and killed, on the command of the Sâh. His wife, who is pregnant, is saved by Pirân from the hands of the murderers. On condition of announcing at once the delivery of Feringis to the king, Pirân is granted permission to keep her in his house. The shade of the murdered Siâvaksh once comes to him in a dream, and tells him that an avenger has been born, and Pirân actually finds in the room of Feringis a newborn boy, whom he names Kaikhosrav. Afrâsiâb no longer insisted upon the killing of the boy, but he ordered Pirân to surrender the child with a nurse to the herders, who were to raise him in ignorance of his origin. But his royal descent is promptly revealed in his courage and his demeanor; and as Pirân takes the boy back into his home, Afrâsiâb becomes distrustful, and orders the boy to be led before him. Instructed by Pirân, Kaikhosvrav plays the fool, [50] and reassured as to his harmlessness, the Sâh dismisses him to his mother, Feringis. Finally, Kaikhosvrav is crowned as king by his grandfather, Kaikaus. After prolonged, complicated, and tedious combats, Afrâsiâb is at last taken prisoner, with divine assistance. Kaikhosvrav strikes his head off, and also causes Garsivaz to be decapitated.
A certain resemblance, although more remote, to the preceding saga, is presented by the Iranese myth of Feridun, as told by Firdusi in his “Persian Hero-Myths” (translated by Schack). Zohâk, [51] the king of Iran, once sees in a dream three men of royal tribe. Two of them are bent with age, but between them is a younger man who holds a club, with a bull’s head, in his right hand; this man steps up to him, and fells him with his club to the ground. The dream interpreters declared to the king that the young hero who will dethrone him is Feridun, a scion of the tribe of Dschemschid. Zohâk at once sets out to look for the tracks of his dreaded enemy. Feridun is the son of Abtin, a grandson of Dschemschid. His father hides from the pursuit of the tyrant, but he is seized and killed. Feridun himself, a boy of tender age, is saved by his mother Firânek, who escapes with him and entrusts him to the care of the guardian of a distant forest. Here he is suckled by the cow Purmâje. For three years he remains in this place, but then his mother no longer believes him safe, and she carries him to a hermit on the mountain Alburs. Soon afterwards Zohâk comes to the forest, and kills the guardian as well as the cow.
When Feridun was sixteen years old, he came down from Mount Alburs, learned of his origin through his mother, and swore to avenge the death of his father and of his nurse. On the expedition against Zohâk he is accompanied by his two older brothers, Purmâje and Kayânuseh. He orders a club to be forged for his use, and ornaments it with the bull’s head, in memory of his foster mother the cow. With this club he smites Zohâk, as foretold by the dream.