"It cannot be his fault that you, in your human conceit, should have misinterpreted his oracle.
The answer did not say 'the kingdom of Persia,' but 'a kingdom' should be destroyed through your desire for war.

Why did you not enquire what kingdom was meant?
Was not your son's fate truly prophesied by the oracle?
and also that on the day of misfortune he would regain his speech?
And when, after the fall of Sardis, Cyrus granted your wish to enquire at Delphi whether the Greek gods made a rule of requiting their benefactors by ingratitude, Loxias answered that he had willed the best for you, but was controlled by a mightier power than himself, by that inexorable fate which had foretold to thy great ancestor, that his fifth successor was doomed to destruction." "In the first days of my adversity I needed those words far more than now," interrupted Croesus.

"There was a time when I cursed your god and his oracles; but later, when with my riches my flatterers had left me, and I became accustomed to pronounce judgment on my own actions, I saw clearly that not Apollo, but my own vanity had been the cause of my ruin.

How could 'the kingdom to be destroyed' possibly mean mine, the mighty realm of the powerful Croesus, the friend of the gods, the hitherto unconquered leader?
Had a friend hinted at this interpretation of the ambiguous oracle, I should have derided, nay, probably caused him to be punished.

For a despotic ruler is like a fiery steed; the latter endeavors to kick him who touches his wounds with intent to heal; the former punishes him who lays a hand on the weak or failing points of his diseased mind.