This, my friends, that flows here, is blood, and not ‘Ichor, such as flows from the veins of the blessed gods.’1 Once, too, there came a great peal of thunder, and all were terrified at it; whereupon Anaxarchus the sophist who was present said to Alexander: ‘Couldst thou, the son of Zeus, thunder like that?’ At this, Alexander laughed and said: ‘Nay, I do not wish to cause fear in my friends, as thou wouldst have me do, thou who despisest my suppers because, as thou sayest, thou seest the tables furnished with fish, and not with satraps' heads.’ 2
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