§ 20 How Sikandar went as an Ambassador to Kaidáfa and was recognised by her

Sikandar chose ten Rúmans, men of name,
All confidants who would respect his secret,
And said to them: “While we are on our way
Call me Naitkún.”

Kaidrúsh led on; Sikandar,

Put trust in him. The chieftains spurred like fire,
And reached a mountain where the rocks were crystal.
Upon it there were fruit-trees of all sorts,
And on the top they noticed grass in plenty.
They left this mountain and kept speeding on
Toward the country where Kaidáfa dwelt,
Who cagerly heard tidings of Kaidrúsh,
And went to meet him with a mighty host,
All men of name and favoured by the stars.
He, when he saw his mother, lighted down,
And did obeisance, but she bade him mount.
They rode, hand clasped in hand. Kaidrúsh described
All that he had gone through and paled in telling
His troubles in the city of Faryán,
Where he had lost crown, army, throne, and treasure.
The man that cometh with me,” he proceeded,
“Preserved me and my consort from Sikandar,
Who else had given orders to behead me,
And burn my corpse in fire. Do what he wisheth
With right good will and thwart not his request.”

C. 1317
Now when Kaidáfa heard her son's account
Her heart was overset by that affliction.
She summoned from the palace to her presence
The envoy, placed him in the nobles' seat,
Gave him much greeting and a kindly welcome,
Assigned to him a splendid residence,
And sent all kinds of provand, robes, and carpets.
He tarried there that night and at the dawn
Went to the court to offer his respects.
The attendants raised the curtain and allowed him
To enter through the portal on his steed.
When he beheld Kaidáfa on her throne
Of ivory, crowned with a crown of gems
And turquoise, and arrayed in robes of Chín
Inwrought with gold, the attendance of her servants,
Her face bright as the sun, her throne supported
By crystal feet, and o'er her robe a net
Of onyx of Yaman on golden thread,
Impleached with many a gem, and slaves, with torques
And earrings, standing in that rosary*


All arabesqued with gold, he stood astound,
Oft times invoking to himself God's name.
To Cæsar, gazing on that court, Írán
And Rúm seemed even as nothing, and he kissed
The ground like other courtiers in her presence.
Kaidáfa gazed on him, received him well,
Much questioned him, and made him sit. Now when
Bright Sol set, and the audience-time for strangers
Had passed, she gave command to deck the palace
And call attendants, and for harp and wine.
They ranged in one hall tables made of teak
With gold stars and designs in ivory,
Meats were provided past all reckoning,
Wine was brought forth and, when the eating ceased,
And gold and silver cups were handed round,
The company drank first Kaidáfa's health.
That noble queen gazed often at Sikandar
Amid the revel till at length she bade
The keeper of her treasures: “Bring to me
The lustrous silk with that delightful portrait,
Just as it is, and handle it with care.”
He brought it to the queen, who scanned it much
And, having scrutinised Sikandar's face,
Found the presentment just, so that she knew:—
“'Tis Cæsar, chief of yon famed army! He
Hath made himself his own ambassador,
And boldly reached this court. Imperious sir!”
She said to him, “come give Sikandar's message.”

C. 1318
He thus replied: “The monarch of the world
Thus charged me in the presence of his nobles
To say to pure Kaidáfa: ‘Here below
Ensue naught but the right. See that thou shun not
My bidding but observe shrewd fealty,
For if in aught thou art perverse in heart
I will lead forth a host heart-shattering,
Rob all thine army of the breath of life,
And give up all thy kingdom to the flames.
I had some intimation of thy virtues,
And therefore was not instant to assail thee,
For thou possessest modesty and wisdom;
Thy shrewd rede is the world's security.
Thou knowest that if thou refusest tribute
Thou canst withstand me not; but thou shalt have
Naught that is not both fair and just if thou
Wilt turn from falsehood and from fraud.’”

Kaidáfa

Was wroth thereat but saw no salve but silence,
And said to him: “Return to thine abode,
And for the present rest there with thy friends.
To-morrow when thou comest we will answer,
And take fair order for thy homeward way.”
Thereat Sikandar went back to his lodging,
And thought all night how to secure himself.
Now when the bright Lamp rose above the mountains,
And plain and upland glittered like brocade,
He went to court again with smiling lips,
But heart o'ercast with care. The chamberlain
Saw, greeted him, and took him to the queen.
He saw a throng of strangers and a hall
Where was a crystal throne with patterns traced
In emeralds and cornelians, every boss
A royal gem. The dais was compact
Of sandal and lign-aloe, and the pillars
Of onyx and turquoise. The edifice,
The queen's Grace, throne, and puissance much amazed
him.
He cried: “This is indeed an audience-chamber!
God's worshippers behold not such another.”
He paced toward her, and they set a seat
For him below the throne. Kaidáfa said:—
“Why marvel at our palace thus, Naitkún?
Is Rúm indeed so other that thou needs
Must wonder at our land?”

He said to her:—

“O queen! misprize not thine own dwelling-place.
Thy head is higher than the heads of kings
Because thine ocean is a mine of gems.”
Kaidáfa smiled: his speech and conduct charmed
her.
She then dismissed her court and, having seated
The envoy graciously before her, said:—

C. 1319
“O son of Failakús! thou art a master
In fight and festival, in good and ill.
Thou hast approached me boldly to ask tribute,
Although I know not what incited thee.”
On hearing this Sikandar's favour changed;
His soul was full of pain, his cheeks were livid.
He said: “O most wise queen! such words as these
Become thee not. I thank the All-provider
That none of all our famous chiefs are here
To tell this to the master of the world,
And take my life anon. Naitkún am I,
O mistress of the world! so call me not
The son of Failakús.”

Kaidáfa said:—

“Dispute it not because thou art Sikandar,
And, when thou seest the portrait of thyself,
Cease to dissemble and display no wrath.”
She brought and showed to him the silk all limned
With that fair portrait and so vividly
That, given motion, it had been himself.
He bit his lips; day grew for him like midnight.
He said: “Let no one be without a dagger
Concealed about him!”

“If thou hadst one here

Suspended from thy shoulder,” she replied,
“No strength or trenchant scimitar would serve;
There is no room for fight or road for flight.”
Sikandar said: “The great are eager ever
To win the world by valour, and must shun not
The path of danger, for the faint of heart
Excel not. Had I but my weapons now
The whole house would become a sea of blood,
And I, confronted by mine enemy,
Would rend my liver's seat or slaughter thee!”