The Sultán said, “My beard is thin; if I allow it to grow, it will look ill, and men will scoff at me, and will be thus guilty of sin. I do not desire that Musulmáns should commit sin, especially when I am the cause.” Hájí 'Abdu-l Waháb answered, “I will pass my hand over your face, and if it please God, your beard will become a fine one; all other beards will salute it, and who will dare laugh at it then?” Sultán Sikandar hung down his head, and made no reply. The Hájí said, “O King of the Universe, I speak what is right in your presence, why do you not answer?” The Sultán said, “When my pír, or spiritual guide, orders me, I will wear one.” “Who is your pír?” returned the Hájí. “He is a man,” said the Sultán, “who occasionally comes to see me. He resides in the jungle of Manga Sassú, in the pargana of Jalesar.” Hájí 'Abdu-l Waháb said: “Does he wear a beard?” “No,” replied the King. The Hájí said, “When I see him I will convince him that he is in the wrong; you pay speedy attention to this.” The Sultán gave no answer, but turned away from the Hájí, and closed his lips with the seal of silence. The Hájí arose and left the assembly, repeating the salám alaik. The Sultán said, after the Hájí's departure, “The Shaikh mistakes his position in reading me lectures; and presumes upon the favour which I show him. He thinks that the people who present themselves before him and kiss his feet do it of themselves. He cannot understand this, that were I to cause any one of my slaves to sit down on a litter, and command all the nobles to place it on their shoulders, they would do so without hesitation.” Shaikh 'Abdu-l Jalál, the son of Saiyid Ahmad, was present when this occurred, and he reported this speech to Hájí 'Abdu-l Waháb. The Hájí placed his hand on 'Abdu-l Jalál's shoulder, and said, “This speech of his, in which he compares me, a descendant of the prophet, with one of his own slaves, will one day, please God, stick in his throat, rest assured of that.”* The Hájí left Ágra and went to Dehlí, without taking leave of the King; and a short time after his departure, Sultán Sikandar was taken ill with a disease of the throat, which daily became worse.
The Sultán perceived the alteration in his health, and asked Shaikh Ládan Dánishmand, who acted as his imám, what was the expiation of these sins—the omission of prayer and fasting, the shaving the beard, drinking wine, and cutting off men's noses and ears, and requested him to write his opinion and send it. Shaikh Ládan wrote it in detail, and sent it to the Sultán, who commanded the historiographers (wáki'-navís) to search in the histories of his reign, from its very commencement, for any record of the commission by His Majesty of any sins of these descriptions, and after taking an account of their frequency and degree, to draw up, with Shaikh Ládan's assistance, a careful estimate as to how much gold he was required to give in order to make proper atonement for these transgressions. Shaikh Ládan made the necessary researches, and informed the Sultán, who ordered the treasurer to give to the 'Ulamá such gold as did not belong to the public treasury. The 'Ulamá were astonished, and said to the treasurer, “How was this sum, kept apart from the public treasury, acquired?” The treasurer replied, “The neighbouring sovereigns were in the habit of sending rarities to the Sultán, and some of the nobles used to send presents along with their petitions. An account of these was made yearly, and presented to the King, who directed that the sums realized by them should be kept separate, in order that the money might be made use of at his pleasure. This day he has commanded these reserved funds to be expended.” Upon hearing this, the whole of the 'Ulamá began to praise and extol his virtues.*
Sultán Sikandar became weaker every day, but his zeal stimulated him to continue the discharge of the duties of the empire. However, by degrees, his illness arrived at such a pitch that his throat would allow him neither to swallow food nor to drink, and the passage of his breath was stopped. His death took place on Sunday, the 7th Zí-l ka'da, A.H. 923* (November, 1517 A.D.).
“Sikandar, King of the seven climes, has ceased to exist,
And no one resembling Sikandar has survived him.”
The length of the reign of that illustrious monarch was twenty-eight years and five months.
“The world belongs to God, who is One and Almighty.”
There were many of the chiefs of Sultán Sikandar whose history is worthy of being written, such as Asad Khán, the son of Mubárak Khán Yúsuf-khail, who was endowed with the most exalted notions of generosity. Whenever the cloth was spread before him at meal-times he first filled large china plates with food, on which he placed great quantities of bread and pickles of every description, and on them a betel leaf, and on that a gold mohur, all of which he gave to beggars, and then began to eat himself. He addressed every one as a noble, even if he happened to be a servant of his own; if he chanced to be a stranger, he presented him with a lac of tankas. One day a person related to the Khán that Shaikh Muhammad Farmulí, the vakíl, from the badness of the times, had been unable to marry his daughter. Asad Khán sent for him into his presence, and ordered a young slave to fill both his hands with gold pieces, and cast them into the Shaikh's skirt. The slave did as the Khán commanded, and then took him to the díwán, to see how much money he had received. After counting it, they found it amounted to 70,000 tankas. This was related to Asad Khán, and he commanded the same slave to give him as many more gold pieces as were required to make up the sum to 100,000 tankas.*
One day, whilst the Khán was hunting, a person brought curdled milk to him, prepared after the fashion of the villagers. Asad Khán ordered the dish in which he had brought it to be filled with gold pieces. One day a woman, a dweller of Chanderí, brought some ním leaves on a plate to Asad Khán, who saw that they were very green and fresh, and said to the woman, “What is the good of bringing ním leaves?” She replied, “I have cooked them as vegetables in such a manner that while they have not changed their appearance, they have all the flavour the best garden products can boast of.” Asad Khán directed one of his companions to taste a small quantity, who perceived it was so tasty and well-cooked that it no longer retained the least flavour of ním leaves. Her plate was likewise filled with gold pieces, and returned to her.*
One day, some horses were being shown to Asad Khán. Sadr Khán Sarsí, who was one of the chief nobles and his intimate friend, was seated. When the first horse was shown to the Khán, he asked Sadr Khán what sort of an animal it was. Sadr Khán expatiated upon the excellences of the horse, and praised it exceedingly. Asad Khán said, “Give this horse in charge to Sadr Khán's men.” A second horse came, and he again asked Sadr Khán what he thought of it. Sadr Khán again spoke well of the horse. Asad Khán said, “Give this horse also to Sadr Khán's people.” He gave no less than eight horses to Sadr Khán in this way. When the ninth arrived, he again said to Sadr Khán, “What kind of a horse is this?” Sadr Khán remained silent. On Asad Khán's inquiring the reason, Sadr Khán replied, “Your generosity has exceeded all bounds.” Asad Khán smiled, and asked the man who was the stable-accountant, “How many horses had that day been brought for inspection?” He answered, “One hundred and eight are present.” The Khán said to Sadr Khán, “Has taking one horse at a time distressed you? Lo! I have given all the horses brought for me to look at to Sadr Khán.” In this manner he actually presented 108 horses on one day to the same individual.*