Once upon a time there lived a king on the earth whose name was
Alexander of Macedon: this was in the old days very long ago. So long
ago that neither our grandfathers, nor great-grandfathers, nor our
great-great-grandfathers, nor our great-great-great-grandfathers
recollect it. This Tsar was one of the greatest knights of all knights
that ever were. No champion of earth could ever conquer him. He loved
warfare, and all his army consisted entirely of knights. Whomsoever Tsar
Alexander of Macedon might go to combat, he would conquer, and he
numbered under his sway all the kings of the earth.
He went to the edge of the world, and he discovered such peoples that
he, however bold he was himself, felt afraid of them; ferocious folk,
fiercer than wild beasts, who ate men; live folks who had but one eye;
and that eye was on the forehead; folks who had three eyes, folks who
had only a single leg; others who had three, and they ran as fast as an
arrow darts from the bow. The names of these peoples were the Gogs and
Magogs. Tsar Alexander of Macedon never lost courage at seeing these
strange folk, but he set to and waged warfare on them. It may be long,
it may be short, the war he waged—we do not know. Only the wild peoples
became dispersed and ran away from him. He began to hunt and to chase
after them, and he chased them into such thickets, precipices and
mountains as no tale can tell and no pen can describe.
So at last they were able to hide themselves from Tsar Alexander of
Macedon. What then did Tsar Alexander of Macedon do with them? He rolled
one mountain over them, and then another roof-wise on top; on the arch
he put trumpets, and he went back to his own land. The winds blew into
the trumpets, and a fearsome roar was then raised to the skies, and the
Gogs and Magogs sitting there cried out, “Oh, evidently Alexander of
Macedon must still be alive!” The Gogs and Magogs are still alive and to
this day are afraid of Alexander. But, before the end of the world, they
shall escape.