“I cannot, O little maidens,” he began, “relate to you the history of this magnificent tomb without telling you something of my own story, which is in a way bound up with it. Already it must be clear to you that I am no ordinary horse. The time has now arrived when I may reveal my name. Know, then, that I am no other than _Bucephalus_, the famous steed of the greatest conqueror in the world, Alexander the Great. “I was born in Greece, but when I was still very young, I was sent as a gift to the King of Macedonia, a country bordering upon my native land. As yet, no man had ridden me, and being young and untried, I was so impatient of control that when the king would have mounted upon my back, I reared and plunged, lashing out with my hind legs in a fashion so dangerous and unseemly that no one might approach me. “Full of anger at my fierce behaviour, the king was ordering me to be sent back whence I came, when his son, the young Prince Alexander, cried out, ‘This is a noble horse! Will you lose him for lack of a little skill and courage? Give me leave, my father, to make trial of him.’ “At first the king, afraid for his son’s life, refused, but, the entreaties of Alexander at last prevailing, he gave consent for the prince to approach me. “At once the noble boy drew near, and boldly seizing me by the bridle, turned me about so that my face was to the sun. For he had the wisdom to perceive that what had terrified my foolish young heart was nothing but my own shadow. This, now that the sun was not at my back, I could no longer see, and gradually, as I felt the prince’s kind hand patting my neck and stroking my glossy hide, I ceased to tremble. But, even so, such was my folly and youthful pride I would not have allowed him to mount if he had not with great skill taken me by surprise. As it was, before I had time to consider, I felt him already on my back, and, bounding forward in anger, I began to run like the wind. Far from making any endeavour to check my speed, the prince, without touching me with whip or spur, urged me on with ringing shouts of encouragement, and not till I was worn out did he draw rein. By that time I was his slave. His voice, his gentle touch had tamed me, and with delight I accepted him as my master. Never shall I forget how the king and his courtiers who had been struck dumb with fear while I raced like a mad thing, Alexander upon my back, now gathered round, praising us both. “The king, embracing the prince, exclaimed, as I remember: ‘My son, seek a kingdom more worthy of thee, for Macedonia is not sufficient for thy merits!’