In those days was the death of Failakús—
A cause of trouble for a while in Rúm;
Then sat Sikandar on his grandsire's throne,
Sought virtue, and restrained the hands of evil,
For in those days there lived one known to fame
In Rúm, a joy to all that land and hight
The erudite Arastálís*

—a man
Of wisdom, vigilance, and influence.
That sage adviser came before Sikandar,
And, as he took his place, held forth, and said:—
“O ruler happy in thy full desire!
By acting as thou dost thou wilt abate
Thy fame because the royal throne hath looked
On many such as thee but will not rest

With any. When thou sayest: ‘I have gained
Mine end and need not any to direct me,’
Know that there is no greater fool than thou,
If thou wilt hearken not the rede of sages.
We are from dust, are destined from our birth
To go back thither, and must needs submit;
But thou wilt live in fame if thou art good,
And be successful on the throne of kings,
While from ill-doing thou wilt reap but ill,
And never pass a night of peaceful sleep.
Well-doing is a monarch's adjutant,
And none hath won good days by doing wrong.”
Whenas Sikandar heard he was well pleased,
And used to court the speaker's company,
Did every act according as he bade
In fight and festival, in war and strife,
Bestowed new favours on him every day,
And, when he came, would seat him on the throne.
It chanced one day that an ambassador,
A persian shrewd of heart and eloquent,
Came from Dárá to Rúm to ask for tribute
Due from that prosperous land. He came and spake
About it to Sikandar who was irked
By reason of that tribute and old tax,
And said to him: “Go say before Dárá:—
‘Our tribute now hath lost its hue and scent,
For since the bird that laid the golden eggs
Is dead the tribute is no more in force.’”
The ambassador, on hearing such an answer,
Was frighted and was seen no more in Rúm.
Sikandar summoned all his troops and told
Of what had passed. He said: “The well-disposed
'Scape not the revolutions of the sky.
I have to tread the world's face and account
Much weal and woe, so now ye must make ready,
And banish home and country from your hearts.”
He oped his grandsire's hoards and bade his troops
Prepare. At dawn the war-cry rose from Rúm
Both from the city and the young king's court.
The standard that was carried after him
Was red inscribed upon a turquoise ground.
He started on his march by way of Misr,
With troops and trumpets, drums and warriors.
The king of Misr with hostile troops forthwith
Went to encounter him. The armies met
And fought for seven days, but on the eighth
Misr was o'erthrown, Sikandar cut them off,
And at a blow enough were taken captive
To paralyse the taker's hands. Of maces,
Steeds and horse-armour, jupons, Indian daggers,
Of golden girdles, silvern harness, swords
Of Misr with golden scabbards, of brocade
And of dínárs, he compassed such a store
That e'en the beasts of burden could not bear it,
While multitudes of noble warriors,
Of chiefs and cavaliers, came in for quarter.
Sikandar thence made ready to invade
Írán, took lions' hearts and warriors' hands.
Now when Dárá had heard: “A host hath marched
From Rúm and reached our borders and confines,”
So great an army issued from Istakhr,
That e'en the wind was hampered by the spears.
He purposed to advance on Rúm from Párs,
And fire the peopled parts. When he had led
His troops more many than the blades of grass
To the Farát he drew up on the shore,
And none could see the stream for armature.