Reign of Eskandar

When Alexander sat upon the throne, he said: May wisdom be the constant companion of a king's soul. The true victor in this world is God alone; any ruler who does not fear Him is doomed to evil. Good and bad alike will pass, make no mistake; no one escapes the grip of time. Whoever comes to this royal court seeking justice from us against us, whether at the hour of audience or at midnight, will get an answer the moment they open their lips. Since the Victorious One granted us this glory and opened the door of triumphant fortune to us, let all our subjects receive their share, in the mountains, the deserts, the seas, and the cities. For five years we will take no tribute from the world, except from those who claim to be our equals. We will give abundant gifts to the poor, and take nothing from those who already have. When Alexander had spoken these good words, the king's own heart was wedded to justice. A cry of praise rose up from the palace for this just ruler of the earth. After that the assembly dispersed, and the world ruler sat down with his counselor.

He ordered the scribe to come before him, and called for a Chinese pen and Roman silk. The writer sharpened his reed like a fine quill and composed a letter to Roshanak's mother. May God grant you the reward of the good, and pierce the ill wisher with the pain of an arrow. I wrote you a letter before this one, and it carried even more sorrows than these. When your husband's days had turned against him, he was slain at the hand of a servant. I prepared a shroud for him in the manner of kings, and swiftly sent him from this world with honor. I sought peace many times before the war, but he would not make peace and left no room for delay. Even his enemy grieved over his blood; may God carry his body to paradise. No one can escape the grip of death; it is the autumn wind, and we are like leaves. Now the whole world lies before you, and there are many witnesses to Dara's last counsel. For he gave Roshanak to me and said that she must be kept close and cared for. So now, along with her nurse and guardians, send the noble and worthy elders of Iran, and send her quickly to my side, that she might perhaps brighten my darkened soul. Keep Isfahan as it was before, with watchful agents spread out on every side. Let all the officials, honest and just, keep the posts that Dara son of Darab had given them. Ask for no further command from there; the whole land of Iran lies before you. Fill your heart with patience and mercy, and make my name in the world a name of ruling worth. In the same way, a letter went to Roshanak from the world ruling king who followed his own will. First he offered praise to the Creator, the ruler of the world, the wise and the sustainer. Then he said that from the lineage of a king only a pure and virtuous person is born, graceful, of good name, wisdom, and modesty, with fair speech and a gentle voice. Your father entrusted you to my keeping, then departed and left behind a good name. When you come to my chamber and my hall, you will see that you are the one I seek in all the world. You will be first among ladies, worthy of the crown, radiant with jeweled bracelets and the ivory throne. We have written a letter to your mother, that she send you here in a manner fitting you, in the custom of a child of kings, with the chief priest of Isfahan leading the way, with attendants, the crown of kings, and the litter, along with the nurse who fed you milk and honey. Be in my palace with a bright and joyful spirit; you shall be first among the ladies of the harem. May modesty forever be the companion of your heart, and the palace of kings be your hidden home. A philosopher came swift as the dust and recited the words of the king of the world.

When Delaray heard those words, she let out one cold sigh from her heart. She wept blood from her eyes for Dara, for now he lay evil-struck beneath the earth. She called the scribe to her side, her lashes scattering blood across her face. She composed a fine reply to that letter, words full of meaning and good fortune. First she gave praise to the Creator, the ruler of the world, the just Provider. Then she spoke of the turning heavens, from which come strife, and peace, and love. We had wished for Dara's glory, and adorned our tongue with his name. Now that his time has passed away, his royal head has become the wood of a coffin. I wish you goodness in this world, greatness, victory, and kingship. I want the world to bend to your desire; in this I hide nothing, I say it openly. I heard all the loving things you said; may the heavens rejoice in your soul. As for that tomb, the gallows, and Mahyar, the punishment of Janushyar's ill-wisher, when a man spills his master's blood, he does not linger long in this world. And as for the peace you sought, you spent many days offering counsel. Kings do not stoop to servitude, no crowned one seeks the role of a slave. In place of the king of kings, you are ours; as the sun outshines the moon, you are ours. May nothing in the world but your wish come to pass, and may your name always grace the palaces. And when you made mention of Roshanak, you gladdened our heart with that longing. We are your servants, we are your slaves, our heads bowed before your command and will. She sent him her greetings and wrote her reply, a fine answer, as lovely as paradise. Since the king of the age has chosen you, no one dares turn his head from your judgment. We have written letters to the great lords, to the noble-born and the warriors, saying: Dara's command is your command, let no one break faith with your covenant. She gave the messenger robes and a purse of gold, and shared with him every kind of treasure. When the Roman reached Alexander, he recounted all he had seen and heard, of that throne, that court, and its splendor, you would say the king still lived upon his seat. Alexander was gladdened by his words, and calmly set the royal crown upon his head.

From Amorium he summoned his mother, and when she came he spoke of Darius and all that had passed. He told her: Go to Delaray, and with kindness bring her fresh word of our proposal. Behind the curtains, look upon Roshanak, and when you see her, give her our blessing. Take a necklace, bracelets, and earrings, and a crown fit for a king, thick with jewels. Take a hundred camels loaded with carpets and spreads, a hundred more with every kind of gold-woven brocade. And from the treasury take some thirty thousand gold coins, packed in sacks, to be scattered as gifts. Take some three hundred Roman slave girls, and everything else that is fitting, all of it. Place a golden cup in each of their hands, in the manner of lovely women who serve a king. Take servants and attendants along the road with you, and do not fall short of the road and custom of kings. So the king's mother set out, with an interpreter and ten sweet-tongued philosophers. When she drew near to Isfahan, many great nobles came out to welcome her. Delaray came forward from her palace, she and her notables, each in their own custom. In the entrance hall they scattered so many gifts that in the eyes of a treasure the coins seemed worthless. They sat in the palace with the counselor, and all the notables gathered together. Delaray provided such a dowry that the whole world's markets came alive with it. Camel after camel stretched for miles, laden with gold and silver and colored cloth. With clothing and carpets, with cushions to lay down and treasures to scatter, with Arabian horses in golden trappings, and Indian swords in golden sheaths, with coats of mail and helmets and horse armor, with maces and the daggers of India, so much cut cloth and so much whole, no one in the world had ever seen more. They called the palace attendants and prepared forty golden litters. In one litter, with a canopy and servants, Roshanak took her seat, full of joy. From Delaray's palace to halfway along the road there was money, gold coin, horses, and soldiers. They hung festive decorations throughout the city, lips full of laughter and hearts full of blood. Over that brocade canopy they poured coins, and sifted pure musk from above. When the moon-faced bride entered the king's chamber, Alexander gazed at her a long while. At that stature, that height, that lovely face, you would say wisdom itself had raised her with love. When his mother seated her on the golden throne, Alexander poured out his very soul for her. For a week they sat together with her, and the king took counsel over matters great and small. She showed nothing but greatness and calm, wisdom, modesty, and grace. They carried many gifts from Iran, gold coin and jewels fit for a king. All the lands of Iran, Turan, and China called out their blessings on his kingship. The whole face of the earth was filled with justice, and everywhere the ruined places grew prosperous.

So spoke the Pahlavi teller of tales: it will amaze you to hear this story. There was a king of India named Kayd, who hunted for nothing but knowledge and wisdom. He had the heart of the wise and the mind of noble men; he wore the crown of kings and the cap of priests. For ten nights in a row, one after another, he dreamed. Consider how strange this was. All those in India who were learned, and skilled in speech and in knowledge, he ordered gathered into an assembly, everyone who was wise and could give counsel. He told them all his dreams, bringing what was hidden out into the open. No one could explain them; their hearts grew troubled and their faces pale. One said to Kayd: O king, wise one, heir of the great men of old, there is a famous man named Mehran who through knowledge has reached his heart's desire. In the city he finds neither sleep nor rest; he keeps company only with wild beasts. He eats the seeds of mountain plants, for he no longer counts himself among people like us. He dwells with the wild sheep and the deer, keeping apart from the trouble of men. Nothing in the world can harm him; he is a devout man of lofty fortune. Tell these dreams to no one but him, and seek no interpretation from the ignorant. The wise King Kayd said: there is no path but to go to this gifted man. At once he set his foot in the stirrup and rode off at the word of Mehran. The sages went along with him, so that the great man would not be displeased. When the world's ruler reached Mehran, he greeted the wise man as was fitting. He said: O God-worshipping man, you who dwell in the mountains with the wild sheep, listen closely to this dream of mine; interpret it and attend to each part. Know that one night, clear-minded and pure, I slept in peace, without fear or dread. I saw a house as vast as a great palace, and inside it a huge, monstrous elephant. A doorway showed larger than the palace, but before it lay a narrow hole. The raging elephant passed through that hole, and its body took no harm from the tightness. Its whole body and bulk passed through the window, yet its trunk stayed behind in the house. On the second night I dreamed the throne was left empty of me, O fortunate one, and another king sat upon that ivory throne and set the heart-brightening crown upon his head. On the third night sleep came upon me swiftly, and I saw in a dream a fine piece of linen. Four men were pulling at it, their faces gone blue from the effort. Yet the cloth tore in no place from their pulling, nor did the men grow worn out by it. On the fourth I saw, O renowned one, a man growing thirsty beside a stream. A fish kept pouring water toward him, but the thirsty man's head fled from the water. The man ran off and the water ran after him. What good can be read in such a dream? On the fifth my soul saw in a dream a city that also stood near water. All its people were blind in the eyes, yet not one of them was distressed by his blindness. With justice and giving, with buying and selling, you would say the whole city was thriving. On the sixth I saw, O honored lord, a city whose people were all sick and suffering. The healthy would come to visit them, and the sick would seek out the water of the well ones. They would ask: how are you in your pain, your body sick and your heart full of blood? The ailing, whose lives had reached their lips, all sought a cure from the healthy. When half of the seventh night had passed, I saw a swift steed out on the plain. It had two legs, two front feet, and two heads, and it kept cropping grass with its teeth. It grazed with a mouth on either side, but there was no opening in its body for anything to pass out. On the eighth I saw three jars, O pure of faith, set side by side upon the ground. Two were full of water and one empty in the middle, gone dry for years on end. Two good men from the two full jars kept pouring cold water into it, yet the two full ones grew no less from the pouring, nor did the dry one's heart fill with any moisture. On the ninth night I saw a cow in a dream, resting on water and grass beneath the sun. Before her stood a fine calf, its body thin, dry, and its face drawn. The mother cow was drinking milk from the calf, the great cow feeding on the calf that had no strength or vigor. If you will listen, I will give you the tenth dream; do not be troubled until I finish this last one. I saw a spring on a wide plain, and above it porches and a palace had been raised. The whole plain, all of it, was full of water and moisture, while the mouth of the spring stood gloomy with dryness. It would be fitting if you told me in secret what will come to pass in the world after this.

When Mehran heard Kayd's words, he told him: do not let this dream trouble your heart. Your high name will not be diminished, nor will harm come to this kingdom. Alexander will bring a heavy army, choice leaders from Rome and Iran. If you want to keep your honor, make wisdom your ally and do not seek battle with him. You have four things such that no one in the world, neither low nor high, has ever seen their like. First, your daughter, lovely as highest paradise, whose beauty lights your crown across the earth. Second, a philosopher you keep close, who will tell you all the secrets of the world. Third, a physician who is precious, whose knowledge has made his name renowned. Fourth, a cup: pour water in it and neither fire nor sun can lessen it. Its water never grows less no matter how much you drink; with these things, set your honor right. When he comes, be like this and do not plan war, if you want him not to linger here. You are no match for his army, nor for his cunning, his treasure, or his crown. Now that we have set a fortunate plan for your affair, let us also answer the dream itself. You saw a house with a narrow hole through which an elephant passed out at once. Know that house to be like the world, and that elephant to be an ungrateful king, one who is unjust and crooked of tongue, who has nothing of kingship but the name. After this a certain king will come, so weak, so useless, so unrighteous, base of heart, feeble of body, and his soul darkened with greed. How could his subjects ever be glad? The king's heart is full of grief and his lips full of empty wind. Next, what you saw of fine linen cloth, gripped by four clean, sound heads, the fine linen did not tear from their pulling, nor did those who pulled it grow weary. After this a famous man will come from the plain of lance-wielding horsemen, a pure, good-natured man, and through him God's faith will spread to all four quarters. One will be an old Zoroastrian priest who takes the sacred barsom twigs in hand and murmurs prayers. Another, the faith of Moses that you call Jewish, which says nothing but itself is worthy of praise. Another, the Greek faith of that righteous one, who brings justice into the king's heart. The fourth, this same pure-minded one comes and raises up the wise from their place. In this way the four of them, for protection's sake, pulled at that linen cloth. Know the linen to be God's faith, and the four pullers came to guard it. This one drags it that way, that one this way, and then they become enemies over religion. Next, the thirsty man who fled from sweet water while the fish drew that water toward him. A time will come when the pure man is despised once he has drunk the water of knowledge. He becomes like a fish diving to the sea, while the ill-natured rise to the stars. He keeps calling the thirsty to the water, yet no one answers him about his knowledge. They flee from that seeker of knowledge, and the pack of them opens their lips to slander him. Fifth, what you saw: a city with a workshop built inside it, full of eating and dealing, buying and selling, as if time had sewn shut their eyes. From blindness one could not see another; this one ignored that, that one ignored this. A time will come when things turn such that the wise become servants of the ignorant. In their eyes the learned man is worthless; the tree of wisdom bears no fruit for them. They become praisers of the ignorant man, offering their worship before him as if before God. The one who lies knows well that his flattery gains no light from such worship. Sixth, what you saw: a horse with two heads, and food had no way to pass into it. A time will come when people grow glad with possessions yet never find contentment. No poor man gains a share from him, no seeker of knowledge, no man of renown. They want no one but themselves and come to no one's aid. Seventh, the three jars you saw full of water, one of them empty to the brim, two always brimful of water, and the middle one dry and yielding nothing. After this a time will come when the poor grow so weak and despised that even if spring clouds fill with water, the sun will hide itself from the poor. The clouds will pour no rain on him, and the poor man's heart will be wounded by it. The rich give to one another, each smooth and sweet-tongued with the other. The poor man's lips stay dry, and he drags his day through into the night. Next, the cow so sound of body that sought milk from its own scrawny calf. When Saturn enters the sign of Libra, the world falls under the power of brute strength. The affairs of the sick and the poor grow feeble, and the healthy man demands goods from them. He never opens the mouth of his own treasure, nor does he ward off his own body's hardship with it. Next, the spring you saw dry of water, with waters sweet as musk all around it, no clear water gushed up from it, nor did those surrounding waters hurry to fill it. After this there will come a time when there is a ruler in the world who has no knowledge about him, and his dark soul is full of grief. Every hour he raises a new army, from which a famous leader is made. In the end neither army nor king remains, and a new figure of fresh custom comes to the fore. Now this present time is the age of Alexander, whose crown sits upon the brow of the great. When he comes, give him these four things, and I believe he will ask for nothing more. Keep him satisfied and he will pass on, for he seeks knowledge and possesses wisdom. When Kayd heard these words from Mehran, his old days were made fresh again. He came and kissed Mehran's head and eyes, then, comforted and victorious, returned rejoicing. When the king turned back from the wise man, the sages set out on the road with him.

When Alexander looked upon Iran, he understood that its crown and throne were now his. He marched his army over roads and trackless ground, driving his troops toward Kaid of India. Wherever Alexander came, the cities threw open their gates before him. No one in that land could stand against his men; his helmets rose past the star Venus. When he reached that great city, which mighty Kaid called Miladi, he set his army down in that country and spread his forces over all their soil. They summoned the scribe of the letters and seated him before Alexander. He dictated a letter to Kaid, like a lion roused and ready for the hunt. From noble Alexander the victorious, lord of the sword, the crown, and the royal belt. The letter began with praise, first of all for the one who has washed his heart clean with knowledge, who in every task chooses the path of least trouble when he wishes to profit from his treasure, who turns toward the pure God, placing in Him all his hope, his fear, and his awe. Let him know that we are the foundation of the throne, the shadow of the victorious ruler of the world. I have written you a letter that may bring light to your darkened soul. The moment the scribe reads it to you, do not delay it or turn it over in doubt. If night falls, do not wait for daylight; at once bend yourself to my command. But if you ignore these words, I will not let it pass: I will trample your head, your crown, and your throne underfoot.

When the letter reached Kaid of India, he received the king's messenger. He praised him generously and treated him kindly, seating him with honor beside himself. He told him: I am glad to obey his command; I will never turn away from my pledge to him. But it would not be right for me to arrive like this, unprepared, rushing in with head held high in pride. That would please neither the Creator of the world nor that king who rules the earth. At once he ordered the scribe to come; he called for a pen and for Chinese silk to write on. He quickly wrote an answer to that letter, adorning it until it seemed a garden of paradise. First he offered praise to the Maker, the Lord who grants victory and rules the ages. The Lord who is giving and just, the Lord of manliness, wisdom, and skill. Then he said: a devout man does not turn his head away from a renowned king. It would not be right for us to withhold anything from the master of army, crown, and sword. I have four things such as no one in the world possesses, whether seen openly or kept hidden. And after me no one will ever hold four such treasures anywhere on earth. When he commands, I will send them to him, and by them his heart and his faith will be renewed. After that, whenever the king orders, I will come and serve him like a devoted slave.

The messenger arrived swift as the wind, told what he had heard and delivered the letter. Alexander said to the messenger: Go back, return to that famous king. Tell him: What is that thing in the world that no one has seen, whether open or hidden, for people have already witnessed all that will ever be, and the sphere of creation will add nothing more? The messenger came before the king, crossing the road as fast as fire. He said to Kayd: These four things that no one in the world has ever possessed, the king wishes to know what they are, since a thing unseen is not therefore nonexistent. When Kayd heard this from the foreign envoy, he cleared the room and sat with his counselor. They seated the messenger before them and honored him warmly in every way. Then the king said to the messenger: I have a daughter kept in seclusion, so lovely that if the high sun saw her, its own face would darken before her radiance. Her hair is a lasso, black as pitch, and from her lips comes the scent of milk. The cypress bends low before her stature, and roses scatter when she speaks. Words cannot capture her face and beauty; the mind can only nurture the tale of her. When silent, her soul is pure modesty and nothing else; no one in this age has seen her like. She is of noble, commanding lineage and worships God, holding modesty and restraint in her hands. I also have a cup that you may fill, or pour fresh water into it, and if a man sits drinking with his companions for ten years, the wine in that cup never grows less. The cup keeps giving both wine and cool water; the wonder is that no amount of drinking depletes it. Third, I have a skilled physician who names the illness the moment he sees a single tear. If he stands beside the king for years, the world ruling monarch will never suffer from any ailment. The fourth I keep hidden from the assembly: a philosopher who lives close by me. He tells the king all that is to come, from the turning sun to the shining moon. The famous messenger turned back, his horse's hooves racing the wind. He came and told it all before Alexander, and the world king's heart bloomed like a flower. He said to him: If this account is true, these four things give the whole world its worth. If he sends these to me, my darkened soul will grow bright. I will not trample his land and country underfoot; for this goodness I will turn back to my place.

From among those Greeks he chose a handful of men, wise, learned, and harmless. Then the king wrote a letter, full of courtesy, grace, warmth, and ornament. It said: among my trusted, distinguished men, my most talented and renowned, wise, learned, modest, and sound in judgment, worldly, deeply knowledgeable, and able guides, I now send these to you; they will not resist your subtle wisdom. Show these matters to them, and let them settle the affair right there on the spot. When I receive a letter from my elders, the world-tested keepers of my secrets, saying that four things have passed before our eyes such as no one in the world has ever seen, then I will write a pleasing letter to Kaid, so that he may remain the king of India. The nine wise Greek men set out, hurrying from Alexander's court toward Kaid. When the ruler of India saw those chiefs, he questioned them at length and heard their answers. He welcomed them just as he should and gave them a fitting place to stay. The next day, when the sky turned golden and the sun drew its battle-sword of light, he adorned the princess, his daughter, though the moon has no need of adornment. He set a golden throne inside the chamber and arranged Chinese splendor all around it. She sat upon the throne, her face like the sun, more radiant in the heavens than Venus. The nine alert old men went forward, eloquent, well-spoken, and sharp of memory. The king sent them to the bride, in the name of Alexander, son of Philip. The elders looked upon the princess's face, her bracelet, throne, and seat all blazing with light. They stood there dazed and bewildered; the sight of her weakened the old men's legs. The nine wise elders stayed rooted in place, their tongues full of praise to God. Not one of them found a way to move on, nor could they take their eyes off her for a moment. When the sages lingered longer than expected, a messenger came and summoned them to the king. The ruler said to the Greeks: why did you take so long? They said: she is a human being, yet in beauty she holds a share of every star. A Greek said to him: O king, in no palace does anyone behold such a beauty. Now let each of us send a letter to the king about a single feature of this moon-like girl. Then the philosophers sat down together and took up paper, ink, and pen. Each sage wrote of what he had seen, until the paper vanished beneath the ink. From their side a rider set out, hurrying to Alexander at Milad. When the king of the world read their letters, he was left in wonder at their words. In each letter one man had described one of her features, yet only a little. The world-ruler wrote back to them: well done, well done; I have seen a joyful paradise. Now return with the four things, and seek nothing beyond this. When you give him my decree and my covenant, load up your baggage together with Kaid. From now on let no one harm him; from him I have found only justice in the world.

The messenger returned from that far land and came to the elders of Rome. When those wise priests saw the king's reply, and the rider who had come through so much hardship, they went from the palace hall to the king, into that famous royal court. The commander of India rejoiced, for he was freed from the threat of Alexander. Then they read the letter aloud, the message of that self-willed king. The elders chose a hundred Indians, wise, eloquent, and bright of soul. The king opened his effortless treasury and picked out armlets, crowns, and thrones. He selected uncut jewels and unstitched robes, whatever was most fitting to send. They loaded three hundred camels with cargo, robes and jewels worthy of a king. A hundred camels carried only gold coins, and a hundred more bore silver from the treasury. There was a precious litter of fresh aloe wood, woven over with gold and set with many gems. On ten elephants he placed a golden throne, and on one great elephant a saddle finer still. Faghestan wept tears of blood as she went, with the philosopher and the physician. A goblet in the hand of every noble, and all the chieftains drunk on the wine of the cup. When Faghestan came to the king's chamber, she wore a crown of dark musk upon her head. Like a pale rose against a purple bloom, at the sight of her even the weak grew glad. Tall as a slender cypress, her face a moon above; one could not gaze straight at such a moon. Two eyebrows like bows, two dark and languid eyes, the tips of her hair curled into ringlets. Her two eyes were like two narcissus flowers in paradise; you would say she was fashioned from grace itself. Alexander looked upon her stature, her hair and face, her head and feet. He said, 'Here indeed is the lamp of the world,' and quietly he offered praise. To the Just One who created the heavens and shaped such a stature and such a face. He commanded that all the wise men, all the priests of the army of Rome, come. They sat, and he took her in marriage by proper rite, in the way of Christ and a true union. He poured so many gold coins over her from the treasury that even the moon could scarcely find room to walk.

When the work on that cypress-like tomb was done, and its place set out as he had ordered, he then turned his attention to the learned man, wanting to see how wisdom rises up in battle. He sent a great bowl brimming with cow's butter to the mighty philosopher, saying: rub this into your limbs, your legs, your waist, your chest, your back, your neck. Rest, so you throw off your weariness, and fill my soul and mind with your knowledge. When the wise man looked at the butter, he said: this riddle cannot be hidden from me. He dropped a thousand needles into the bowl and sent it back to the king. The king of the world looked at the needles, then secretly summoned his blacksmiths. He ordered them to melt the iron down and forge from it a single ball. He sent it at once to the wise man, who examined it and worked the iron smooth. In no time, from that dark-colored iron he made a mirror, bright and free of rust. They brought it to Alexander at night, and no lip breathed a word of the secret. Alexander set the mirror under moisture and kept it there until it turned black and dull. He sent it back to his philosopher; the riddle of the iron had grown long. The sage polished the iron clear as water and sent it back again in haste, treated with a compound so that afterward, damp or not, it would not soon turn black and dull. Alexander looked, then called the man in, questioned him, and seated him below the throne. First he spoke of the bowl of butter, seeking out the famous man's meaning. The man of wisdom answered the king: the butter would sink into the limbs, and so, you were saying: among all the philosophers of the city, my own share of knowledge is the greatest. By way of reply, O king, I meant this: a wise man's heart, like that of the devout, counts every sinew and bone like a needle, and if a stone stands in its way, it splits it open. In answer the king said to the wise man: any heart that has turned black, amid feasting and war and the spilling of blood, forever grappling with the enemy, how can the subtle words of a wise man ever pass through a heart gone dark? The sage said: I told you these fine words of yours, your spirit, your heart, your alert judgment, your mind that grasps meaning finer than a hair; your heart is no darker than iron. You said: over all these years that have passed, my heart has filled with rust from all the bloodshed. How can this darkness be set right? Why do I twist my words in such confusion? I told you: with the knowledge of the heavens I will scour your heart clean, so all doubt leaves you. And once it turns clear as water in its hue, there is no need to press it hard again. The king was pleased by his fresh words, and his heart grew keener toward the man's cause. He ordered robes, silver, and gold, and the treasurer brought a bowl of jewels. They handed them to the wise man, and the sage said: I hold a jewel hidden within me, through which I find all I need, one that has no enemy, unlike wealth, which is a companion to the devil. At night its guards demand no wages; on any road I travel, I fear no thief. One needs wisdom, knowledge, and honesty, which pound crookedness down into ruin. My food and clothing from this world, seen or unseen from the king, are enough for me, for knowledge is my watchman through the night, and wisdom is the crown of my waking soul. Why should I rejoice in having more, and stand guard over such wealth? Order that this be taken back to its place; let wisdom be the guide of my soul. Alexander was left in wonder at him, and set aside all manner of thoughts. He said to him: from now on the Lord of sun and moon will not hold me to blame, for I embrace this counsel and advice of yours, and your words that bring true benefit.

He ordered the physician to come before him, so he could explain the illness once he had examined him. He asked the physician: what is the root of a sick man's suffering, that makes one weep over pain afterward? The physician told him: whoever eats too much, when he sits at the table, cannot judge his food. A healthy body does not overeat; great is the one who seeks good health. Now I will blend a remedy for you, gathering herbs from every direction. So that you stay healthy through it, and never have to reach for medicine again. It will increase your desires too, so that even when you eat much it does you no harm. You will keep your memory for fine words sharp, and it will build up the blood and marrow in your body. You will become master over your own body, and your heart will grow glad like a joyful spring. It will bring back the color to your face, and give you a clear mind for every task. Your hair will not scatter into gray; it will drive off aging from your life. Alexander said to him: I have never heard of this, nor seen such a thing done for any of the kings. If you carry out this fine remedy, you will be my guide in this world. I will value you with all my soul; you will be safe from any evil doubter's harm. He prepared robes of honor and rewards for him, and raised his head above the learned physicians. The famed physician went to the mountains, taking a group with him. His share of wisdom was great; he could tell poison from its antidote. He gathered many mountain herbs and threw away all that was useless. From them he chose the purest antidotes and mixed the medicine as was fitting. He cleansed the king's body with the mountain remedy and kept him healthy for years. It went so far that he slept little at night, mingling in joy with everyone. He was eager for the company of women, always seeking a soft resting place beside them. But the king began to waste away, paying no attention at all to his body. It happened that one day the physician came and read the signs of decline in his tears. He told him: from lying with women too much, a young man surely grows old before his time. I believe you went three nights without sleep; tell me the truth and speak. Alexander said: I am fine; my body suffers no weakness from any ailment. The wise sage of India was not satisfied with this in his heart. When dark night fell, he searched his writings and brought the exact remedy for the wasting. That night too Alexander slept alone, taking no moonlike beauty as his mate. At dawn the physician came in with the sunrise; he looked and saw the king's tears were dry. He threw the medicine away and sat down in delight, gladly taking a cup in his hand. He ordered a feast laid out, and called for a lute player and wine. The king said to him: why did you pour it out, when you had blended the remedy with such effort? He answered: the king of the world took no mate last night; through the dark night he slept alone. When you sleep alone, O sovereign, no medicine of mine is of any use to you. Alexander laughed and was gladdened by him, freed from worry and from pain. After that he cheered the wise man's heart, saying: may the world never be without India. The great men and the astrologers, you would say the whole flock had gone off to India. Then the physician came back to his own house, and all night long prepared his cure. When the bright lamp rose over the mountains and the plains and meadows glowed like the sea, Alexander came to the court, his lips full of laughter, his heart cleared of grief. The chamberlain saw the messenger, questioned him, and led him before the king. The king ordered a purse of gold coins, a black horse, and a golden bridle, and gave them to the wise physician, saying: may wisdom always be the companion of your pure judgment.

After that he ordered that the yellow cup be brought, filled with cold water. Everyone drank water from that golden cup, from dawn until the time for sleep. They drank the water with delight, yet its level never dropped from all that drinking. Then the king said to the philosopher: this knowledge should not be hidden from me. What makes the water in this cup increase? Is it astronomy, or some device of India? He answered: O king, do not treat this cup as something worthless. For it was made over many years, and much hardship was endured for it. Astronomers came from every land, from every place where a famous master lived, gathered before Kayd, who made this cup, tracking the white day and the deep blue night. They observed the nature of the stars, and spent countless such days on the work. Take your proof from the magnet: someone made it draw iron to itself. By its very nature this cup became a drawer of water, pulling sweet water down from the sky. When its level runs low it draws in water, though no human eye, however clear, can see it happen. The wise man's words pleased the king, and his explanations proved useful to him. Piran spoke thus to Milad: for the sake of justice I hold to my pact with Kayd. I will not break it, so it may last; one must stand firm before its terms. For I received these four things from him, and I seek nothing more beyond them. He loaded two hundred pack animals with treasure, and set a hundred jeweled crowns upon them. He buried in the mountain everything he had, gold coins and unblemished gems. When the treasures vanished into the mountain, no one saw the face of the one who hid them. All that treasure, along with the man who concealed it, no one in the world ever saw again. From the treasure hidden away in the mountains, he brought back with him only a keepsake.

From his birthplace he drove his army like the wind; his treasure went to Kannauj and stayed there. When he brought his army near Fur, he ordered a letter written, full of war and fury. From the great king Alexander son of Philip, kindler of fire, giver of blessings and greetings, to Fur the Indian, commander of India, high in fortune and marshal of the armies of Sind. He opened the letter with praise of God, who was and always will be in his place. Whoever God makes victorious, the country and crown and throne remain with him. But if he holds it cheap, he will be brought low, and the high sun will not shine on him. You have surely heard what the pure God has given us on this dark earth: victory and fortune and royal splendor, the diadem and the throne of kings. Nothing lasts; our day passes and another comes to enjoy what we had. I strive for a name that lasts, not for shame, within this narrow orbit of the moon and the compass. When this letter reaches you, clear away your dark thoughts and do no harm. Come down from your high throne and mount your horse; do not take counsel with priest or guide. Seek safety from us and do not scheme, for a schemer only drags the matter out. If you disobey my command for even a moment, choosing pride and defiance, I will bring a heavy army like fire, chosen heroes and bold warriors. When I come to battle with my horsemen, you will regret this delay. When these words on the matter were weighed and set down, the scribe finished the letter. They pressed Alexander's seal upon its face and sought out a fitting envoy. The king's messenger to Fur was one who spoke sometimes of war, sometimes of feasting and celebration. The envoy came up to the court, and they announced him to proud Fur. They called the worldly, experienced man before him and seated him on the throne close by.

When mighty Porus read that letter through, that great and famous king flared up in rage. At once he wrote a harsh reply, planting a tree of hatred in the garden of his heart. He opened the letter: In the name of the pure Lord, we should all live in awe and fear of Him. Let us not spill out so many empty words, for a man of hollow boasts is helpless in the end. You summon me before you and feel no shame; your mind holds no respect for good sense. If Philip wrote such things to Porus, then you take up his manner too, and stir the same clamor. Have you grown this bold from beating Darius, the man before whom the turning sky itself grew weary? When time wears down a royal line, they no longer heed a wise teacher's counsel. Now that treachery's war has come to you as a feast, you think all kings will fall as your prey. Such a preamble, such talk as this, never reached us from those ancient royal houses. I am Porus, born of the line of Porus, a line that never once bowed to any Caesar. When Darius wanted me as an ally, I did not find his heart and fortune sound. I kept sending him great war elephants, yet time gave him over as if it were a game, so that he was killed at the hand of a mere servant, and the fortune of the Persians was overturned. If evil came to him through a treacherous minister, why has your wits vanished from your own head? Do not be so reckless and bold in war, for with your death your words will fall silent. Soon you will see war elephants and an army that will block your path and scatter you to the wind. Your only aim is to rise above all others; what you hide within is the color of a demon. Do not sow only the seed of cruelty in the world; fear harm and the turning of ill fortune. With this letter we wished you well, and we adorned your painted heart with good advice.

When the reply reached Alexander, he at once picked chieftains from his army, men who were worthy and fit to lead, both seasoned by experience and young in vigor. He marched an army toward Porus of India, for no land was left on earth but that bounded by the sea. The army pressed forward in every direction, as if there were no other road on earth. Mountains, seas, and rough roads had killed the fire of war in the warriors' hearts. The whole army grew weary of the march, from that hard road and the fierce fighting. As soon as the army reached its camp, a group went to the king, and said: Caesar of Rome, commander of China, the earth cannot bear your army. Porus of India does not seek war with you, nor does the emperor of China, nor the lord of Sind. Why must the army be destroyed in this worthless border land and on such a road? We cannot find a single sound horse in the whole army fit to charge swiftly into battle. If the army wants to turn back from this war, neither rider nor foot soldier will find a way home. Until now we have been victorious, though everywhere the army was uneasy and doubtful. Now there are only mountains and seas ahead, and no one has grown tired of their own life. Do not turn our whole name into shame; no one goes to war against water and stone. Alexander grew grieved at their words, flared up in anger, and shattered their bargaining. He said: In the war against the Persians, no Roman came to any harm. It was Darius' own base servants who struck him down; not one of you even saw the dust of danger. I will pass along this road without you, and trample the heart of the dragon underfoot. Then you will see that once Porus is worn down, he will never rise again to war or to feast. God is my ally, and the army of Iran; I do not want the Romans as my well-wishers. When the king grew furious at this talk, the army turned toward apology, saying: We are all Caesar's servants to the last man; we tread no land but at his command. We will fight on, and when the horses are lost, the army will go into battle on foot. Even if they turn the sea's floor to earth with our blood and pile the slain into a high mound, no one will see our backs on the day of war, even if the heavens rained down a mountain of stone. We are all your servants, and the command is yours; if you choose to strike, our lives are yours. When Alexander heard their words, he laid the foundation for another kind of war. He chose thirty thousand of the Persians, all equipped with the tools of battle. Battle-tested chieftains set out, armored men and hardened warriors. Behind them rode the Roman horsemen, another core force, forty thousand strong. Behind them the horsemen of Egypt, the brave and dagger-wielding men of Egypt. Forty thousand swordsmen marched out, everyone fit for the work of war. From the kin of Darius and the Persians, everyone of royal Kayanid blood, from the Romans, the Egyptians, and the Berbers, worthy horsemen and soldiers, Caesar chose twelve thousand, all seekers of battle and all renowned, so that at his rear, from this host, the gate and plain would stand firm like a mountain. From among the astrologers and priests, worldly-wise and famous sages, he took sixty men with him, students of the fortunes of war. When Porus learned the army was coming, he chose his ground for the battlefield. The army swarmed across the plain, and the earth beneath the elephants rose like a mountain. They drew up the army over four miles, the warriors behind and the elephants in front. Scouts from India also went to the king of the world, and told him much about the war-elephant: that it could throw a horse from two miles off. No rider dares approach it, and once he does, there is no way back. Its trunk rises higher than the air; Saturn itself is its helper from the sky. They drew the elephant on paper and set it before the eyes of the world-seeker. He ordered the philosophers of Rome, and they made him an elephant out of wax. He said: Now let pure reason find some remedy for this. The seekers of knowledge sat together and searched, more or less, for a solution. He gathered an assembly of blacksmiths, everyone who was a master of the craft. From Romans, Egyptians, and Persians, the men numbered more than twelve hundred. They built a steed of iron, its rider of iron, and its saddle of iron too. They joined the seams with nails and copper, and made the rider and the horse's body gleam. They wheeled it before the king on a cart, its inside filled with black naphtha. Alexander saw it and was pleased; the wise man found it useful. He ordered that more than a thousand of these horses and riders be made of iron, of dappled grey, white, chestnut, and black; who has ever seen a king with an army of iron? He drove an army of iron onto carts, one that resembled nothing but real war-riders.

When Alexander drew near to Fur, each army saw the other from afar. A roar rose up and dust of battle from both sides; the warriors, hungry for combat, advanced. They set fire with naphtha to the horses and threw all of Fur's army into chaos. The black naphtha blazed up in flame, and the iron war machines began to move. When the elephants saw a way to flee the fire, they bolted from their place with the army behind them. A cry rose from the whole army; the wounds drove the elephants into a frenzy. When their trunks caught fire, the elephant drivers were left stunned. The entire Indian army turned back, and so did the mighty, high necked war elephants. Then Alexander, wary, galloped after the army like a raging wind, until the sky turned indigo in color, and there was no more room left for the army to fight. The world seeker, with his Roman troops together, made camp between two mountains. He sent scouts out on every road, keeping the army watchful against the enemy. When the shaft of the sun's crown appeared, the world turned white like crystal. A roar rose from the ox horn trumpets, the blast of the horn and the brass and bronze war drums. Army made ready for war against army, and they raised their lances up to the clouds. Alexander came between the two ranks, a Roman sword held in his hand. He sent a rider to Fur to summon him and to speak from a distance: That Alexander has come before the army and seeks a way to meet with you, to speak, and to hear what you say; if you speak justly, he will accept it. When Fur the Indian heard this, he set out and came swiftly to the front from the center. Alexander said to him: O renowned one, two armies have been shattered in this fight. Wild beasts are devouring men's brains, and horses' hooves trample over the bones. We are two men, both brave and young, eloquent, and two heroes with sense. The brave men of the army have all been killed, or if alive, have fled the battle. Why should the whole army end in slaughter, or in fleeing alive from the fight? Let us gird ourselves and fight, since a kingdom must be won by hand. Whichever of us fortune makes victorious, to him will remain this army, crown, and throne. When Fur heard the Roman's words, he took up his challenge as if it were a feast. He saw himself with a lion's strength, mounted on a steed like a fierce dragon, and Alexander a slim rider like a pen, lightly armed, on a grim, swift footed horse. Fur said to him: This is the custom and the way, that we contend one against the other without our armies. Each took a dagger in his hand, and they circled long between the two ranks. When Alexander saw that mad elephant of a man, like a mountain seated on a dragon, he was left amazed at the combat with him; his heart grew grieved and he gave up on his own life. As he still circled with him on the field, a great shout rose from behind Fur's army. Fur's heart filled with pain at that shout, and his heart, eyes, and ears turned toward it. Alexander, like the wind, came through the dust and struck a sharp blade at that lion of a man. He cut the sinews of his neck and shoulder, and his body tumbled from the saddle to the dust. The Roman army's cry rose to the heavens, and the roaring warriors advanced. Fur had a war drum made of lion's hide whose sound would rise beyond the clouds. The blast of the horn and the drumbeat rose up; the earth turned to iron, the air to ebony. In the same fashion the Indian warriors pressed forward, face to face in the crush. A shout came from the Romans: O friends, chief lords of the land of India, Fur the Indian's head lies in the dust, his elephant like body torn apart. For whom do you fight now, all these sword strokes, all this delay? Alexander is now to you what Fur was; from him you should seek both battle and feasting. The warriors of India went forth and with one voice came to agreement. They saw Fur's body covered in blood and dust, his chest and torso slashed by the sword. A cry of grief rose from the army, and they cast down their weapons of war. Full of pain they came to the emperor, full of wailing, with dust upon their heads. Alexander returned the warriors' arms and spoke to them kindly in every way. He said: One man of India has died; you must not surrender your hearts to grief. Now I will honor you all the more; I will strive to drive your sorrow away as well. I will give you all his treasure; his hardship is forbidden to my army. I will make all the Indians wealthy; I will strive to raise one to throne and crown. From there he mounted the throne of Fur, turning that day of mourning into a day of feasting. Such is the way of this passing world: it wants you to remain in it in suffering. Eat whatever you have, hold nothing back; why should your toil be left for someone else? The emperor stayed on the throne two months and gave away all its treasure to the army. There was a noble man named Surg, a great hero from India. He gave the kingship's throne to him and said: Never hoard away gold. Give and eat whatever comes your way; take no pride in this passing crown and throne, for one moment it is Alexander's, the next it is Fur's; now grief and rage, now joy and feasting. He gave silver and gold to his army and adorned the warriors of his realm.

When the army had all it needed and wanted for nothing, he set out, and not much time went by. At dawn the war drums rang out; the sky turned the colors of a rooster's eye. So many spears and silken banners rose that the stars themselves seemed red, gold, and violet. Alexander came toward the sanctuary; some rejoiced at him, others were downcast. With the wail of horns and the beat of drums he went to the house that Abraham, son of Azar, had raised. For he had built the house of the sanctuary, pouring his hardships and toil into it. God called it the Sacred House; through it every path to God was made complete. For its purity God named it his own home. Praise to the One who summons you before Him. The God of the world has no need of anything, no place for food, desire, rest, or comfort. It is a place of worship, and while it stands, within it people remember God. Then Alexander went toward Qadisiyya, the world-conqueror pressing on to Persian Jahrom. When news reached Nasr, son of Qutayb, through whom Mecca held its glory and grace, he rode out to meet him with battle-hardened chiefs, brave horsemen bearing spears. At that very moment a rider came galloping from Mecca to Alexander, saying: This great one who has come along the road seeks no crown, no treasure, no army. He is the fortunate descendant of Ishmael, the son of Abraham the prophet. When Nasr came before him, Alexander welcomed him and gave him a place of honor. Nasr grew glad and spoke of his lineage, opening all his hidden secrets. Alexander answered him this way: O pure-hearted, truthful, noble man, who among this family now is the leader, other than you, so worthy and fortunate? Nasr said to him: O king who rules the world, Khuza'a is the chief in this place. When Ishmael passed from this world, Qahtan the conqueror came out of the desert, with a vast army of swordsmen, and unjustly seized the land of Yemen. Many innocent people were killed; dark days fell upon this family. This did not please the Maker of the world; the will of the high heavens turned against him. When he turned to dust, Khuza'a rose, but was pure only in suffering and injustice. From the sanctuary to Yemen everything is in his hand; even the fishery in the Egyptian sea is his. He has turned from the path and knows no justice; not one thought of God is in his heart. He holds a whole world clenched in his fist, and the line of Ishmael is drenched in blood by him. Alexander heard these words from Nasr, and every man he found of Khuza'a's stock, even the children, he left no breath of life within them; no one of that seed remained in the world. He wrested Hijaz and Yemen from injustice, through wisdom and men who wield the sword. He raised up the line of Ishmael, everyone who was worthy of leadership. He entered the Sacred House on foot, and the people of Ishmael rejoiced in him. For every step Caesar took along that road, the king's treasurer scattered gold coins.

When he returned and reached the palace gate, he gave a good sum of gold coins to Nasr. The one who had been poor became rich, and even so, what he ate came from his own labor. From there he led his glad army onward and arrived at Jeddah with little delay. He ordered his troops that everyone should build many ships and boats. The conqueror, with an army seeking its path, set his face from Jeddah toward Egypt. The king in Egypt was Qaytun, whose army was greater than one could guess. When he heard that the victorious conqueror had come by the sacred road with force and fire, he went out to greet him with a great army, bringing bags of coin, slaves, a crown, and a throne. Alexander was glad to see him, and it was said that his enemy turned to wind and vanished. The king stayed a full year in Egypt, so that both king and army could rest. There was a woman ruling in Andalusia, wise and with a countless army. The generous world seeker was Qaydafa, who through her excellence had gained fortune and gain. From among her troops she sought a horseman who was a painter, one who could draw a likeness exactly right. She told him: go to Alexander, but do not let any word of this land or of us slip out. Look closely, just as he truly is, and set to work until your hand achieves it. From his coloring, his face, and his stature, bring back a portrait from his head to his feet. The painter listened, then mounted and rode off, bound to fulfill his sovereign's command. He came from Andalusia to Egypt swiftly, to the honored Caesar Alexander. Whether he saw him on the throne or in the saddle, he brought out paper and Chinese silk. He painted Alexander's image exactly as it was, then quickly departed from that place. When Qaydafa saw Alexander's face, she grew sad, hid her feelings, and fell silent. Alexander asked Qaytun and said: who on earth is a match for Qaydafa? Qaytun replied: O king, there is no ruler in the world like her. No one knows the count of her army, unless one searches through many a ledger. In treasure, greatness, and worthiness, in calm composure and in capability, in sound judgment and in fine, well-meaning speech, you will find no one in the world like her. She has built a city of stone that not even a leopard's claw could scratch. Its height is four leagues of land, and its breadth is by the same measure. If you ask of her treasure, it has no limit, and the tales of her are ever fresh in the world.

When Alexander heard the report brought back, he ordered the scribe to come before him. Then they wrote a letter on silk, from Alexander the lion-slayer, conqueror of cities. It was addressed to the shrewd Qaydafeh, whose name stood high among the great. First, praise to the Lord of love, who lights the moon and turns the sky. The generous Lord of justice and truth, who grants abundance to those who deserve it. We did not come at you harshly for war; instead we lean toward friendship with you. When this letter reaches you, your clouded judgment will grow bright. You will send tribute and tax at our command, knowing you have no power to stand against us. Be wise and look ahead; show your strength and your pure faith. But if you try to resist in any way, you will see nothing but the turning of fate against you. If you measure yourself by Darius and Porus, you need no distant teacher to learn the lesson. When the ink of the heading had dried in the wind, they sealed it over with musk. A swift camel set out on the road, sent by the command of that famous king. When Qaydafeh read his letter, she was left amazed at his words. In reply, she first spread her praise for the just God who spread out the earth. He made you victorious over Porus of India, over Darius, and over the famed lords of Sind. You set me on the same level as men like these, and place a turquoise crown upon my head. My own glory and greatness are greater than that, and so is my army and my royal treasure. As if I would bend to the command of emperors, or tremble and cower at their threats. My army numbers in the thousands upon thousands, and at the head of each stands a king. If I summoned my vassals from every side, there would be no room left on this land to stand. Each chieftain would bring a treasure before me, coming from this region with an army. Why do you let your tongue run on so wildly? Because of Darius, you have become a master of boasting. She set a golden seal upon that letter and sped a swift camel off like the wind.

When Alexander read that letter, he sounded the brass trumpets and set his army moving. For a whole month he marched on the road, until he reached that king's borders with his troops. There was a king named Faryan, rich in army, treasure, and every pleasure. He held a walled city equipped for war; even a leopard could not have breached his tent. Alexander brought his army and laid siege to that fortress, where riders patrolled along its ramparts. Alexander ordered the chief engineer to bring up the war engines and catapults. Within a week he took the high fortress, and his noble army entered the city. When Alexander came into the city, he commanded that no one's blood be shed. There was a son of Qaydafa who was a son in law, and in this city Faryan was glad of him. Faryan had given him his precious daughter, and through this Qaydafa's crown rose high in honor. The son in law was named Qaydarosh; to him Faryan had given his heart, his eyes, and his ears. There was a man named Shahrgir, and in his grip both wife and husband had been taken captive. Alexander learned who that man was and sought a way to resolve the matter. He ordered his vizier to come before him, and gave him command, the crown, and the throne for a plan. The wise man's name was Bitqun, a shrewd counselor and a man of broad ambition. He said to him: a bride is coming before you; I will call you Alexander, son of Philip. Sit in the manner and custom of kings, and when I come before you I will stand with a belt at my waist. Command that the fierce war executioner strike Qaydarosh's head from his shoulders. I will come before you as a pleader and show you great humility. Arrange a private audience with no crowd, so that when I press my plea, you will grant him to me. That minister became a partner to pain; he did not know what secret lay hidden in this. Then the king of the world said to him: this matter must remain hidden. Call me before you as though I were an envoy, and bring up some of Qaydafa's words. Send me off gladly with ten riders, saying: go, deliver the letter quickly and bring back the answer. Bitqun said to him: I will do just so, and by your command I will work this ruse. At dawn the sun drew its dagger, and the dark night vanished in fear. Bitqun sat upon the throne, his face full of shame and his heart weeping tears of blood. Alexander stood before him with a belt, the door of scheming open and the real door shut. When Shahrgir brought forward that son of Qaydafa, weeping and held captive, and his wife likewise, with all her perfume and beauty, the young man gripping her tight in his hands, Bitqun quickly asked: who is this man, that he must weep so much from grief? He answered thus: come to your senses, I am Qaydarosh, the son of Qaydafa. I have no other wife but this daughter of Faryan, whom I keep hidden behind my curtains. My intent was to take her to my own home and cherish her like my own life. Now I am a captive in Shahrgir's hands, my soul wounded by fate and my body by the arrow. When Bitqun heard these words from him, his head filled with pain and his heart with blood. Then, in fury, he said to the executioner: both of these must be buried in the earth. Just so, still in chains along with his wife, strike his neck with an Indian sword. Alexander came forward and kissed the ground, and said to him: O king of imperial blood, if you grant me their lives and spare their blood, I will be exalted in every gathering. Why take the heads of the innocent in vengeance? The Creator of the world would not approve of us. The clear minded Bitqun said to him: you have spared these two from death. Quickly Bitqun said to Qaydarosh: you carried your head, which had nearly left your shoulders. Now I will send him along with you, to explain everything, in full, to your mother. If she sends tribute and taxes, it will be well; no one's skin will be torn in this fighting. Look at this pure minister of mine, who tells him: war or feast is all one to me. Do that good to him which he has done to you; the heart of a noble man turns toward repaying kindness. When you receive this answering letter from the king, send him back on his road with kindness. Qaydarosh said to Bitqun thus: I will not take from him my heart, my eyes, or my ears. How could I not hold him dear as my own life, since through him I found a wife and a sweet soul?

The world-seeker chose ten renowned men, worthy Romans as the task required, men who were all of one voice with him and kept every secret he entrusted. He told them: on the road ahead, call me by no name except Bitqun. Qaydrush rode in front as their guide, with Alexander watching and listening close. The chief drove the animals swift as fire, until they reached a mountain of crystal stone. On it grew fruit trees of every kind, and abundant grass covered its slopes. They hurried on this way along the road toward the land and realm where the king lived. When Candace learned that Qaydrush was near, she opened her ears wide for news of her son. She went out to meet him with a great army, all famous nobles born under lucky stars. And when the son saw his mother, he dismounted and offered his praise. Candace ordered him to mount again, and rode along holding his hand in hers. Qaydrush told her all he had seen and heard, his face pale as he spoke. How much suffering had struck the city of Faryan: no crown, no throne, no army, no treasure left. As for me, I came back only with my bride, spared by Alexander son of Philip. Otherwise he had ordered my neck struck off and my body burned in the fire. So now do everything kindly; do not break a single word he asks of you. When Candace heard this from her son, her heart was turned upside down with grief. She called the envoy in from the hall and seated him on the throne of the great. She questioned him much and treated him well, and set aside a fine lodging for him. She sent every kind of food, as well as clothing and furnishings. That night passed, and early in the morning he came to pay respects at the king's court. The attendants drew back the curtain and let him ride his horse in from the gate. He saw Candace on a throne of ivory, a crown of ruby and turquoise on her head, dressed in a robe of Chinese gold brocade, with many servants standing around her. The queen's face shone bright as the sun, and the pillars of her seat were of crystal. Over her a canopy of onyx set in gold, woven through with grains of jewels. Servants with collars and earrings stood on their feet in that golden garden of a hall. Alexander stood amazed at all this and silently spoke God's name again and again. The great one saw a throne room such that neither Rome nor Iran seemed anything beside it. He came before the queen and kissed the ground, as a flatterer would do. Candace received him and treated him well, questioned him much and seated him. When the shining sun had turned past its dome and the hour for the stranger's audience passed, she ordered the table set, and called for the lute-player and for wine. They set out in one room tables of teak, all figured in gold with ivory studs. Many dishes were brought, and once the food was eaten, wine was served. They set out trays of gold and silver, and the first toast was raised to Candace. As she drank, the noble queen looked more and more toward Alexander. She said to her treasurer: that bright silk with the pleasing portrait painted on it, bring it before me just as it is; go gently, do not touch it roughly. The treasurer brought it and set it down; when she looked, she studied it beyond measure. Candace knew that this was Caesar himself, the chief over that famous army, who had made himself out to be a mere envoy and had come boldly into this gathering. She said to him: you man of broad ambition, tell me, what message did Alexander give you? He answered: the king of the world spoke to me among his nobles, saying, tell pure-hearted Candace: seek nothing in this world but honesty. See that you do not turn from my command; keep watch over my covenant. But if you harbor any resistance in your heart, I will bring against you a heart-crushing army. I have found the signs of your excellence, so I was in no hurry to come to war. Wisdom and modesty are yours; the world is safe under your subtle judgment. Now if you do not refuse to pay tribute and tax, you will know you have no strength to match us. You will see nothing but goodness and fairness, as long as you turn from crookedness and fault. Candace grew angry when she heard this, but saw no remedy except silence. She said to him: now go back to your lodging and rest among pleasant company. When you come tomorrow, I will give my answer and make a fortunate plan for your return. Alexander went back to his quarters and all night worked out his own scheme. When the bright lamp lifted its head over the mountain and plain and meadow glowed like fine silk, Alexander came to that court, his lips full of smiles, his heart wrecked with worry. The chamberlain saw the envoy, questioned him, and led him in to the ruler. Her whole palace was full of strangers; one chamber was a hall of crystal, carved over with carnelian and chrysolite, and royal jewels set within. Its floor was all sandalwood and aloewood, its pillars of onyx and turquoise. Alexander was left stunned by that place, by its splendor, its throne, and its grandeur. He said to himself: what a place to dwell in; no worshipper of God has ever seen its like. He came gracefully near the queen, and they set out a golden seat for him. Candace said to him: Bitqun, why do you stand dazed there among the onyx? Surely such things do not exist in Rome, since you are bewildered by this modest realm. Alexander said to her: my queen, do not hold this house as something small. It rises higher than the halls of kings, for your hall is a mine of jewels. Candace laughed at what he did, her heart delighted by his smooth trade of words. Then she sent her own people out and seated the envoy close beside her. She said to him: son of Philip, yours are both feast and battle, favor and command. At her words Alexander went pale, his spirit full of pain, his cheeks like lapis. He said to her: wise and noble lady, such speech is not fitting from you. I am Bitqun, a steward of the world; do not call me such a breed as Philip's line. I thank God my Creator that no famous chief was with me here, who might carry word to the king of the world and quickly empty my body of its life. Candace said to him: give up this dispute and free your lips, for you are Alexander. If you would only see your own face with your eyes, rest from your scheming and show no anger. She brought out the silk and laid it before him, with the pleasing portrait painted on it, so lifelike that if the image could move, it would be none other than King Alexander. When Alexander saw it he bit his lip, and the day went dark for him like a black night. He said to himself: may no one in the world ever be without a dagger hidden at their side. Candace said to him: even if your dagger were slung across your chest before me, you would have neither strength nor sharp sword, no room to fight and no way to flee. Alexander said to her: whoever among the great sets out to win the world by valor must not shrink from the path of danger, for a coward never rises high in this world. If my weapons were with me now, this whole house would become a sea of blood. I would kill you, even if I had to tear open my own heart before my enemy.

Qaydafa laughed at what he had done, at his boldness and his sharp words. She said to him: Lion-hearted king, do not let courage make you reckless and proud. It was not your glory that killed Porus of India, nor Darius, son of Darab, nor the heroes of Sind. The day of the world's great ones turned away; fate simply gave you a larger share. Your courage made you this bold, so that you became lord over time and earth. Know that all good things come from God, and thank Him as long as you live. You say with your wisdom, 'The world is mine,' yet I do not find your words to be true. What is your wisdom worth when you walk straight into the dragon's mouth like this? You sew your own shroud in the days of your youth by sending yourself as a mere envoy. It is not my custom to shed blood, nor to clash foolishly with a great man. When a king is powerful in a matter, he shows mercy through justice and wisdom. Know this: whoever spills a king's blood will see nothing but fire in the end. So rest safe and go in joy; once you leave, set out on a fresh course. After this you will not pass as a messenger; even the dust will know you are Alexander. I know no rebel lord whose likeness I do not hold. Your very image is painted here on silk, kept in the care of a record-keeper. The astrologer's judgment ran the same for you: in fear there lies your safety. When the counseling king becomes forgiving, the age itself tells it to man and woman. While you are here I will call you Bitqun, and by that name I will seat you apart, so that no one learns your secret, nor hears your name and your voice. I will send you safely back to your place; you must be a lord of sound judgment. On the promise that never toward my son, my city, my kin, and those bound to me, will you be ill-intentioned or plot harm, and that you will call me nothing but an equal in this land. Alexander heard these words and rejoiced; he was freed from dread and from being killed. He swore by the sustaining Creator, by the Messiah, and by the dust of the battlefield, that toward your realm and household and your children, and the nobles who are your kin, I will act only with goodness and honesty, and think nothing of crookedness or wrong. When the oath was sworn, Qaydafa said: This advice I must not hide from you. Know that my son Taynush pays little heed to my wisdom and my counsel. Porus's son-in-law is a hollow, boastful man; he must not learn of this from anyone, near or far, that you and Alexander share one skin, that in your heart you are a friend to him, for he seeks vengeance for Porus, and in his fury would bring heaven down upon the earth. Now, happy and safe, walk into your palace, and speak no word of the world's sorrows.

Alexander arrived with a heart as steady as a mountain, sent by the king who thirsts for knowledge. He showed no frown or unease before Queen Qaydafa, and he never let his heart give up on its great desire. He stayed through that night, and early the next morning he came down from the hall to see the queen. The ruler sat in a chamber like an elephant's palace, with all her people gathered in ranks around her. The head of the room was carved from onyx and gold, with many kinds of gems set within the gold. Before her stood attendants scented with musk, and her two worthy sons stood at her side. Tinush the horse-thrower and Qaydarush, both listening closely to Qaydafa's words. The younger son said to his mother: You are a king of good fortune and justice. Act in such a way that Bitqun leaves your court happy and content, and with a guide to see him home. Let no one harm him on the road, and let no one count him among our enemies. For it was he who gave my pure soul back to life; I am certain it is he who keeps my spirit bright. His mother said: I will do just that, and I will raise his standing even higher. The renowned queen said to Alexander: Now bring what is hidden into the open. What do you want, and what is Alexander's purpose? What message do you carry, and whose envoy are you? Alexander said to her: O exalted one, my stay with you has stretched long. He told me: Go and demand tribute from her land, and if you linger too long I will bring an army. I will leave her no country, no crown, no throne, no strength, no kingship, no treasure, and no fortune.