"Thou canst not be admitted here,"
exclaimed a voice from within; "this gate is the Lord's." "I am the
Lord--the Lord of the earth," rejoined the impatient chief. "I am
Alexander the Conqueror. Will you not admit _me_?" "No," was the answer;
"here we know of no conquerors, save such as conquer their passions:
_None but the just can enter here_." Alexander endeavoured in vain to
enter the abode of the blessed--neither entreaties nor menaces availed.
Seeing all his attempts fruitless, he addressed himself to the guardian
of Paradise, and said: "You know I am a great king, who has received the
homage of nations. Since you will not admit me, give me at least some
token that I may show an astonished world that I have been where no
mortal has ever been before me." "Here, madman," said the guardian of
Paradise--"here is something for thee. It may cure the maladies of thy
distempered soul. One glance at it may teach thee more wisdom than thou
hast hitherto derived from all thy former instructors. Now go thy ways."
Alexander took the present with avidity, and repaired to his tent. But
what was his confusion and surprise to find, on examining his present,
that it was nothing but a fragment of a human skull. "And is this,"
exclaimed he, "the mighty gift that they bestow on kings and heroes? Is
this the fruit of so much toil and danger and care?" Enraged and
disappointed, he threw it on the ground.
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