Читать книгу The Story of Alexander онлайн

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It fell on a day that Philip the king was with him, and greatly did he praise him for his deeds, and much was his heart moved towards him; but he said: “Sorely my mind is troubled that nought of me hast thou in look, nor height, nor colour, whereby men may know that thou art my son”: for Philip was tall and black and dark-eyed. Then was the noble queen Olympias grieved when she heard tell of the king’s saying, and she sent for Anectanabus, the Egyptian, and he came, but with little speed, for he was now old and grey. And when he was before her, she asked him what should fall of the king’s speech, for ever she had feared the doom that was to come; but he comforted her, and bade her fear not, for he read day and night the stars for her, and none of the king’s thoughts were against her.

So he went out, and Alexander with him, and as they went, ever the Egyptian looked at the stars, and down at the ground, and sighed. So Alexander asked him at what planet was he looking, and Anectanabus showed it him. Then he asked him why he sighed, and the Egyptian said: “My hour draws near, the son of my works shall slay me! Look over our heads and see that red star shine—the star of Hercules, how bitterly it moves, but noble Mercury shines ever, and great Jove, how jollily he shines—the doom of my destiny is on me.” And as he said the word, Alexander stumbled forward, and pushing the unhappy Egyptian, he fell from the wall of the town where they were walking into the ditch which surrounded it, and with a cry sank. The youth plunged in after him, but when he found his body the old man was dead, and with what grief we cannot tell, Alexander carried home the body of Anectanabus to the palace of his mother. Let others tell the story of her grief, of her tears, and of the splendid tomb of the exiled king—I cannot.