An oracle deceived your father and plunged him into ruin, but the oracle is miraculous, and so you too, in perfect confidence, allow it to rob you of happiness!" "That is blasphemy, Araspes.

Are the gods to be blamed because we misunderstand their words ?" "Certainly: for if they wished to benefit us they would give us, with the words, the necessary penetration for discovering their meaning.

What good does a beautiful speech do me, if it is in a foreign language that I do not understand ?" "Leave off this useless discussion," said Darius, "and tell us instead, Araspes, how it is that, though you congratulate every man on becoming a bridegroom, you yourself have so long submitted to be blamed by the priests, slighted at all entertainments and festivals, and abused by the women, only because you choose to live and die a bachelor ?" Araspes looked down thoughtfully, then shook himself, took a long draught from the wine-cup, and said, "I have my reasons, friends, but I cannot tell them now." "Tell them, tell them," was the answer.
"No, children, I cannot, indeed I cannot.

This cup I drain to the health of the charming Sappho, and this second to your good fortune, my favorite, Darius." "Thanks, Araspes!" exclaimed Bartja, joyfully raising his goblet to his lips.
"You mean well, I know," muttered Darius, looking down gloomily.
"What's this, you son of Hystaspes ?" cried the old man, looking more narrowly at the serious face of the youth.

"Dark looks like these don't sit well on a betrothed lover, who is to drink to the health of his dearest one.