Reign of Kasra Nushinravan, Forty-Eight Years

When Khosrow took his place on the ivory throne, he set that heart brightening crown upon his head. The great ones of the world gathered together, once the king had settled with his counselors. The chief of the nobles opened his lips and spoke in praise of the generous Giver of good. He said: may our hearts be full of praise and love for the Maker of the heavens. From Him comes all good, and every wish rests with Him; through Him we grieve and through Him we rejoice. From Him come both command and kindness; by His order the sun turns in the sky. We will not stray from His will or His care, and we count not a single breath outside His command. On the throne of kingship, whoever rules with justice, his heart will be glad because of that justice. Whoever plots an evil deed will, in the end, bring that evil upon himself. Whatever they ask of us, we will answer; we hold this precious day open to every plea. No one knows the thoughts within a heart, yet my own heart has no room for pettiness. If a king makes justice his craft, then without doubt everyone will be glad of that justice. Do not leave today's task for tomorrow, for who knows what tomorrow's turn will bring? The rose garden that blooms today, if you wait to pick it tomorrow, the flower will be of no use. When you find your body strong, think then of sickness, pain, and harm to come. So in life keep the day of death in mind; before death we are like the wind and a leaf. Whenever you grow slack in your work, all your judgment turns unsound. When envy takes hold of a man's heart, he becomes a sufferer no doctor can cure. The heart of an idle man who talks too much holds no honor in the eyes of others. And if desire overpowers wisdom, it will call no witness against its own madness. The road toward crookedness is nearer to you; the path toward honesty is narrower. In any task where you might rush ahead, it is better to hold back a little than to act rashly. If a tongue takes up with lies, it will find no radiance from the turning fortune of the sky. Speaking crookedly comes from helplessness; and one should weep for the helpless. When a king first rises from sleep, let him be safe from enemies and in good health. Wise and free of craving for food; excess in this brings only toil, pain, and greed. And if the king is just and generous, the world is full of goodness and ease. But if he bends his justice into wrong, his food becomes bitter and his water turns to blood. Everyone here in this gathering has heard this raised voice of mine. Know it well and be fully aware, all of you; may you walk with good fortune all your years. I have worn the crown of kingship, and I have nurtured my judgment with justice and wisdom. Yet I must listen to my minister, for without him good and bad cannot be told apart. Whoever comes to this court must have real business, or they find no way in. I will not go along with a minister who hides such matters from me. My officers who serve at my court, and my seasoned horsemen from the army, since we do not withhold their daily due, their honor and their shame must be watched over. All should show decency and truth; there must be no shortcoming in their work. Every Iranian who girds himself for service at this court, will receive wealth and kind words from us, as long as the servant is wise and modest. But when a subordinate seeks injustice, and is neither wise nor loyal to the king, he must be punished for the wrong he did; there is no need to grieve over a base man. Keep your hearts set on the command of pure God, and do not fear us. For He is the King over kings, lord of the world, victorious and sovereign. He who lights the crown, the sun, and the moon, and who shows us the path toward justice. The lord of the world is judge over all judges, higher than anyone's thought can reach. He created space, time, and the heavens, and adorned our souls and hearts with love. Your hearts were kindled with love for us, and He sewed shut the enemy's heart and eye against us. Follow God's counsel and command; do whatever the covenant requires. He preserved you until you rose to the high throne; He is your helper in worship. All well-being lies in His command, all goodness rests under His covenant. From a straw to the seven high heavens, and the fire, water, and lowly earth as well, all bear witness to God's existence, and grant your soul a bond of kinship with Him. All praise stands under His command, all worship stands under His covenant. When Anushiravan finished these words, a whole world was left in wonder at him. They all rose to their feet at once, and offered him fresh words of blessing. The king of kings summoned the learned, and spoke of the affairs of the world, one by one. He divided the realm into four parts, and named a flourishing city for each. First he mentioned Khorasan, and gladdened the hearts of the nobles with it. Another part was Qom and Isfahan, which he set as the seat of the great and the mighty. And of this share was Azarabadegan, which the noble freemen took as their portion. From Armenia to the gate of Ardabil, the wise and clear-hearted king measured out the land of Gilan. The third was Fars, Ahvaz, and the Caspian shore; his realm stretched from the east to the west. The fourth was Iraq and the land of Rome, such a kingdom and such a flourishing country. And of these lands, whoever was poor and had to earn by the toil of his own body, he gave them a full treasure, and a whole world called down blessings upon him. Of all the kings who came before him, whether their reigns were shorter or longer than his, they sought their share from what the people sowed and reaped; no one before had gone away empty-handed. The king's cut was a third, or a quarter; then Qobad came and set the rate at a tenth. From that tenth he wanted to take even less, striving to raise the lowly to the rank of the great. But time gave him no chance to do it. Do not feel too safe on the sea with a crocodile near. The crown, worthy of him, passed to Khosrow, who kept the same one-tenth tax as tribute. The wise men and nobles gathered, the great ones and the clear-minded priests. All the rulers assembled; he divided the land and stretched the measuring rope. They set a poll tax of one dirham each, provided the farmer was not left in distress. If anyone lacked seed, or had no livestock ready at plowing time, the cost was covered from the king's treasury; otherwise the land would be left barren and worthless. There was no talk of taxing what had not been planted; the old customs were now overturned. On a fruit-bearing vineyard the tax was six dirhams, and the same rate applied to a date grove. From olives, walnuts, and every fruit tree whose branches bore fruit at the autumn festival, one dirham for every ten trees came to the treasury; there was no other burden until year's end. And no one taxed the summer produce of the month of Khordad; it was left untouched. Whoever had money but was not a farmer felt no worry over toil, sowing, or harvest. According to their means, from ten dirhams down to four, the tax officer collected from them each year. No one wronged the peasant; this sum was paid in three installments over the year. One portion of this tribute was delivered to the king's court every four months. Scribes and servants of the king were not counted among those who paid this tax. The poll tax and land tax, whatever their names, were recorded in three ledgers and handed to the priest. One copy stayed with the treasurer; the minister was the keeper of that record. Another was to be sent to every province, to every notable and every chief. The third was taken to the high priest, so the poll tax and all the tributes could be accounted for. Every task rested on his command: taxes and tribute, the sowing and the harvest. He scattered watchful agents throughout the world, so that no good or evil could stay hidden from him. He filled the whole face of the earth with justice; wherever there was ruin, he made it flourish. Great and small slept peacefully in the open field; the lamb and the wolf came to drink side by side. He ordered a letter written in the Pahlavi tongue: you will find it pleasing when you hear it from me. At the head of the letter, first and foremost, stood: the King of Kings, Kasra, worshipper of God. On the day of Bahram, in the month of Khordad, whom God granted a crown and a share of the world. A fruitful branch of the tree of Qobad, who placed the crown of greatness upon his head. To the officers of tribute and taxes, the servants worthy of glory and the crown. Boundless greetings from us to you; when skill is joined to noble birth, so much the better. When we open our first words, let us begin by praising the Creator of the world. Know the wise and clear-sighted person to be the one who gives thanks to the Maker of the universe. Such a one knows that God has no need of us, and that every secret lies open before Him. Whenever He grants someone honor and pride, He first grants them freedom from want. He gave me the command, yet He is the true Judge; He is forever higher than every height. Kingship befits God alone; the Lord is one. No one has any role but to serve. From the heart of the earth up to the lofty sphere, from the heavens down to the dark, wretched dust, even the footprint of an ant bears witness for itself: we are the servants, and He is the King. He commanded us to nothing but honesty, for it is the demon who brings crookedness and flaw. If, from this fleeting inn of a world, I had wanted nothing but gardens, palaces, and treasure, my heart would still have sought only justice and love, and a bright, wakeful face for every task. Now the whole surface of the earth, from the east clear to the west, the pure God has granted to me as my kingdom, from the shining sun down to the dark dust. We must bring nothing but justice and love, even if for some task we must show a stern face. An ill-meaning shepherd and a vast plain leave the sheep abandoned to the wolf. It must never happen that upon our subjects, our landholders and our devout believers, on dry land in the dust, or on a ship at sea, in the bright day or at the hour of sleep, or upon the merchants of wet goods and dry, dealers in coin, in lustrous pearls and musk, the shining sun should ever pour down upon them anything but justice and love from the curve of the sky. In this way it has passed down through lineage and blood: the son receives the crown from the father. There was nothing in the world but justice and goodness; seen and unseen were one and the same. We set a tax upon the face of the earth, like a tree of tribute to sustain the ivory throne. When this decree is brought before you, may your god Ohrmazd bless and prosper you. Whoever overcharges by even a single coin shall be counted, for that instant, among the tyrants. By the God who granted me crown and glory, I swear I will cut such a man in two with a saw. And beyond this the Creator's own punishment awaits; let no evil eye ever set to work here. Keep this decree and its custom always before you, and never turn away from this blessed practice of ours. Every four months collect one portion of it, with justice and with blessing. Wherever locusts have done their harm, or the sun's blaze has scorched the plowed ground, or where the searing wind from the high heavens has brought ruin upon the crops, and where no rain has fallen at the New Year, so the once green plain has turned sad with drought, do not demand tribute from that land and its people, for the spring clouds withheld their rain from them. For the scattered seed and the toil they spent, give the farmers something from the treasury. As for land that has no owner, no man, no kin or connection to tend it, that ground must never be left to ruin, for it lies in the shadow of the King of Iran. For a slanderer would seize on this as shame, finding such a pretext in his grasp. Do not hold back from the treasury whatever is needed, for God has made me free of all want. When land lies ruined within my realm, the shadow of my glory cannot fall upon it. Any man given charge of such an affair, if he treats this hard duty with contempt, I will hang him alive on the spot, whether he stands high or low in rank. The great men who served the former kings followed a different practice in this matter. Good and evil rested with the officials, and the world lay at the mercy of the horsemen. They deceived reason and made it blind; they were never satisfied with piling up gold. God has given me a treasury, and the landed nobles an army; I have no wish to keep my eye on coins. Your task is to keep the world in order and to honor the worth of the well-born man. Dearer to me than his own life is my enemy, the one who covets my kingdom and my throne. A commander who sells human beings for gold shall not pass through this royal court. This court will honor only the man who holds to justice, love, custom, and the right way. When my clear-minded officials gather at the high priest's council of judgment, if a single man's lie comes to light there, from then on he will hold no favor with us. I have no love for the oppressor; a leopard and a cruel man are one and the same to me. Whoever seeks the path of God washes his darkened soul clean in the water of wisdom. In this court he will rise high, and among the wise priests he will be honored. From the seed a man sows for God, the joyful reward of paradise is his due. For we have no need of wealth that leaves the soul diminished under a curse. If a king feeds on the skin of the poor, his own flesh is surely nourished by their hide. A leopard is better than a ruler like that, who has no shame, no rule, no faith. The door of honesty stands open to us; why should we knock in vain at the door of corruption? Give a man justice in private, so that word of it may reach us. It is displeasing in the sight of God, and no one is honored for it in this court. The blessing of God and of us belongs to the one whose very fabric is woven of justice and love. If a ruler is just, he will endure long in the world. People will bless forever the king who keeps the land flourishing. Of all the kings who held throne and crown, rich in treasure and in armies, none was more just than Nushirvan, may his soul stay forever young. None surpassed him in wisdom, on the throne, in justice, and in courage. He had a chief priest named Babak, alert, wise of heart, and content. He gave him charge of the muster and the army, and ordered that before the king's gate, a place be prepared, broad and lofty, its top rising higher than the peak of a shining mountain. He spread a royal carpet upon it, and everyone who had a task took his seat. From Babak's assembly a cry went up, and all turned their ears to listen at once. It said: 'You renowned, battle tested warriors, mount your horses, all of you.' One by one they rode toward the king's gate, iron helmets upon their heads. Clad in mail, with ox headed maces, each man who sought his pay from the king, the army came to Babak's hall, and the sky turned black with the horsemen's dust. When Babak had looked over all the troops, he did not see the banner and the crowned head of Kasra. He rode his horse down from the hall and ordered them to return to their places. This day too passed as the turning heavens went by, and the shining sun showed its face again. A cry rose up from the king's gate: 'You mace bearers of the army of Iran,' 'come, all of you with weapons, bow, and lasso, to Babak's assembly, and be honored.' They marched out with spears, helmets, and armor, and the army's dust rose up to the clouds. Babak looked across the army, but the king's glory and majesty were nowhere to be seen. He said: For today, in kindness and justice, all of you go back victorious and glad. On the third day a call went up: You renowned men of glory and wisdom, let no single horseman from the army come without helmet and battle armor, and pass through this court, inspecting the review ground and the great hall. Whoever is honored with a crown, with glory, greatness, and a lofty throne, let him know that in the review there is no favoritism, no speaking with fear or bashfulness. When the king of kings, Kasra, gave ear, the call went out from Babak's assembly. Kasra laughed, called for his helmet, and raised the great banner straight up. The king strode into Babak's assembly, an iron cap set upon his head. He let a Roman mail coat hang from his helmet, its rings knotted tight all over. A mace shaped like an ox head in his grip, an arrow of poplar wood fixed at his belt. A bow on his arm, a lasso on the saddle, and a golden belt bound around his waist. He spurred the horse and pressed with his thighs, lifting the heavy mace to his shoulder. He worked the reins a little, left and right, and displayed his horseman's gear to Babak. Babak looked and was pleased; the king of kings seemed magnificent to him. He said to him: My king, may you live forever, and may wisdom be provision for your soul. You have adorned the face of the land with justice; such justice we will remember from you. It was boldness of your servant to say this, yet it is fitting that you not turn your face from justice. Wheel the reins once again to the right, in the way that befits your skill. Once more Kasra spurred the horse, left and right, like a bolt of sacred fire. Babak watched and was struck with wonder; again and again he praised the Creator of the world. A thousand horsemen and two thousand strokes of the ball, and none among them could match these four. The king added more coins to his pay, and a cheer rose up from the court: Bring on the horse of the chief of warriors, the renowned rider, the sovereign king. Nushin Ravan laughed long, for the fortune was young and the king was young. When Babak rose from the king's assembly, he came before the honored royal presence. He said to him: O great sovereign, if today I, your servant, grew bold and overreached, it was all honesty and justice in my heart; let the king not remember any harshness from me. I speak bluntly because I am honest; blessed is the one who never sought harshness for its own sake. The king said to him: wise man, never stray from the path of honesty. When you spare and pamper your own body, you break the heart of truth itself. For this your worth grew greater in my eyes, and my heart turned toward my own reflection: How, in the ranks of honor and battle, are we to raise the dust of the fight? The noble one answered the king this way: no one has ever seen a signet ring and crown so new, and no painter's image has ever shown a hand and rein like yours in any palace, my king. May the high heavens turn to your desire; may your heart be glad and your body unharmed. Nushirvan spoke to the priest this way: under our justice the old grow young again. In this world nothing should remain from a king except the memory of his fairness. Why hoard this treasure and endure days of toil, binding the soul to this fleeting inn of a world? Since you will not rest here forever, you must graze and roam while you can. I was full of worry about the state of the world, and I kept my thoughts hidden. For the royal crown has its enemies, and the demon lurks all around it. I told myself: I will gather armies from every side, summon warriors from every land. An army does not muster without treasure; and from lack of brave men, even treasure brings grief. If harm should reach the poor because of it, then the heart must give up this desire. I kept turning the secret over in my heart, and when the thought rose up before my reason, I turned to the champions and the nobles, and to the counsel of clear-minded, wise men. I wrote a letter to every land, to every famous and self-willed lord: let all of you who have sense and wisdom, and are raising a young son, send him to the field equipped for war, to seek honor and reputation near us. It must not be that on high ground or low he fails to know the grip, the rein, and the stirrup. With mace, sword, arrow, and bow he must learn how to grapple with an ill-wisher. A young man without skill is a wretched thing, even if he is the son of Arash himself. The proclamation went out to every land, and money was carried to every chief. The coin lingered forty days, then the men set out from their cities equipped for war. Once they had drawn their gold from the treasury, they spent their days in joy. So now the face of the world is fully manned; I have made ready and wait for battle to come. My equipment and my army are greater than those of the kings before me, and my fortune and my judgment are greater too. When the wise priest heard the king's words, he showered praise on the crown and the throne. When the sun revealed its shining face, the turning sky opened its garden of light. That mass of yellow blossom appeared, and the two dark tresses of night vanished away. The young king, blessed and bright of heart, took his seat upon Nushinravan's throne. A whole world turned its face toward the court, everyone on earth who sought a way to him. A cry went up from the royal court: let anyone who seeks the path of justice come to Nushinravan's court, the king's lips smiling, his fortune young. Then the king spoke aloud: seek no friend but the pure God. For He is the sustainer and the guide; He takes your hand in both worlds. Never fear the throne and the crown; this court stands open to everyone. Whoever comes by day or by night, do not keep your lips sealed from speaking. Whether we are drinking wine among our company, or sitting quietly with a counselor, at polo or out on the hunting field, the road to reach us is open to you. Asleep or awake, in hardship or in ease, let no one be turned away from this court. Let no one go to sleep resentful of me, until all their wishes have been granted. My heart grows glad and bright only when I put an end to the suffering of the oppressed. Let it never be that among my officials, or my soldiers and my attendants, anyone sleeps with a grieving heart, for their pain would bring harm upon me. Even words spoken in secret, the Creator of the world will ask me to account for them. Whatever remains of the tribute and tax that the priest has recorded in our ledger, no more gold or silver will be demanded of you; from now on do not sleep in fear of me. A cry of blessing rose up from the palace, and the shining face of the earth stirred with joy. May Nushinravan live in glory, year after year upon the imperial throne. May the throne and the seat never be left empty of you, nor this famous royal crown. They departed in joy and delight, and the face of the earth became like the garden of paradise. In the whole world you saw no one downcast; from the clouds came rain at just the right time. The world became like a joyful paradise; the rain in the air sowed tulips on the ground. Field and door and garden glowed like lamps; the garden shone like the sun, the meadow like the moon. Then word reached Rome and India that the face of Iran had turned to fine Roman silk. Like the shining moon, the king adorned the land with justice and with his army. No one could count that army, except perhaps the famous king himself. All of them glad at heart and ready for battle, all of them warriors mindful of honor and shame. The heart of every country's king was dazzled; before Nushirvan their own judgment seemed dim. Envoys came from India and China, and all sang the king's praises. They saw they had no strength to stand against him, so paying tribute and taxes felt easy to them. They all showed their submission and asked for many purses of gold and gifts to send. With maces of gold and crowns of gold, the envoys set out on their road. They came to the court of the world's king, the great ones arriving with tribute and taxes. The audience hall was arrayed like paradise, so full of servants, purses, and offerings. Time passed like this for a while, and the heavens turned kindly toward the king of Iran. Wise Khosrow made this decision: to set out from that borderland and move about. To travel around the joyful world and uncover its hidden secrets. He struck the war drum and led his army out; the moon and sun were dazzled at the sight. So many figures and troops, so much silver and gold, belts of gold and shields of gold. You would think no gold was left in the mines, no lustrous pearls or jewels remained. At ease he marched toward Khorasan, leading his army in the manner of the Sasanians. In every prosperous land he passed through, he pitched his pavilion and tents on the plain. When the sound of the trumpet rose, a herald would step forward on his feet. Crying: You subjects of the king of the world, whoever holds some grievance against us in secret, Do not sleep in fear of the king; do not let worry darken your hearts with evil thoughts. In this way he led his army to Gorgan, bringing the crown and throne of the great. Know that there was no lack of justice; a king needs excellence, wisdom, and noble lineage. From Gorgan they went to Sari and Amol, arriving in the season of the nightingale's song. Gate and plain were all thick forest around him, while the heart of Iran's king was full of thought. From the plain he climbed a high mountain, mounted on an Arabian bay horse. He looked at the mountain top and those woodlands: he saw flowers, hyacinth, water, and game. He said: O radiant Creator, ruler of the world, victorious and nurturing Lord, You are the maker of the sun and moon, the one who opens and shows the way. You created the world with such joy that from the sky the earth is not distinct. Whoever worships anyone but you is sending his own soul to hell. That is why Fereydun, the worshipper of God, made his dwelling in this woodland. A speaker said to him: O just king, if there were no crossing here for the Turks, our hearts would never be empty of joy, living in this rich and splendid land. We cannot even raise our heads, so much killing, plunder, and raiding there is. Nothing is left, great or small: not birds, not people, not cattle. The only way harm reaches the army of Iran from one land to another is through here. Long before this there was fighting and war; the Turks' passage was by the road of Khwarazm. Now the hardship suffered by the landholders and the free, the Persian-born of this soil and region, does not lessen but keeps growing; so now show us your mercy. There would be no place like this city in the world, if we could share in your justice. The same Fereydun, worshipper of God, never stretched his hand toward us with evil. If the king, in his lofty wisdom, sees fit, let him build here and close the enemy's road. Tears rained from the king's two eyes when he heard the words of the one who cried for help. Then the ruler said to his minister: this hard task has become an easy matter to me. It is not right that after this we roam and graze at ease, or nurse ourselves for the sake of the crown, the Lord of the world would not approve our tyranny: that we live in joy while the farmer lives in grief. Such mountains and these wide plains are all fit for gardens, fields, and palaces, full of cattle, game, and flowing water; the soul is dazzled just to see them. We will not let this land be ruined, or the cities of Iran be plundered. Neither by kingship, nor by wisdom, nor by manliness would such a thing be fitting. No one will bless us if the soil of Iran lies in ruin. He ordered his minister to bring, from India and Rome, wherever there was a prosperous land, the most skilled and discerning people from every country; choose the masters you find best. Raise a high wall out of the water, its breadth wide and its height ten lassos' lengths. With stone and mortar it must be built up from the depth of the water to the height of the sun. Once we make a barrier of this kind, no harm from the enemy will reach Iran. Let no one suffer hardship over this: give whatever they ask and open the treasury. The tiller, the landholder, and the man of noble birth must not be hurt in the name of justice. An old priest set about that work and raised a wall along the whole wilderness. They set upon it a great iron gate, and the whole flock was safe from the fear of wolves. He set guardians over the whole land, and once he felt secure, he marched his army out of the plain. From the sea he took the road toward the Alans and found a borderland ruined and left idle. He told his nobles, 'It is a shame that the soil of Iran should lie in ruins.' 'We must not agree to a situation where the enemy tells such tales about us.' From the army he chose an envoy, eloquent and wise, just as the task required. He said to him, 'Set out from here at dawn, and say to these border chiefs' army:' 'From the reports of my scouts I have heard every word that passed, open and hidden,' 'that you said: What fear have we of Kasra? What is Iran to us but a fistful of dust?' 'The desert is wide and its mountains are high; our army is master of the arrow, the mace, and the lasso.' 'We are all fighters from a foreign land; neither our troops nor our commander belong to this house.' 'Now we have come before you; we have pitched our pavilion, our throne, and our tents.' 'The pass and the cave are your places of ambush; the plain, the soil, the mountain, and the earth are yours.' The envoy came and delivered these words, that the lord of Iran had made his foundations firm. The army of the Alans gathered together, their great men, their sages, and their counselors. An army whose trade was raiding, and who gave little thought to noble conduct. Because of them the cities of Iran lived in terror; no one was left with clothing, gold, or silver. Woman and man, with child and cattle, would flee to the open plain; nothing was left in place. The envoy delivered the message of the king of the world to them, everything, open and hidden. The faces of the notables grew dark, and their hearts were stunned at the name of Nushirvan. The great men and warriors of that border set out, bringing heavy tribute and taxes. All manner of cloth, captives, silver and gold, and many precious horses. Those among them who were elders, eloquent men and lovers of knowledge, all came before Nushirvan, shaken and trembling over what had passed. When they reached the royal pavilion with their gifts and offerings, they cried out and rolled in the dust, their eyes full of dust and their hearts full of blood. When wisdom sits in confidence with a brave man, there is no need for shame or pleading. The alert king took pity on them and forgave every past offense at once. He ordered that wherever things lay in ruins, becoming lairs for leopards and lions, they should quickly raise a city there, with room within it for planting and harvesting. and a high rampart around it, so that no harm could come from the enemy. They told the famous king: 'We are your servants, wearing the earrings of slaves.' 'We will raise up, just as the king has ordered, a fortress and a renowned residence.' From that place the king marched his army; he went to India and stayed a while. By his command everyone came before him, each one seeking to save his own life. From the Indian sea for two miles there was money, along with gifts and horses and elephants. All the nobles came before the king, coming from that region with sincere and loyal hearts. Khosrow greeted them and treated them kindly, and gave each a rank fitting his worth. He returned from that place with a glad heart, and a world full of horses, elephants, and troops. On the road, word reached the king that the land had turned dark from the Baluchis. From so much killing and plunder and raiding, and casting the earth beneath the flood. The ruin from the Gilanis is even greater than this; blessings scattered before their curses. The heart of Nushirvan grew sorrowful; grief mingled with his joy. He said to the Iranians: 'The Alans and India have grown soft as silk from fear of our sword.' 'We will not be content with only our own realm; we hunt the lion even as it recoils from the sheep.' A speaker said to him: 'O king, in the garden there is no rose without the wound of a thorn.' 'Any borderland exists only with hardship; treasure is gathered so that it may be spent.' 'The noble Ardeshir struggled with the matter of the Baluchis, working with seasoned, wise advisors.' 'Neither magic nor trickery helped, nor chains, nor toil, nor battle and war.' Though these words were unavoidably true, Ardeshir had kept them hidden within himself. The king was enraged by the landholder's words, and set out along the road toward the Baluchis. When he drew near that borderland and its mountains, he surrounded it with his host. The army closed in around it in such a way that from the crowd they blocked even the path of the wind. From the foot of the mountain to the face of the cliffs, the troops were like ants and locusts. A herald went round the whole army; a cry rose from cave and mountain and plain. That whoever they found in that settlement, whether little children or brave men bearing swords. And even if the gathering were small, not a single one should be allowed to escape. When the army learned of the king's fury, horsemen and foot soldiers blocked every road. Of them, neither many nor few remained; no woman, no fighting man, no child was left. They put them all to the sword, inflicting cruelty and enduring hardship. The king of the world was freed of that trouble; no Baluchi remained, open or hidden. Things had come to this: their flocks on the mountain were left untended, abandoned to roam free. No shepherd walked behind the sheep across the plains or up the high peaks. They left all their belongings behind, worthless now, and took the valleys and mountains for their homes. From there he marched toward Gilan, when trouble broke out from Gil and Daylam. From the sea to the mountain peaks were troops: the air full of banners, the earth full of men. The army spread around Gilan until the light of sun and moon was dimmed. He gave this order: from here, young and old, let not one sheep nor one wolf survive. The mountains and plains were so heaped with the slain that blood ran across the whole face of the land. From so much killing, looting, and burning rose the cries and wails of men and women. On every side lay a pile of the dead; the grass was smeared with brains and skulls. All those of Gilan who were warriors, sharp, wise, and steady in judgment, bound their own hands, every one of them, their women behind and small children in front. They came crying out to the king, their clothes torn, their heads covered in dust. They gathered there before the court, all with hands bound and bodies wounded, saying, 'We have turned back from this evil ruler, perhaps the king will grow kind toward us.' 'If the king's heart is still bitter against Gilan, we will cut our own heads from our bodies with our hands.' 'Perhaps the king's heart will be satisfied when he sees a pile of severed heads.' When so much lament rose from the court, and the king heard those voices, the king of the world took pity on them; the past was buried deep within his heart. He demanded two hundred hostages from Gil and Daylam, so that after this none would take an evil path. He left one commander among them, and once matters were settled, he led his army on. From Gilan he marched toward Ctesiphon; he could see neither the number nor the edge of his troops. On the road, from afar, a boundless army of lancers came into view. A rider came swift as dust from the dense host, then dismounted on foot. He climbed down from his horse and spoke: 'This is Mundhir, come from Arabia.' 'He has come hoping to see the king, and to kiss the dust of the palace gate.' The king of kings said, 'If he comes, he is welcome; let him know this house is his own.' The messenger kissed the ground, went back, and repeated all he had heard. When Mundhir heard what the king had said, he pressed his face to the dust of the earth. At once he came before the king, and all the nobles opened a path for him. The king greeted him and was glad; seeing him added light to his eyes. Worldly, experienced Mundhir spoke, mentioning Rome and Caesar. He said: if you are the king of Iran, you are the one who guards the backs of the brave. Why should the Romans hold sovereignty and ride as masters across the plain of horsemen? If a king sits on Caesar's throne, it is only right that he be proud and supreme. What would you decree, noble king, so that you no longer see us come to you crying for justice? When our desert horsemen face the Roman riders, their armor turns useless. At Mundhir's words the king grew furious that Caesar was raising his crown so high. He chose an eloquent man from the army, one who would understand and grasp their speech. He told him: go from here to Rome, and do not rest in any settled land along the way. Tell Caesar: if you have no wisdom, your own thinking will bring punishment upon your head. If a battle-lion charges at a wild ass, it turns the beast's lair into a den and the water to brine. If you gain justice from Mundhir, that is enough, for his seat is above everyone else's. Learn to tell your left hand from your right; once you do, it is fair to seek your borders. For I am the bestower of lands and kingdoms; in this world I am the proud and supreme one. I do only what is fitting for me to do, and I let no ill wind blow against him. You reach out in vengeance against the Arabs; look inward at yourself in secret first. And more: that kingdom is mine, from the bull that bears the earth to the back of the fish beneath it. If I send an army to Rome, your steel sword will turn to wax. The envoy set out from Nushinravan, moving like a raging wind. He came to Caesar and delivered the message; the worthless Caesar recoiled from justice. He gave no answer but deceit, seeing only the descent that follows every height. He said: from feeble-minded Mundhir believe only what makes sense. If Mundhir cries out in vain, his complaining only swells this way. And even so, if from the plain of the spearmen no one rises up from end to end, we will spread wide the land that lies before us and turn that waterless desert into a sea. The envoy heard this and returned like the wind, recalling every word he had heard. Kesra flew into a rage and told his minister: wisdom is no companion to Caesar's mind. I will show him whose the command is, whose it is to conquer the world, to make war and treaties, to rise in greatness and lift the head high, to kill, to plunder, and to raid. The drunk man feels regret only when, at night, he thrusts both hands into the fire. He ordered the trumpets sounded, and the army rose up from every quarter. The drums roared from the royal court; the earth turned pitch black, the air like ebony. From that renowned host he chose thirty thousand sword-wielding horsemen. He handed that great army to Mundhir and commanded him to march from the plain of the lancers, to raise an army against the warriors of Rome and set that land and country aflame. Saying: though I am your king, in this quarrel I am also your ally and support. Let us first send him a smooth-tongued envoy, bearing a letter to him. Perhaps then no harm will come to you, and you will be pleased with me over Rome and Caesar. He summoned a scribe from the court and ordered a letter written to Caesar. From Nushirvan, the king of fortunate lineage, world-conqueror and heir of Kaykubad, to Caesar, the proud lord of Rome, guardian of that border and prosperous land. He began the letter with praise, for true greatness is sought from God alone, the Lord of the turning sun and moon, from whom come victory and power. Whoever strays from the way of the wheeling heavens, whether he seeks war, or justice and kindness, if you are Caesar, master of Rome, do not press your judgment further against the Arabs. If you seek a lamb from the claws of the wolf, that is a false hope and a great trouble. And if you send an army against Mundhir, I will leave you neither army, nor crown, nor throne. If any subject of mine acts with arrogance, he will feel the sword's reproach from me. Do not measure out a single span of that land with your foot, if you wish the treaty to stand. But if you ignore these words, I will ignore them too, and trample your head and throne beneath my horse's hooves. The blessing of the Lord of the crown and might be upon the one who does not stir up strife through injustice. They set the king's seal upon the letter and chose a rider from that court, one who was, as needed, sharp-tongued, worldly-wise, brave, and bright of mind. The envoy came with the king's letter before the renowned Caesar. He greeted him and handed over the letter, and recalled to him the will of Khosrow. Caesar heard his words and read the letter; he writhed and was left in astonishment. At Khosrow's proud words the man's brow filled with frowns and his face turned pale. He called for a scribe and wrote a reply, laying bare in it both the good and the ugly. When he dipped the pen's tip in dark ink, he first offered praise to the Creator. The painter who raised the high heavens, from whom come strife and peace and love. In this world He crowns one man as king, and sets another to stand before him with a servant's belt. If the turning sky itself is yours, then even the head of Jupiter bows to your command. Look into the records: the people of Rome never once paid tribute to the line of Iranian kings. If you are a monarch, I am no lesser man; I too have a crown, a throne, and an army. Why should I swallow so much insult out of fear of your marching elephants and beating drums? Now I demand tribute and tax from you, for I have the strength to make war on Rome. They plundered our goods for a time; that old wrong we no longer raise against them. From the plain we will send lancer horsemen to raise dust from one horizon to the other. It was not Nushiravan who made the sun, though he took the keys of the turning heavens. No man among the great can summon him, yet he gets all he desires in this world. He gave the envoy no answer at all; in his anger, no thought of Khosrow crossed his mind. When he sealed the letter he said: the cross and Christ stand beside you. The envoy spoke no word to him; he saw only a grim face, and returned grim himself. He came like the wind to the city of Iran and repeated all the Caesar's words. When the king read that letter, he raged against the turning of fate. He summoned all the priests and wise men and spoke with them at length about that letter. For three days he took counsel with them, and with the army-breaking champions. On the fourth day the king's decision was set: to march his army to war against the Caesar. From the gate rose the wail of the ox-horn trumpet, the blaring of pipes and the great brass drums. There was no rest, no delay in him; he sought war for the sake of justice. He gathered the troops, loaded the baggage, and remembered the goodness God had given him. Such a cloud of dust rose up you would think the heavens had smeared their face with a sea of pitch. It covered the face of the earth with horseshoes; the whole sky turned crimson as silk. There was no room on the ground even for a gnat, no path in the air even for the wind. From the riders' armor and the dust of the elephants, the earth became like the river Nile. The world-ruler moved on with the banner of Kaveh, wearing his crown and golden shoes. Their clamor carried for two miles; at the head of the army marched the drums and elephants. Nobles rode before and behind, moving on all the way to Azerbaijan. When his eyes fell on the fire temple of Azargoshasp, he dismounted from afar and left his horse behind. He rose in the proper way from the clean counsel, and washed his two cheeks with the water of his eyes. He entered the fire temple with tribute, and held there the festival of Sadeh at the threshold. He ordered the book of the Zend and Avesta, and the priest recited it aloud, correctly. The chief priest and the herbad rolled in the dust before him, all of them tearing the hems of their robes. The nobles scattered jewels over him, and murmuring, they chanted their blessings. As he drew nearer, he began to pray, and set to praising the Maker of the world. He asked of Him victory and power, and that his heart be shown the road toward justice. He gave gifts to the worshippers, and wherever he saw the poor, gave to them too. He pitched a tent before the fire temple, and the army drew up its ranks on every side. He called the wise scribe before him, and spoke with him of the necessary matters. He ordered a letter, full of blessings, to the frontier lords of the land of Iran: Be reverent and stay watchful; guard the army against the enemy. Every border chief and commander, whoever you are, all of you seek justice for those beneath you. Keep the army at whatever strength is needed, so that no ill-wisher may find a way in. Until someone sees my banner, no one should sleep too easy in his safety. When he set out from the fire temple toward Rome, news of him spread across the whole land. Whoever chose obedience came forward to meet him; others vanished from that region and country. The worldly-wise came in great numbers to the king with gifts and offerings. In every land and region where he halted, messages and greetings arrived from every side. Wherever in the world he led his army, nothing appeared but feasting and joy. It was such that every night a thousand of the warriors came to the king's banquet. As the battle drew near, he made his preparations, and began to hand out coin to the troops. The commander was Shiruy son of Bahram, who was measured and calm in war. He gave the left wing of the army to Farhad, and reminded him of much good counsel. He set the victorious Ostad over the right wing, and Goshasb, the world-seeker, at the head of the baggage train. In the center stood Arvand Mehran on his feet, for in the place of vengeance he kept his heart steady. He gave the vanguard to Hormozd Khorrad, and spoke with him at length of injustice and justice. Scouts went out in every direction, so that nothing would stay hidden from him. He summoned the seasoned men from the army, and delivered much good advice and counsel. He said this: this boundless army is made of both the lowly and the noble. If anyone strays from my path, or acts on his own will without my counsel, if he brings harm to the poor, or even to the great who hold treasures, if he tramples a farmer's crop underfoot, or breaks ranks and moves before the army, if he raids an orchard keeper's fruit, or does any shameful deed, I swear by God, who granted me the crown and the strength, the Lord of Saturn, Mars, and the Sun, that I will cut him in two with my sword, even if the tale should rise into the clouds. I stand at the vanguard before the troops; I am the world-seeker, the heart and mainstay of the host. I guard the elephants, the army, and the baggage, sometimes at the center, sometimes on the right flank. By land or across the watery sea, I seek no rest or sleep while in battle. There was a herald named Roshnavad, who kept the king's words fixed in his memory. He came running, circled the whole army, and passed by every tent and pavilion. He cried out: 'You boundless army, this is the command of the watchful king: if anyone acts by anything other than justice, love, and wisdom, and casts an eye upon the dark earth, they will spill his blood on that dark soil, once he steps outside the command of God.' But the king did not grow at ease with the herald's cry, by bright day or by dark-hued night. He would ride around the army on the road, keeping watch over both good and evil. He stayed aware of the affairs of the world, and left neither good nor bad to go slighted. For any soldier who died bravely along the way, he had a tomb built in that very place. If silver and gold were left behind by him, his cap, bow, lasso, and belt, the good and the bad of it were buried with the dead in the earth; nothing was better than a man laid in the grave. A whole world marveled at him, that Nushinravan had risen to such greatness. Wherever battle arose, he brought his judgment, his good sense, and his patience. He would choose a truthful envoy to go to the enemy and seek a remedy. If the enemy found their way to justice, the wise king did them no wrong himself. But if they sought war, he came to war, coming in his fury like a bold crocodile. He gave their whole land and their crops to plunder; he sought the world with justice and the sword. The king's judgment was like the sun that shines upon the wet and the dry along its path, and denies its light to no one when the clouds drift clear of the turning sky. To it belong both the dust and the sand, both color and scent, both the lustrous pearl and the stream's flowing water. His radiance and greatness came from no one else; he alone was heart-brightening and generous. This was the king of kings' strength and glory; he held the whole world sheltered beneath his wing. War and generosity were like a game to him, and he was so free of any need from others. If a lion and an elephant came against him, he would not carry the fight beyond a single day. An army that came before his forces armed with helmet and coat of mail, ready for battle, whether slain or bound and wailing, ended up in the prisons of the victorious king. So it went until he reached that city, the fortress whose name was Shorab. He saw a tower raised into the sky, full of men and instruments of war and music. Its foundations sunk in deep water on solid rock, its ramparts reaching into the clouds. The army circled the fortress but found no way in to its gate anywhere. He set up catapults on all four sides, and that priestly stronghold's wall came crashing down. A doomsday clamor rose from every side of the fort; they could find no path or place to flee. By the time the bright sun had turned across the dome of sky, that fortress wall had become like flat open plain. The shout of horsemen and the dust of the army, with smoke and fire, rose up to the moon. The whole fort was heads without bodies, and their headless bodies lay in another place. The cry for mercy and the wailing of women rose up like the beating strokes of drummers. Among them, everyone who was of high standing, weighty in treasure and in valor, they bound onto elephants and loaded up, while the clamor and pleas for mercy rose. He spared no one in the hour of battle, nor any hoard of gold at the feasting table. Then he led his army away from that place, and along the road another fortress appeared, one that held the Caesar's treasure locked within, and its keeper was a wealthy man. Its name was 'the Pride of Rome,' and in the end it fell to Khosrow. The watchful king looked upon that fortress while his army had not yet reached it. He ordered them to rain down arrows, to make the sky like spring hail. Not one crowned commander was left in the garrison; only thorns remained on that land, east and west. He gave over all the Caesar's treasure to plunder, and handed his troops purses of gold and crowns. He raised a doomsday uproar in that city, and everyone took to the road in flight. A cry rose from child and man and woman; old and young alike gathered together. They came before the noble king, crying out and begging for justice. saying: 'The command, the rule, and the treasure are all yours; in Rome the war and the hardship are yours to decide.' 'With our very lives we beg your protection; we are the servants of your glorious crown.' Then he ordered that they not be killed either, and he pardoned them and gave them many gifts. From there he marched his army onward, past the splendor of Rome and beyond. A messenger, bringing word from the scouts, came before the king of the world. He said the Caesar had sent an army ahead, drawn from his famous men and champions. At its head marched a mighty warrior, and every man in battle was like a wolf. In Roman they called him Farforius, a proud horseman with trumpet and war drum. When this was said before the watchful king, the dust of an army appeared in the distance. The king of the world laughed and said, 'This is no secret to us.' 'We prepared for this battle long ago, and cleared our minds of every worry.' The crowned king brought froth to his lips, and ordered the ranks drawn up. One army advanced against the other, and the road was choked with dust and wind. A famed host gathered together, proud champions who wield the sword. All of them belted tight for war: the great, the wise, and the noble. They had steeped their blades in blood, blades sharp enough to slice through cloud. The army needed no longer a moment than a leopard needs to seize its prey from a height. On every side there was a mound of slaughtered Romans; the rest, wounded, had fled the fight. Farforius left the battle wounded, his banner torn, his war drum overturned. The Iranian horsemen were like leopards on a plain where a wild ram falls into their grip. Then they charged after the Romans and cleared the gates and fields of them. So they pressed on, ready for war, with spear and mace and dagger in hand. He led the army onto a plain, and another fortification came into view. It was a fortress with troops, trumpet, and drum, a place they called Qaliniyus. Its walls rose higher than an eagle's flight, and a moat full of water ran around it. A wide city surrounded it, full of halls, gardens, arenas, and palaces. Within it was a large Roman force, all famous men, eager for battle. The king was two leagues ahead; the world turned black with the dust of the army. A roar rose up from Qaliniyus, so loud that the sound of the drums grew faint. The king looked into that city, and every moment its army grew larger. From the gates they made ready for war, and hurled down arrows and vessels of fire. When the shining sun turned pale and set, one part of the turning sky went deep blue. Barely anything was left of that fortress wall; the whole city was leveled with the ground. A cry rose from the king's court: You famous ones of the army of Iran! Leave this city, every one of you, and go out into the open plain under cover of dark. If any cry of a woman or an old man, or any looting, uproar, or violent seizing, reaches my ears in the dark of night, if a single man opens his lips in complaint of harm, then at once the one who causes that cry will be seen with his skin stuffed full of straw. When the sun raised its blade out of Cancer, the toil wore away and sleep melted off. The drum sounded from the king's court, and the nobles set out on the road. From that fortress and that city, men and women gathered at Khosrow's court. They said: No warrior horseman remains here; no man of name is left in this city. The innocent have all been killed or wounded; the time has come for the king to show mercy. Women, small children, the young and the old, it does not befit God's justice that they be captives. The fortress, wall, and city became such that afterward nothing was seen but a thornfield. Since Caesar was the guilty one, who are we? What weight do we hold at Qalinus? The king had pity on those Romans; the guilty were spared, and so were the innocent. Much treasure was left in their hands, and from there too the king marched his army on. Everyone who was fit for battle they bound upon elephants and loaded as cargo. Word reached Antioch about the king, that he had come on the road with elephants and army. A countless force moved toward that city, brave Romans and valiant men. For three days the king held back, so that the fighting would not be unjust. On the fourth, the army poured in like a mountain, the brave of Iran in company after company. The horsemen of Rome all went out to fight for their women, children, treasure, and land. The whole army entered the city, until there was not even room for a foot on the ground. Three heavy battles were fought in three days; on the fourth, when the world-lighting sun blazed, that flourishing frontier land was taken, and no warrior horseman was left in Rome. The great ones who held throne and crown, and those who were Caesar's treasurers, handed the treasure over to the world-ruling king; the treasure fell into his grasp, since he had endured the toil. The king sent the captives and Caesar's treasure off along the road toward Ctesiphon. And every one of them who had been a fighter they bound and set upon the backs of elephants. He saw the ground gleaming brighter than the moon in the sky, and the king rode all around that city. So many gardens, fields, and running streams; the world, grown old, was made fresh once more. The king said to his wise men: 'Is this Antioch, or is it early spring?' Whoever has never seen a joyful paradise, here its dust is musk and its bricks are gold. Its trees are of ruby, its water rosewater; its earth the heavens, its sky the sun. We must look upon this new land, and may the whole territory of Rome flourish. Anushirvan ordered a city built, with running waters inside it, shining like a lamp, in the likeness of Antioch, full of rose gardens, palaces, fields, and orchards. The nobles, bright of heart and content, named it 'The Ornament of the King.' That Ornament of the King became like joyful spring, a paradise full of color, scent, and beauty. The captives who had been bound from those cities, their hands and feet worn out by heavy chains, he ordered their bonds removed, and let them settle freely in those cities. He said: 'This newly built place, with all its gardens, orchards, and dwellings, we have made so that each person, to their liking, may have a home worthy of their name.' He gave wealth to everyone, and the land was adorned like a paradise. So crowded were the streets, alleys, and marketplace, you would say no path was left upon the ground. A talkative shoemaker came forward and said: 'O unjust king, in Callinicum my house had a mound of earth before my doorstep. This Ornament of the King brings me no gain, for there is no mound before my gate.' He ordered that at the ill-starred man's door they cut down a few flourishing trees. The king chose a Christian man and gave him command, treasury, and crown. He said to him: 'This Ornament of the King is yours; the strangers and this new dwelling are yours.' 'Be like a fruit-bearing tree; be a father at times, and at times like a son.' 'Adorn yourself with generosity and do not be miserly; speak measured words on every matter.' The king led his army out of Antioch and left the world-wise Christian as its guardian. Then news came from Farfuriyus, telling what had happened at Callinicum. He said to Caesar: 'The army has come, Kasra the world-ruler, with elephants and his throne.' 'The troops are as vast as sea and mountain; the very earth grows weary from the dust of their horses.' Caesar turned back from his own resolve and summoned the wise nobles before him. His heart filled with dread of Anushirvan; he took counsel day and night, through all three watches. The wise man told him: 'This is no sound plan, for you have no footing against Kasra in battle.' They will lift the soil from this thriving land, and the Caesar's work will sink into the grave. A feeble tongue in a poet and a weak judgment bring nothing but hardship upon a kingdom. When Caesar heard this, his heart was stunned; his hopes against Nushinravan turned dark. He chose from among the philosophers of Rome one who was eloquent, wise, and of clean lineage. Sixty men came forth from the priests, and they nominated them to go to Khosrow. He sent a message to the king, and the noble ones set out on the road. With their learned Mehras at the head, old in wisdom yet a young commander. A treasure of every kind was laid before them, its full count and measure reckoned out. Much pleading, counsel, and fine speech, and regret for the words spoken long ago. He sent them off with heavy tribute and tax, and hostages from his kin and champions. When Mehras heard Caesar's words, the key to that evil lock appeared. They came near to Nushinravan, their tongues honed sharp as diamonds along with their spirits. When Mehras reached Khosrow's presence, he offered a blessing in the Roman tongue. You would have said that from his keenness and honesty a star rose out of his sleeve. He said to Khosrow: O king, do not hold the world in such lofty pride. Now Rome and Iran both stand empty for you; every land is worthless and without culture. Whenever Caesar is not in Rome, this land and realm is not worth a single gnat. All benefit comes from people; when a man is lost, humanity itself is lost. If this upheaval is sought for the sake of something by which respect and knowledge have been diminished, then I have now brought all the treasure of Rome, for a bright spirit is better than treasure and land. When the king heard these words from him, his heart grew glad as a garden in spring. He accepted all that had been brought, whether a purse of gold or captives taken. He began to praise the envoys and to add still more to those kindnesses. He said to him: O man of bright wisdom, no one who nurtures wisdom is ever led away captive. Even if all the soil of Rome turned to gold, you would weigh heavier than that crown-bearing land. They imposed tribute and tax upon Rome: scattered gold coins, ten hides of an ox in measure. From that place they heard the wail of the horn and the sound of the brazen trumpet. The vigilant world-ruler marched his army, came to Syria, and stayed there a while. He brought back so many weapons and troops, so many captives, purses, crowns, and thrones, that the back of the earth was bent low under the elephants and the treasuries of silver coin. When he decided it was time to leave that borderland, he handed his post over to Shirouy son of Bahram. He told him: collect this tribute from Caesar, and never grow slack about it, day or month. Shirouy kissed the ground before him and kept praising his king. He said: stay alert and fortunate, so this royal tree may yield its fruit through your justice. The drums sounded from the king's court, and the army's banner set out toward Jordan. The world ruler Khosrow was like the sun; the world both feared him and set its hopes on him. This is how the sun of the sky moves: with a sword in one hand and kindness in the other. He shows no mercy at the moment of anger, and no anger clouds his eyes on the day of giving. Such was that king of royal blood, who had adorned the world with justice.

Whether you are a king or a servant, or a pure-hearted man who worships God, know this: there is no escaping a wife, for clothing, food, and a hidden home. If she is virtuous and gives good counsel, she is a scattered treasure of a woman. Especially if she is tall of stature, with dark, flowing hair down to her feet, wise, alert, thoughtful and modest, her speech lovely and her voice soft. The king had a noble wife like this, tall as a cypress and lovely as the moon. This moon-faced woman followed the faith of Christ, and the whole city buzzed with talk of her beauty. She bore him a child with a face like the sun, brighter in the sky than the planet Venus. They named the famous child Nushzad; so cherished he was that not even a harsh wind reached him. He grew like a slender cypress, gifted and worthy of a king of kings. He came to know hell and the road to heaven, the ways of Christ and the path of Zoroaster. The Zend prayers did not sit right with him; he washed both cheeks in the water of Christ. He left his father's faith and took his mother's creed, and the age stood amazed at him. The king grew so heartsick over him, for the rose had yielded nothing but thorns. They shut him in his palace and blessed hall and made it his prison. His place of confinement was Gundishapur, far from Iran and from the West. Many prisoners in chains and full of wounds shared that prison there with him. When the king returned from Rome, he groaned from the strain and hardship of the road. He grew so weak that his body failed him, and from sickness he could no longer bear the weight. Someone carried the news to Nushzad, that the royal glory had grown dim. The whole world would now fall into turmoil, and everywhere men would be led astray to evil. The vigilant lord of the world, Khosrow, is dead; he has left time and earth to another. Nushzad rejoiced at his father's death, so may the name Nushin never rest on him. An old man drew a lesson from this tale: if you rejoice at a death, may you never die. A son who turns away from his father's path, we call him a tyrant, if not a fool. If the root is that of bitter colocynth, wet or dry, its branch cannot bear fragrant musk. Why should it change from the very nature the gardener planted in it at the first? If it leans instead toward the soil, it cuts itself off from sun, wind, and earth. No fruit will it give, nor leaves; its life and death come from the dust. I have told a tale of Nushzad; take heed, so that you never turn your face from justice. If the wheel of fate needed a chief minister, then surely Kasra himself would be its minister. Why should a son turn his head from his father's path? Why should he sit and scheme to seize his throne? Hear this story from me, from beginning to end; I will tell you, my son, every part of it. When I dressed up the words of the old sage, I wished to leave a mark of myself in them, So that such a keepsake would remain of me, and win the blessing of those who bless. After my death, I who am the teller of this will still be sought after through this lasting name. So spoke the Persian teller of tales, when more than a hundred and twenty years had passed: That anyone who is the enemy of the just is not of human stock but is a demon. This story too comes down about Noshzad, remembered from the words of ancient times. When Kasra's son heard that the throne had been emptied of that royal tree, The king's son threw open the palace, and a great army gathered around him. Everyone who had broken free from the bonds of reason, whom Nushinravan had shut in prison, He unlocked the chains from the prisons, and the whole city struck their heads in grief over him. Everyone in the city who was a Christian, whether bishop or overseer of the church, He gathered many of them around himself, defiant horsemen who wielded the sword. Some thirty thousand came to him, all lancers and swingers of daggers. He wrote a letter to a friend of his, in the manner of the Caesar's dark faith: That you are the chief over Gundeshapur, and share the Caesar's voice and creed. The whole city turned full of sinners through him; the head of fallen fortune was roused and awake. News of this reached the city of Ctesiphon, of what had come to light from Kasra's son. The guardian of Ctesiphon's frontier sent a rider on the road toward the king. He told him everything he had heard; how could such news be kept hidden? The messenger, swift as running water, came before Nushinravan. He told what he had heard and handed over the letter, the words that had come out about Noshzad. The king listened to him and read the letter; he grew grieved by that affair and fell into gloom. The ruler of the world sat with his proud high priest, and they spoke together for a while in secret. When that matter settled deep in his heart, he ordered the scribe to come before him. He wrote a letter full of anguish and pain, his face lined with grief, his lips full of cold sighs. First he spread out praise for the One who created the sphere, and time, and the earth, The painter of the sun, Saturn, and moon, the kindler of glory, crown, and throne. From worthless straw to lion and elephant, from the trail of an ant's foot to the river Nile, all of it lies under God's command, even the mute stone and the anvil. His command has no visible limit, and no one can strip His sovereignty from Him. I understood from this unwelcome letter how much harm has come from my own son, and from those guilty men who broke from prison and gathered together with Nushzad. If a man expects a day like this, it is fitting that he not linger long in the world; for no one was born from a mother except for death, from Khosrow at the beginning down to Nushzad. None escape the claw and beak of death, not gnat and ant, not elephant and rhinoceros. If the earth were to reveal its secret and measure out its beginning and its end, its lap would be full of crowned kings, its breast full of the blood of horsemen. Its skirt would be full of wise men, its collar full of lovely faces. Whatever crown you set on your head, whatever helmet, the arrow of death will pierce right through it. The band that sides with Nushzad keeps nothing in mind but Khosrow's death. Even if you yourself survive this evil day, it befits you to be glad at another's death? And besides, no one recalls the death of kings with joy except a man of base blood. Nushzad's head turned away from reason, and such a demon fell into tune with him. This talk will not stand firm for him; what he raised so high he wanted only to bring down to ruin. He should not have squandered, in his blindness, the power he held near us, with this recklessness. If the throne had been emptied of Khosrow, he himself would have been worthy of kingship. This was fitting to his own creed, and deserving of his ill-wishing soul. There is no worry or fear in my heart over this, even if my son's faith is not pure. Nor over those who conspired along with him and emptied their hearts of respect for me; nor over the wealth he laid to waste, which in my heart counts as nothing at all. They are ill-minded, useless, and base by nature; they do not suit even this lowly station. On this account their affair is trivial to me; do not let their deeds trouble your heart. My fear and dread are of the Judge of the world, who stands above the knowledge of even the highest. My soul must not stand ungrateful before God, the one who recognizes goodness. He granted me victory and divine splendor, abundance and the crown of kingship. If I gave thanks worthy of such giving, He would grant me still more increase. If a single drop of water left my loins, it found its resting place somewhere else. When the enemy woke and came against me, I feared the trouble had begun with me. And if the king of the world is not in a rage, I have no worry over such a matter. As for those who joined ranks with him, they are all wretched and worthless in my eyes. And from that letter Caesar sent to him, muddy water began to flow into the stream. Anyone who shares his voice and his faith, they imagine Caesar is one of their own. A man whose reason falls short does not look back to his own ancestors. When a heavy fool turns his head away from justice, you must not open your lips to curse him. For a curse against him is truly a curse against us, since he is of our lineage, blood, and body. So marshal your army and prepare for war, but show restraint and take your time. And if it comes to a tight corner, do not act with any harshness in the fighting. To capture him is better than to kill him, in the hope that he turns back from his sin. From the water where the free cypress grew, it is fitting not to wash away with dust. But if he treats a noble body cheaply, and lowers the face of the tall cypress into the dirt, if he lifts his head from the pillow of ease, then do not hold back the mace or the sword from him. One dear to us who longs for his own disgrace cannot be parted from his own nature. A noble one dies debased when he wages war against the king of the world. Have no fear then of killing him, once his own blood is claimed by the earth. He keeps leaning toward Caesar's faith, and turns his head away from our crown. A dear one became wretched, debased, and broken, though chosen for kingship by the lofty heavens. A servant named Mehrnosh, wise and clad in wool, offered up this saying. That whoever rejoiced at his father's death, may he have no comfort and no life. Do not seek brightness out of darkness, for with fire the water pours into the stream. No one ever found ease without hardship; the bright world is simply built this way. Do not make friends with the turning heavens, for one moment you are its kernel, the next its husk. Why seek color and scent from its deeds? It means to snatch away what it has shown. The danger of pain and harm is greatest just when the turning sky lifts you high. The army that stands with Noshzad, why do they turn their heads so far from justice? Know it as nothing but wind and mere play, the boasting of babblers and the counsel of the wicked. Everyone in his army who is a Christian turns his head only for the sake of that faith. Such is the faith of the Messiah: you speak a sharp word, and someone is left dejected by it. He cared nothing for the counsel of Christ; in the end his enemy's emblem was the cross. The rest are all scattered wretches: bad teachers, ill-wishers, and mere servants. Not one of them has any sounder judgment; their opinion is worth no more than a puff of wind. If Nushzad is captured in the fighting, do not so much as mention any of these matters to him. For the veiled women in his household would, in secret, bring their own lives to an end over the shame of it. Make his palace itself his prison, along with all who carried out his commands. Do not close the treasury against him at all, even though, once honored, he is now brought so low. In the matter of the veiled women, of food, of furnishings and of bedding, let him lack for nothing; he must not go without anything he needs. And of these Iranian frontier lords, every one who bound himself in alliance with him, once you are victorious, do not mince words: cut them in two through the waist with the sword. Anyone who is an enemy of the king, it is right to feed to the jaws of the crocodile. But apart from Nushzad, whoever is our enemy at heart springs from the seed of cruelty, of the devil's own stock. They will not remember the good we have done; the lesson of Nushzad is warning enough for you. Any onlooker who cursed us, who let his tongue wag against Nushzad, who deliberately wished insult upon us and made ready their slanders when the moment came, do not consent to this either: that our ill-wisher should tell such a tale. Even if he has proven worthless, he is still of our own blood, and our heart bears witness to this truth. The tongue of anyone who spoke evil, and by whom injustice was done to Nushzad, brand it all in front of the assembly: let him have neither tongue nor mouth. Whoever waits and watches for the day the king's body grows weak, who works crookedness and hatred, malice and the devil's creed, he has no right to this kingship, which is our glory, our head, our crown, and our very face. They set the king's seal upon the letter, and the messenger turned and set off swiftly on the road. When he had come from the road to Ram Borzin, he told all he had heard from King Kasra. When that had been said, he handed over the letter, with the command the king had given concerning Nushzad: to raise an army and prepare for war, and to clear his mind of any tenderness toward him. When the old man had read that letter and heard some words from the messenger, at the hour when the cock's cry rises, the sound of the war drum rose from the court. A great army set out from Ctesiphon, and Ram Borzin marched swiftly to the war. Then word reached Noushzad; he gathered his troops and paid them their wages. They were all Christian bishops and men of Rome, natives of that prosperous frontier. At their head marched the commander Shammas, leading an army with hands already washed in blood. A roar rose from Noushzad's gate, and the army stirred like a sea churned by the wind. They poured out of the city onto the open plain, their hearts full of war, spite, and poison. When Ram Barzin saw the dust of the army, he sounded the brass trumpets and drew up his ranks. From the dust of the armored horsemen and the swinging of heavy maces, the heart of solid stone was torn apart; no one could see the shining sun's face. At the center of the army stood Noushzad, a Roman helmet set upon his head. There was an army of Roman bishops so dense that the ground could not be seen beneath the hooves. You would think the earth itself had begun to boil, and the sky above it had begun to roar. A bold warrior in mail came forward, a man whose name was Piruz-Shir. He cried out: 'Renowned Noushzad, what has turned your head so far from justice? You have abandoned the faith of Kayumars, and the path of Hushang and Tahmuras. The deceiving Messiah was himself killed, once his head was turned from God's religion. Do not seek vengeance for the sake of one who did not even know how his own affairs would end. If the divine glory had shone upon him, how could a Jew have found a way against him? Your father, that free and noble world-ruler, you have heard what he did to Rome and its Caesar. And now you wage war against him, raising your head toward the sky. With a face like the moon and this radiance and majesty, with these shoulders, this arm, and this mace, I see no wisdom left in you; your darkened soul has grown so foolish. What a pity for that noble stature, crown, name, and lineage that you are now casting to the wind. You are no match for King Kasra, nor are you a roaring elephant or lion. Yet, O prince, in no royal hall have I seen a form like your hand upon the rein, like your foot in the stirrup and your neck, this fury and your arm and your club. No painter of China ever painted such a figure; time itself has never seen a king like you. In your youth, do not scorch King Kasra's heart; do not darken this world-brightening water of life. Dismount from your horse and beg for mercy; throw down this mace and Roman helmet. For if, far from here, one cold wind should settle dark dust upon your face, the king's heart would burn for you, and the sun would weep at the sight of your face. Do not sow the seed of harshness anywhere in the world; hostility does not become a king. If you turn away from my counsel, you may reach for greatness and try to play the hero. But then Piruz's advice will come back to you, and so will your own bitter words. Nushzad answered him: 'You worn-out old man, your head full of empty wind, do not beg protection for me from the army; make me proud, for I am the king's son. I have no need of Kasra's faith; my heart leans toward my mother's. Her religion is that of the Messiah; I will not turn from her glory and her faith. If the faithful Messiah was slain, still the divine glory did not leave him. That pure spirit rose to the pure God; he found no greatness in this dark earth. If I too am killed, there is no fear in it; where is the poison of death without its antidote?' He said this to old Piruz, and then the sky's face was veiled with arrows. The champions of the army moved out; the roar of drums and trumpets rose up. The commander spurred his horse like fire and charged forward like lightning. He broke the left wing of the Iranian king's forces; no warrior stood before his advance. He killed many men of the army, and this made Ram Barzin turn fierce. He ordered a rain of arrows, so the air was like the hail of spring. In the swirl of dust Nushzad was wounded, and he thought often of Piruz's advice. He came to the heart of the army, full of pain, his body torn by arrows, his face pale with agony. He said before the brave men of Rome: 'War against a father is wretched, shameful, and cursed.' He wept and called the bishop to him, and poured out all that was in his heart. He told him: 'This grim fate has brought so many cruelties upon me, from my own hand. Now when my head sinks into the dust, send a rider to my mother. Tell her that Nushzad has left this world; his days of good and evil are over. Do not let your heart grieve for me, for this is the way of this fleeting house. This is my share of that dark day, though my heart was once glad and the world was bright to me. A living creature is born only to die; if you understand death, do not mourn for me. My head is not stained with the smoke of killing; my father is worse than I, for he is never content. Make no tomb, no throne, no long labor for me; in the way of the Messiah, dig me a simple grave. No camphor is needed, no musk, no perfume, for I have been killed by an arrow from this world.' He said this and closed his lips together, and the famous lion-hearted Nushzad was gone. When the army learned that their king was dead, they scattered from that field of battle. When the enemy heard the champion had fallen, they rushed, wailing, to his bedside. From that battlefield no one killed anyone more; they took no joy and carried off no spoils. They found him slain, cast down and abandoned, with the Roman bishop cradling his head. The whole field filled with cries because of him, and the heart of Ram-Barzin was full of grief and anguish. He asked the bishop: of Noshzad's dying words, what of the prince's testament do you remember? The bishop answered: no one but his mother should see him naked, laid before her. When he saw his body wounded by the arrow, he ordered no tomb, no musk, no perfume. No crown, no Roman silk, no throne, since from the slaves he had seen a dark and bitter fate. In the way of the Messiah, let his mother now prepare his shroud, his grave, and his covering. Now his soul is one with the Messiah; this wounded man is not one for the gallows. Every Christian who was in the city, not one of them left their face unscratched in mourning. A cry rose from the city, men and women alike; all of them gathered together as one. The body of that brave and youthful prince, the heart and eye of King Nushirvan the Just, they lifted in his coffin from where he lay and carried it three leagues by hand. When his mother heard those words, her head and her crown sank down into the dust. She came out onto the road, bare of her veil, while crowds thronged the marketplace around her. They pitched a great tent around him, and a whole world poured dust upon their heads in grief. They gave him to the earth, and Noshzad was gone: he came from the wind, and suddenly to the wind returned. The whole host of Shapur broke into weeping; their hearts burned with sorrow for the prince. Why do you writhe, blind in the grip of greed, when you know you will not stay here long? Seek only your passage on, and do not chase this world so; its roses hold poison, so do not sniff too deep. Do not turn your face from faith and from honesty, for God's wrath brings only ruin and loss. When you hear this, draw your heart back from sorrow; do not set your lips ablaze with grieving. If you have a cup of wine, ask for it, golden; do not count joy of heart among your sins. Seek delight and gladness, and do not grow slack; do not waste the marrow of your words on idle talk. If there is any love of Ali in your heart, on the Day of Judgment that saint will intercede for you.

Never think a dream is worthless; count it as one part of prophecy. Especially when the king of the world dreams it, and his shining soul chooses its meaning. The stars consult with the heavens and the moon, and scatter their messages along the way. Bright souls see in sleep all that will come, like fire flickering over water. One night King Nushirvan lay asleep, wise, alert, and in the prime of his fortune. In his dream he saw a royal tree spring up before his throne. It filled the king's heart with joy; he called for wine, the lute, and musicians. But there, in that place of ease and delight, a sharp-tusked boar came and sat down. Once seated, it settled to drinking wine, and asked for a share from Nushirvan's own cup. When the sun raised its head from the sign of Taurus, from every side rose the lowing of cattle. Kasra sat gloomy upon his throne, his heart full of sorrow from what he had seen. They summoned the dream-interpreter and seated the sages upon their places. The king told the guiding priests all that he had seen in his dream. The interpreter gave no answer, for he had no knowledge of such a thing. Yet whoever admits his ignorance stays clear of blame and disgrace. When the king got no answer from the learned man, his troubled heart turned toward a remedy. He sent a nobleman out in every direction to search through every land. With each he sent a purse of gold as companion, hoping much for their return. In every purse were ten thousand silver coins, so they might seek far and wide across the world. To find a wise interpreter of dreams, one who had traveled far in every branch of knowledge, who could unravel this dream of the king of the world and bring its hidden meaning out of its secret lock. They would give him a purse stuffed full with gold and place him in the king's gratitude. In every direction went a skilled priest, a shrewd and deeply learned rider. One of the sages, named Azad-Sarv, came from Kasra's court to Merv. He came and searched all through Merv, and found a priest teaching the Zend. He was teaching the children the Zend, sharply, with anger and a loud voice. One child there before him, the finest, was studying the Zend and mastering it. They called him Bozorgmehr, his face marked with the seal of loving devotion to that book. The priest turned his reins from the road, came, and asked the boy about the king's dream. The teacher said, 'This is no task of mine; in every kind of knowledge, the Zend is my helper.' When Bozorgmehr heard the priest speak, he listened closely and his face lit up. He said to the master: this is my prey; reading dreams is my kind of work. The man shouted at him: so you have already mastered your own book of knowledge! The envoy said: wise sir, perhaps he truly knows; do not turn a knowing man away. The teacher grew troubled over Bozorgmehr and said to him: tell what you have in mind. He answered: I will say this to no one but the king, once he seats me before his throne. The envoy gave him a horse and silver coins, and whatever else he needed, great or small. The two set out together from Merv, striding gracefully like a pheasant among the roses. So they went, proud and talking of the king, of his command, his glory, his crown and throne. They reached a place where there was water, when it was time to eat and rest. They stopped beneath a tree, ate something, and caught their breath. Bozorgmehr fell asleep in that shade, a cloth drawn over his face. The noble companion who traveled with him on the road was still awake. He looked and saw a speckled snake that slid the cloth off the sleeping boy. It sniffed him hard from head to foot, then softly left him and went toward the tree. As the black snake climbed up the trunk, the boy woke from his sleep. When the serpent heard him stir, it vanished into the slender branches. The envoy was left in wonder and called on God's name many times. He said to himself: this clever boy will one day rise to great heights. Then they hurried from the thicket back to the road and moved on gracefully toward the king. The envoy went ahead of the boy and stepped swiftly up to Khosrow's throne. He said: king Nushinravan, you are the wakeful sleeper, and your fortune is young. I went from your court to Merv, my king, wandering like a pheasant in a rose garden. Among the students I found a boy; I brought him and hurried back at once. He told the words he had heard from the boy, and the wonder he had seen with the black snake. King Khosrow summoned the boy before him and spoke at length about the dream. When the wise boy heard Nushinravan, his mind filled with words and his tongue grew eloquent. He answered: within your household, among the beauties of your private chambers, there is a young man who has dressed and adorned himself as a woman. Clear that place of the stranger, follow this counsel of ours, so none may find a way in. Order them to pass before you, to walk across the ground so their tracks can be studied. Let us question that reckless intruder, how he dared come to the lion's own pillow. He cleared the palace hall of strangers and locked down the royal court. The lovely women of the king's harem came out, all fragrance, color, and adornment. The jasmine-scented beauties, with grace and modesty, walked gently past Khosrow. They saw no one out of place among them; Khosrow flared up like an enraged lion. The dream-reader said, this is not proper: there is a young man hidden among the women. The reader said, make them walk more slowly, and let them lift their faces from behind the veil of shame. Once again they passed by in front, and all thought the dream a foolish thing. A young man appeared among them, tall as a cypress, with the face of royalty. His body trembled like a willow, his heart despairing of sweet life. There were seventy slave girls in that chamber, each with a body like a free-standing cypress. One was the eldest daughter, from Chaj, tall as a cypress with a bosom of ivory. A jasmine-bodied, musk-scented young man had been dear to her in her father's house. He served her like a slave; wherever she went, he was her own companion. The king asked her: who is this man, and who is it that keeps such a servant? That you should choose such a bold young man to keep inside Nushinravan's own harem. The woman said: he is younger than me, a youth, and we share the same mother. He wore such clothes because, out of awe of the king, he dared not lift his eyes to his face. If my brother hid his face from you, it was out of respect for you; seek no other excuse. When Nushinravan heard these words, the case of both the young people astonished him. Then in a rage he told the executioner: both of these must be buried in the earth. The executioner ran off with the two behind the curtain of King Nushinravan. He hanged them there in the king's harem, upside down, covered in blood, their bodies full of guilt. He gave the dream-reader a purse of gold, and a share of horses and fine garments. The king marveled at his wisdom and took the measure of his words. They entered his name in the royal registry, as a guide and teacher to the priests. The name of Bozorgmehr shone bright, and the turning heavens smiled upon him. Day by day his fortune grew greater, and the stern king's heart was glad in him. The heart of King Khosrow was full of justice, his mind and soul flourishing with knowledge. He kept wise priests at his court, and men of insight skilled in every branch of knowledge. Seventy eloquent men were always present at the court, at rest and at meals. Whenever he was free from the affairs of state, from justice and giving, from wine and the drinking of it, he would ask each priest for some fresh words, and adorn his heart with learning. In those days Bozorgmehr was young, a gifted speaker, a fine minister, handsome of face. It was such that, among those priests and sages, the astronomers and the wise, he learned their knowledge and surpassed them; his mind rose above even those philosophers. It happened one day that the king sat at the feast and commanded, 'Summon these priests.' 'Let them be learned and eager for knowledge, eloquent, alert, and keen of memory.' The clear-hearted priests came forward, sages who had sought out the secret of every science. When the meal was done, they called for cups of wine, and with wine they brightened their bright souls. The wakeful king said to the learned ones, 'Bring your knowledge out from hiding.' 'Whoever carries some wisdom in his heart, let him speak it to me, for it will bring me joy.' Those among them who were wise were bold and able in speaking. They opened their tongues before the king, for here was one who sought out the knowing man. When Bozorgmehr heard these words, he saw the king looking toward knowledge. He offered praise and rose to his feet, and said, 'O just and righteous judge, may the earth be servant to your crown and throne, may the heavens shine from your face and fortune. If you command this servant, and free the speaker from his silence, I will speak, though I am of little worth and stand at the lowest rung of knowledge. It is no fault for one who knows to loosen his tongue before Nushinravan.' Khosrow looked and said to the learned youth, 'Why should knowledge be kept hidden?' The young man showed royalty in his speech, and his words spread light. He said to him: bright of soul is the one who says much in few words. One whose mind is hasty speaks a great deal yet is slow to be understood. When idle talk grows plentiful, the speaker is cheapened in the eyes of others. Seek virtue and do not grieve over gaining more, for the world is a passing inn and we are only travelers. All your brightness lies in honesty; over darkness and crookedness one should weep. Every heart is a slave to its own desire, and each has a nature different from the rest. The source of righteousness is the knowledge of God; once you know it, you fear no evil. The wise and knowing one, bright in spirit: his body belongs to this world, but his soul to the next. Whoever presses to be first in every task keeps scheming and striving for more. Do not wear yourself out chasing what you cannot reach; it only torments the soul and exhausts the body. A person's honesty comes from strength; from weakness come lies and shortcomings. If your soul has no store of knowledge, no ornament suits you better than silence. When you fall in love with your own learning, reason withdraws its judgment from you. Whoever is free of greed is truly rich; happy the servant who has no greed as his partner. Patience is the brother of reason, and reason is like a crown upon the soul. A wise man who is your enemy is better than a friend who is a fool. Whoever learns to be content has grown rich; for him greed and worry have turned to gain. If you stay humble in learning, you will hear wisdom from those who know. If a man's judgment is dazzled by mere talk, no one so dazzled can equal a true man. Whoever lets his knowledge slip away silences his tongue from speaking. When you hold wealth in hand, gold and silver and finely fitted horses, spend as you must, neither too freely nor too tightly. The wise man who keeps clear of his enemies makes their very bodies work for him like hired hands. When a man gives his own self its due, know that he has won the battle. Do not speak words that bring no gain; from such a fire you get nothing but smoke. Do not fret over what cannot happen; no one knows how to stitch iron with water. A king who is wise stays humble, and through knowledge he grows great and powerful. Whoever understands that all is the work of the Creator will rise above the blows of ill fortune. Worshiping the Judge increases your worth and drives the demon's meddling out of the heart. He shuns whatever should not be done, and does not hurt the one who should not be hurt. In the end let us turn to God, for He is the giver of daily bread and the sustainer. At these fine words of Bozorgmehr, every sage's face grew bright. The whole assembly stood amazed that so young a man had reached such greatness. King Kasra was struck with wonder at him, and summoned the giver of daily bread. He ordered that his name be set at the top whenever a record was begun. Among the great ones, the fortune of Bozorgmehr rose like the shining sun in the sky. They rose from before the king of kings and offered him fresh words of praise. They began to question him about what he had said, for his mind and heart were paired with wisdom. The young man opened his sharp tongue, for his heart was pure and his soul was bright. He said: from a just king one should never turn one's head away in doubt, for he is like a shepherd and we are the sheep; if we are the earth, he is the lofty sky. One must not break his covenant, nor twist away from his counsel and command. In his joy we should rejoice, and when we ask for justice from the age, we give it. His virtues are spread across the world, yet all his secrets should be kept hidden. Do not grow bold when he treats you with honor, for even a brave lion's heart fears fire. If a man treats his command lightly, as though it were a mountain, we would call his heart foolish and his mind shallow. All ill and all good come from the king, for chains and dungeon come from him, and so do the crown and the throne. The crowned head carries the divine glory; the wise man is glad and smiling because of him. Whoever is not glad of him belongs to the devil, his heart and mind not enriched by knowledge. They listened to the young man's words, and the old men fell silent before him. The gathering dispersed, their mouths full of praise for him, day and night. The next week the bright-hearted king kept seeking out the man of knowledge. He turned his heart away from the affairs of the world, longing instead to hear the words of the wise. Whoever held high standing at the court, and was worthy of the king in his learning, the eloquent speakers came forward, the young man and the seasoned old ones alike. The proud young Bozorgmehr went in with the sages, his soul luminous. The knowing, sharp-minded sages arrived near the lofty throne. They turned their faces toward Bozorgmehr, whose presence made Khosrow's face light up. One among them was the most learned; he questioned him about fate and destiny, asking: how do such matters turn out in the end, and where does this all finally lead? He answered: one man toils and searches, running day and night, hard at work, yet his path to daily bread stays dark and narrow, and the water in his stream trickles slow. Another, without any skill, sleeps upon fortune's throne while the tree showers roses over him. Such is the law of fate and destiny: no amount of striving can outrun what is allotted. The wise and nurturing Lord of the world shaped the star of our days this way. Another asked: which thing is the greatest, and to whom does abundance rightly belong? He answered: it is the one who knows the most, the one to whom knowledge comes for good ends. Another asked: what is our finest quality, the goodness that best fits this world? He answered: patience, generosity, kindness, and worthy conduct. Above all, to keep your own head humble, and to give without hoping for reward. To strive and search across the world, and to walk in step with your companions when the time is right. Another asked: in a wise man, what is the true virtue at the hour of shame and battle? He said: it is the one who sees his own faults and reforms his ways and beliefs. Another asked: in living, what should you do so the body suffers least? He answered: if the heart is patient along with reason, it will find peace. In giving and taking he acts honestly, and shuts the door on crookedness and fault. He forgives wrongs when he gains the upper hand; he is not hot-tempered or impatient. Another asked: in a gathering, what is a person's best guard over himself? He said: it is one who does not chase his desires away from generosity and good nature. And one who does not grow careless in his work when he sees fortune increase. Another asked: of a good nature's giving, which kind is best on both sides? The kind that bears fruit in both worlds, that brings spring twice each year. He said: it is the one who, having wealth, adorns his soul by giving it away. And if the receiver thanks the giver, know that this is a merchant's trade. Another asked: what is a man's true ornament, and which of the good qualities is most precious? He answered: the generous man, when he does good to one who deserves it, grows like a tall cypress, and once grown, is never brought low. But if you rub the unworthy with musk, no scent will rise, no flower grows from a dry thorn. If you ask words of the mute or a deaf man, it may bear fruit but never come to your bosom. One said: in this passing world, no wise man lives free of pain and hardship. What can we do to win a good name, and reach a good end from the very start? He told him: go, keep far from sin, and wish for the whole world what you wish for yourself. Whatever displeases you, do not bind it upon the body of friend or foe. Another asked: effort beyond measure and thought, which of these two comes first? He answered: to reason, nothing suits better than reflection. You strive when work stands before you, only when you want your labor to bear fruit. Another asked: who deserves praise, and when should one weep over the blameworthy? He said: the one who holds the most hope, and also the most awe and fear, before the pure God. Another asked: you man of bright wisdom, what passes over our heads from the turning sky? Which of my days is the sweetest under this fickle, unsteady wheel of heaven? The wise speaker answered again: whoever has become secure and free of need, to whom the times have dealt fairly and kindly, it is fitting he remember only justice. He asked further: which knowledge in the world makes us glad at heart? He said: the one who is patient and forbearing; before him the shameless man is worthless. Another asked: for one who seeks no harm, which trait is most useful? He said: the one whose brain does not boil with rage, who shuts his eye in anger toward the guilty and lets it rest. Another asked: what is it, O wise one, that pleases the mind of a wise man? He said: the one who is full of wisdom feels no grief over what slips away from him, and if he entrusts a dear one to the earth, he does not bind his pure heart to grief and pain. And likewise the one who cuts his heart free from hope in unseen things, as a willow shakes off the wind. Another asked: what fault in a king darkens the heart of the devout? He answered: the wise say a king has four failings. One is that he fears the enemy in battle; another that his heart is stingy in giving. The third is that he casts aside the counsel of a wise man on the day of honor and combat. The fourth is that his head is too hasty, so he seeks no calm or rest in his affairs. He asked further: who is without flaw, and what is it that brings blame upon noble people? He said: let us divide this rightly, for in this matter life and wisdom hold the throne. For the noble, the faults are trickery and lies, and seeking glory through crookedness and injustice; for the middling warrior, being a faultfinder with a head full of quarrel; a base nature that fixes its desire on the king, needlessly wounding the devout heart; letting the tongue run loose, eyes without the water of shame, and hiding a shout within a soft voice. And a wise person who thinks it right to push wisdom away for the sake of appetite. Another wise man asked: what is it in the world that stays free of harm? He answered: first, the one who has come to know and to seek the pure God, so that your thanks are to Him and your refuge is in Him, the Lord of day and night, of sun and moon. And to surrender your heart, openly and in secret, to the command of the king of the world; to nourish your body in comfort, yet shut its door firmly against toil and greed. To protect your own people, and to spare the poor from their suffering. Hand your child over to learning and wisdom, for the world should not be entrusted to the ignorant. When a son is obedient to command, the father should treat him with kindness. He was asked again: where does a true son stand in his father's eyes? He answered: in his father's eyes, a fortunate son is as precious as life itself. After death his name lives on, and that is why a guide is called his son. He was asked again: about wealth, who do you think keeps his heart in order? He answered: people are honored by their possessions, and also debased by them. First, with wealth you reach your desires, and by having it you show a good nature. But if you cannot use it when the need comes, then stone and royal jewel are all the same. He asked again: among crowned kings of high name, whom do you call truly useful? He answered: the king under whom a careful man feels safe, and whose voice the wicked fear, while the land beneath his throne rests at ease. He asked again: by what is a person truly rich, and who in this world is full of suffering and poor? He said: rich is the one who is content with what the Lord of the high heavens has given him. For one whose fortune brings no share, know there is no evil in the world worse than greed. The great men were left astonished, and with one voice they blessed and praised him. When a week had passed, on the eighth dawn the victorious king took his place on the throne. He summoned those who were wise, skilled in speech and knowledge. Each of them spoke in his own way, yet none of it pleased the king much. Then Khosrow said to Bozorgmehr: lift the veil of shyness from your face. The wise speaker opened his tongue and drew on every kind of knowledge. First he blessed the king: may the crowned head be ever victorious. Then he said: a person does not rise high unless he turns his head away from the path of harm. When you wish to increase your knowledge, you need wisdom to find the right words. In seeking a good name there must be courage, for time grows weary of the coward's heart. And if you seek the throne, you need merit, just as a branch needs greenness and fruit. When people ask about merit, it will not do to answer them by pointing to noble birth. Lineage without merit is worthless and despised; a wise man made this into a parable: if a rose has no scent, do not seek it in its color, for fire never yields a stream of water. A king grows rich through what he gives away; no hidden treasure keeps you standing firm. If you seek virtue through fine speech, know this: it is action that reveals the truth in you. Whoever holds wisdom is humble at heart, and the heavens nurture him in that wisdom. So too a person is glad of heart when the blood of crookedness is cleared from it. Wisdom in this world is like the tree of loyalty, and a king's heart longs to gather its fruit. When you are content, your body finds ease; when you give in to greed, you live in fear of it. Do not do a kindness to someone from whom you will get no reward for that kindness. Fortune befriends the open-hearted; blessed is the one who is patient. Whoever seeks to rise above the rest must bring real skills before this judgment. First, one needs good judgment and knowledge; second, sound and proven experience. Third, he needs a helper when it is time to act, to weigh up both the good and the bad. Fourth, if you hold to your purpose, you will see the end from the very beginning. Fifth, if there is strength in him, and he puts his body to the effort, greatness follows. On each of these matters the word is paired: do not put a skill to work rashly, untested. After that, when your helper is well suited, your need is met at the right time. Without effort, even a strong body cannot bring its desires to fulfillment. But when effort goes beyond all measure, know that the one striving has lost hope. Let me name the five traits of a wise man, habits that bring him no suffering at all. And how the fool makes a habit of seven things, and from those seven he lives in suffering too. First: whoever possesses wisdom feels no grief over what has slipped away from him. He is not overjoyed by what he has not gained, nor does he burn with sorrow if it passes him by. When he finds ease from hardship and harm, he stays wary of what may not last. When difficulty comes at him from any side, he steps forward and never gives in to weakness. As for the fool, we said there are seven ways: first, that he turns his anger on the blameless. He opens his treasure to the undeserving, and gains no reward for it in either world. Third: he is ungrateful to God, and secretly does not know his own true self. Fourth: he tells his secret to anyone at all, and shouts it out at the top of his voice. Fifth: with useless talk he brings pain and harm upon himself. Sixth: he trusts the untrustworthy, seeking silk to be borne on a thorn. Seventh: he digs in stubbornly on a lie, and in shamelessness he looks for glory. Know this, exalted king: from that man no one sees anything but harm. When a man stays silent in a gathering, that silence leaves the heart at peace. Lending your ear to the one who truly knows feeds the body and brings the heart both wisdom and sense. Do not forget the words you have heard, for wise speech is a crown upon the royal throne. If you want your knowledge to bear fruit, unlock your skill through the words you speak. If you want your name spread everywhere, draw your tongue like a sword from its sheath. When you sit with a wise man, the lowly rise above the powerful. Knowledge is the light of soul and heart; take care never to drift toward falsehood. When a speaker begins to speak, let him finish; do not cut in harshly. When the tongue is honest with the heart, it shuts every door to shortcoming. Even from idle talkers you can grow wise, if you do not speak the way you heard them speak. Never think yourself free of the need for knowledge, no matter how hard its pursuit may be. May the heart of King Nushirvan never grow too weary to keep learning. Then the sharp-minded priest asked: What in this world is the finest deed? The deed that gives a man light and frees him from the sorrows of the age. He answered: whoever has wisdom reaps the reward of both worlds. He said: and if a man has no wisdom? Wisdom is a shining robe of honor from God. He answered: knowledge is best; the one who knows stands greatest among the great. He said: and if he never seeks the path of knowledge, his soul will never be cleansed by that water. He answered: a valiant man must count his own head as worth little. If he has strength on the day of battle, he brings the enemy's head down into the dust. He is dear to the king's heart, and lives forever glad and in command. He said: and if he has no share of this, and does not follow the way of inquiry and faith? He answered: better then that death place a dark helmet upon his head. He asked again about the fruit of that tree the wise man plants in his spring garden: What must we do so that everyone may benefit, or that we may walk within its shade? He answered: whoever keeps his tongue from evil, his soul will suffer no pain. He wounds no one's skin with his words, and stays a friend to all who gather with him. Every hard task becomes easy for him, and enemy and friend become the same in his eyes. He said again: the one who turns away from the road of harm is great and worthy of honor. He answered like this: a bad deed is like a tree that bears bad fruit. If someone speaks gently, no harshness will reach his ears. Know that the ear suffers from the tongue; if you don't want to cause pain, weigh your words. Likewise a man who serves the king should speak little and sit only where he belongs, before the throne. He should flee from the evils not yet come, as a bird or beast flees a trap. Third, even if he has the power to do wrong, a truly wise man keeps clear of it. He should not reach for what should not be done, nor hurt one who should not be hurt. He should let no chance for good slip past him, and not count on a day that has not yet arrived. Toward an enemy he is more wary than a hunted creature; toward a friend he is steady as arrow and feather. A joy that ends in sorrow has little worth for the wise. Put aside comfort and laziness; strive, and turn the weariness of your body into a feast. For here no gain comes to you without effort, just as no treasure exists without a guardian. Much was said on this matter, and the heart of the sleeping man woke up. May the world live on through Nooshin-Ravan, forever a ruler and his fortune young. The priests, the margraves, and the alert, wise men called down blessings on him. They praised the king of the world greatly, and each went away in joy. Two more weeks passed for the king, and one day he set aside the affairs of the army. He ordered the priests, the nobles, and the wise men to come gracefully to the palace. The king asked about origin and lineage, about sharpness, calm, culture, and justice. About kingship and the justice of heroes, about the beginning and the good outcome of the stars. He sought discourse from these priests and questioned them on whatever mattered. Then the king said to Bozorgmehr: bring the shining jewel out from its hiding place. Bozorgmehr offered a blessing: O king of bright heart and fair face, know that in this world no king ever set a crown on his head who was like you, in justice and in wisdom, in crown and throne, in glory, in face, in judgment, and in fortune. When a ruler practices restraint, how fine is restraint in one who wears the crown. He fears God at the time of judgment, and does not act out of bias or in the manner of tyrants. The king sets reason above impulse at the moment when anger rises in him. The ruler's thought should be nothing but what pleases the Creator. He knows all good and evil come from God, and seeks paradise as the reward for goodness. A truthful tongue and a heart that seeks respect: through such a one the world keeps its honor. Anyone who has a wise counselor stands light and easy in the gathering. Eloquent, clear of heart, and just, he treats the lowly as lowly and the great as great. No one who serves beneath the king should ever be allowed to be broken anywhere. The king's crown rose high in glory only when the wise were honored at his side. To guard the affairs of the court, and to poison the desires of the ill-wisher. When the ruler is versed in every branch of knowledge, he keeps his divine grace intact. No one who suffers a wrong should go to sleep still hurting, for harm may come to the king from it. Whoever deserves punishment, being of low birth and evil nature, the king should keep far from the company of others, yet without cruelty, so he is not worn down by him. Whoever sits in the king's prison, be he guilty or an innocent man, must be freed by God's command; strike the one who is guilty and set free the one who is not, and remember what each has done. The commander keeps his army by good conduct, and gives rest from pain to those who cry for justice. When you stay alert against the enemy, the heart of the schemer loses its footing. You seal every breach in the kingdom in good time, before the battle even begins. In anything that brings the king into disgrace, that disgrace touches his glory and his throne as well. To turn away from such a thing against your own desire, and to call reason as witness to that choice. To grow in love toward your child is like seeing your own face reflected in water. It is fitting to learn manners and knowledge, so that your heart may find its light. Open your treasury to him and do not let him ever feel his hardship. Whenever he reaches out his hand to a wrong deed, the king should not break the child's heart. When the hand of the wrongdoer stretches out, do not turn to shedding blood except by God's command. And if you find enmity in his heart, tear him out of the garden like a weed. For if he is left too long he grows strong, and through him the garden of kingship fills with harm. When the world-seeker has glory and wisdom, he must not lend his ear to slanderers. From a minister of evil nature and evil speech, ruin comes to the royal crown. Do not listen to the words of the ignorant; when he speaks against justice, do not obey his command. Everything should be set right and true; the demon must never be allowed to bring decline. When the wise and pious hears these words, he makes reason the ruler over his heart. The crown will bless the king, and the throne of kingship will stand firm through him. The crown and throne take pride in him, while the ill-wisher loses all hope of fortune. When this unsteady wheel of fate turns, a good name will remain of him as a keepsake. May the soul of Nushirvan, so full of virtue, stay young for as long as the day exists. The gathering was astonished by his words, and the judgment of all the wise men was outshone. When Nushirvan heard these words, he raised the young man's daily allowance ever higher. Those counsels brought tears to his eyes and filled his mouth with sweet, lustrous pearls of speech. A whole assembly, their lips full of praise, departed from the palace of the king of the earth. A week of days passed by like this, and on the eighth, when the light of the world blazed up, it cast off the dark blue veil of night and adorned the world in golden brocade. The king of kings sat down with the priests, the world-seasoned nobles who had proven themselves in action. The chief priest of priests, Ardeshir, along with Shapur and the scribe Yazdgerd, the astrologers and seekers of truth, the wise and clear-minded speakers. The young orator Bozorgmehr came before Nushirvan the king. The king of the world said to the learned men: with whom lies this hidden knowledge, through which the faith of God grows strong and the royal throne is freed of flaw? When the chief priest of priests heard this, he opened his lips from among the nobles, and answered thus: through the king's justice, the glory of crown and throne shines bright. When with justice he unlocks his treasury, his name lives on, lofty, after his death. Second, one who washes his tongue of lies and does not seek the light of the world through crookedness. When a commander is just and merciful, the age lies at peace under his crown. Third, that when a guilty subordinate apologizes, the king forgives him again. Fourth, the ruler with fair speech, whose name does not grow old in the world. He always speaks the truth, in matters great and small, and never turns from his own principles for any task. Fifth, he holds the same love for the servant of his throne as he does for his own good fortune. Sixth, in speech, whoever is wise, his tongue is capable of expressing his knowledge. His heart never tires of learning, though thought may burn the very mind with its fire. Every person is set free by wisdom, just as one grows and flourishes under a good star. Do not cut your heart from wisdom, generous king; wisdom nurtures both good name and good ending. Base in spirit and poor in knowledge is the one who says: I will make myself so great that none in the world is my equal. Then the scribe Yazdgerd spoke thus: O wise king, receptive to knowledge, For a king to spill blood is a shameful thing, to let his heart be swayed by a few words of gossip. And when a ruler is thoughtless and rash, the schemer finds his chance to act. He picks a fight with the wise, and sharpens his heart out of pure ignorance. When the heart of the world's king fills with greed, his soul takes the demon as its partner. And likewise, if a governor is hot-headed, no fine work will ever come from his commands. Then there is the soldier who, at the hour of battle, fears for his life but does not fear disgrace. The rich man whose heart is narrow and grasping, the belly of the earth would hide him better. When a poor man acts as though he were a hero, he is neither a fit underling nor worthy of high rank. When an old man does wrong, it is ugly to see; after death his soul will be full of fire. When a young man is lazy in his work, the heart of the age grows weary of him. If a youth loses his health, may he have neither strength nor spirit left. When Bozorgmehr had heard these fine words and adorned his mind with knowledge, he said to the king with the sun-bright face: May the shining heavens turn as you desire. Know this: whoever possesses wisdom nourishes his soul with knowledge. There are ten blameworthy failings in ten kinds of people, most blameworthy in the eyes of the seeker of knowledge. First, the ruler who deals in lies: he holds no radiance before the wise man. Second, the commander who guards the treasury, or the soldier who turns his back on hardship. Next, the scholar who does not fear sin whenever something pleasant tempts him. The physician who is himself sick in body: how can he keep harm away from the patient? Then the poor man who boasts of some possession that is not even worth mentioning. And the base man who begrudges everyone their peace and sleep, even clear water from the sea. Yet if the sweet breeze blows a favor your way, he will pile the credit for it onto his own head. Seventh, the wise man who, when he grows angry, fixes both his eyes on other people's belongings. Eighth, showing the way to a fool, or handing over the workshop to a lazy person. And the witless one who never finds wisdom, yet regrets his own bad words too late. The heart of the foolish man clings to desire in just this way, my good-natured one. Like fire that finds sulfur to feed on, when it is nursed within a reed-bed. May the heart of Nushin-Ravan live long, and may the great lords of the world be his servants. A week of that month passed like this as well, and the victorious king took his place upon the throne. On one side sat the priest who was his minister, and on the other Yazdgerd the scribe. The priests gathered all around him, and among them spoke young Bozorgmehr. Then the king said to Bozorgmehr: 'You who are full of knowledge and goodwill, words that benefit the soul can raise even a worthless man to greatness.' A speaking treasure loses nothing by being shared; listening brings a man joy. The chief priest said to Bozorgmehr: 'You who are more renowned than the heroes of the heavens, what is it that harms you when you have more of it, and helps you grow when you have less?' He answered: 'Eat less; your body will feel at ease and your soul will thrive. But when it comes to good deeds, do more, and in that contest you will lead the field.' Then Yazdgerd the scribe spoke: 'You who are eloquent and quick to learn, what are the three faults a heart secretly holds, yet everyone claims to be free of them?' He answered: 'First of all, you must wash your heart clean of the habit of finding fault in others. No one in this world is without flaw, whether it shows openly or stays hidden. When someone is greater than you, you feel envy; when someone is lesser, you shed tears of scorn over them. The third is the tale-bearer and the two-faced man, who stir up dust even from still water.' Like a speaker who talks out of place: he speaks, and his glory and standing slip away from him. And the one who will not listen to a matter through to the end understands nothing and believes nothing. The wise man sets no hopes on a thing that, once lost, would twist him with rage. Then the chief of the priests asked: 'What stands higher than the knowledge of the wise? No one in the world is without longing, whether it is open or concealed. And that longing has its own visible path, which reveals a man's true means and standing. Which road proves useful to you, and which brings pain, hardship, and harm?' He answered: 'The road runs two ways; your crossing depends on what you long for. One way is the return from this world to the dust, a long road full of fear and dread. Reason will be your guide in this matter, through the why and how of such questions. Reason is a robe of honor from God; look and see who deserves that robe. A strong body without reason as its companion has no buyer anywhere in the world. Where there is no reason, it is as if there is no soul at all; reason is the pure soul, and God is its witness. Once a man has learned the foundations of manhood, he rises high in honor and in battle. Of all knowledge, first turn toward God, who is and always will remain. Believe in Him, and you will find your heart's desire; you will reach the place you hurried toward.' Another kind of knowledge is this: to earn your food and gather what is worth gathering. Eat and dress, but turn your heart to God; in this way keep to God's command. If one day you find yourself in need, do not boast of your fields, your treasure, or your elephants. Of all trades, choose the one whose name will never stain your honor. Build a strong friendship with someone who will help you in hard times. In a gathering, choose silence if you want everyone to praise you. When you speak, say only what you have learned, what you burned your soul to master. Weigh your words, not your coins and treasure, for to a man of knowledge wealth is a small thing. Be alert when you speak; make your mind the bow and your words the arrow. When battle comes to you, stay sharp and guard your body against the enemy. When your foe draws up his line before you, keep your judgment steady and your calm. When you face an equal in combat, do not let your face go pale with fear. You win if you strike first; your head is brought low if you falter. When you spur your horse, stay clear headed and keep an eye on your rival's weapon. If the fight grows fierce, do not turn away; in battle choose alert companions. But if you know you cannot match him, do not push on; keep your wits and pull back from the fight. In the same way keep your body fit for eating; let nourishment not turn to harm. Eat in a way that does no harm; too much food will not make you stronger. Do not overload yourself with food from every side; eat so that appetite still returns to you. With wine, too, keep to a joy that is measured, for no one praises a drunken man. When you please God, you are worthy: the world is like a body, and you are its eye. Remember the Creator often; build your worship on that remembrance. Keep careful track of the times: for work by day, for rest by night. Since you know you were shaped from dust, do not forget the way of the pure God. Do not make worship less than eating; stay fresh, even if the world is old. Lean toward good and count each gift; give thanks for all of it to the Creator. Never circle around evil in any way; turn to good, if you are wise. The most praised person in the world is the one whose goodness is the same in the open and in secret. Do not put desire ahead of judgment and reason, for after that reason will not look your way. If you want your effort to bear fruit, never turn your head away from your teachers. Teach your child the craft of the scribe, for as long as you and your kin exist it is a true asset. The scribe's art lifts a young man to the throne; it makes the unworthy worthy of good fortune. Of all the trades the scribe's is the most honored, for by it a fallen man is raised high. When a scribe has both skill and sound judgment, he inevitably takes a seat beside the king. He guards his body from hardship, and gains boundless treasure from the king. When eloquence joins with a fine hand, his thought grows richer in meaning. From words he chooses the briefest, and in writing he shows what is most pleasing. A scribe should be wise, patient, and quick to remember what is said. Alert and fitting for the king, his tongue silent from evil, his body chaste. Enduring, learned, truthful, loyal, pure, and bright of face. When he comes before the king with these virtues, it is fitting that he sit nowhere but in the place of honor. When the king heard these words from him, his heart bloomed fresh like a flower in spring. Khosrow said to the chief priest: Go and prepare a new rank for him. Ask for money and a robe of honor worthy of him, for his words have settled in my heart. The next week, when the sun raised its crown, he came and sat upon the ivory throne. Together with famed priests and nobles, world rulers and clear-minded sages. The world ruling king summoned them, and also the fortunate scribe of the army. And from the philosophers and the great men, experienced leaders from every land. Along with Saveh and Yazdgerd the scribe, and before them the sharp minded Bahman. Then the king said to Bozorgmehr: Open your heart and show me the way. Tell me all the truth you know; do not seek honor in the world through crookedness. How should my command be served, my judgment and my covenant upheld? When these great ones learn of it in the world, they will repeat what they heard to their companions. The clear minded man spoke thus to the king: You who stand higher than the azure dome, in serving the king of the earth, a wise man seeks nothing but the path of faith. There should be no delay in the kings' command, and the king's heart should never be made anxious. Whoever is an enemy to the king, his soul is a servant of the devil. A heart that does not hold the king dear, better it had neither core nor skin. Know that the king is the peace of the world; when we do good, he grants us the means. He has the power over both good and ill, yet he does not reach out for vengeance or to shame anyone. Do not set your own child above the king; keep his counsel in your heart as dear as life. In a city where the king's love reigns, no need or want can find its way. Through his glory, misfortune passes over you, for his fortune nurtures nothing but good. The world's heart smiles because of the king, for on his face shines the divine grace. When you enjoy his bounty, strive always to keep your ear ready for his command. If in your thoughts you turn away from him, fortune will never look on you kindly. When he keeps you close, do not grow proud; and if he sends you far, do not turn wicked. If a servant suffers hardship from the king, remember that with hardship come honor and treasure. He must not grow tired of his duties, nor turn sharp at a single cold word. If a servant's power grows great through the glory and name of the world ruling king, and if the king asks a tax of one in ten, that is fair; it should be done as he wishes. The one most dear to the king is he who, when he sees his own power growing, gives back to the treasury what he has, so no grief or trouble touches the crown. Whatever remains comes from God as a blessing; the man who knows God gives thanks and praise. And further, he keeps the king's secret in his heart and tells it not to sun or moon. Whoever grows slack in obeying the king's command only brings ruin upon himself. Blamed is the blossom of that tree which scatters no fruit upon the crown and throne. Do not speak ill of his people before him, or you will lessen your own standing with him. And if he asks, do not tell everything you know; do not lose your dignity through too much talk. Anyone who tells many lies gains no radiance in the presence of kings. Words that do not fit with reason, take care not to lay them before the king. There is more knowledge in the world than the ear has ever heard, open or hidden. The one whom the king of the world has disgraced keeps his soul forever filled with pain. The truly honored one in the world is he at whom the king's lips smile. When the king favors you, do not act arrogant, even if you have served him long. However long your service lasts, know this: he has no need of you. If he grows angry with you over something, turn to apology and do not utter a word. If he raises up another the same way, that one, no doubt, becomes a servant like you. And if you are unaware of the fault, carry your heart bared before the king. Otherwise, hold no resentment in your heart; do not show him your face, and cut your path away. In splendor he will see through you and read your hidden self: your crooked heart, your clouded soul. After that you will find no kindness from him, and never hear his warm words again. Think of a king as a sea: the servant is the sailor, and skill is the ship. Speech is the anchor, wisdom the sail; that is how a wise man crosses the sea. He turns that very sail into a shade, one that gives both shelter and substance. Someone whose soul lacks wisdom would do well not to enter a king's service. Even if the king were a mountain of fire, life could still be sweet for his servant. Fire burns and scorches in anger, but glows bright and warm when pleased. One moment it brings milk and honey; the next, like a stinging poison. A king's work is like the sea; at his command the moon shines from the sky. From the sea, one man scoops only sand in his palm, while another finds pearls in their shells. Long live the world under Nushin-Ravan; may Saturn forever move at his command. Khosrow watched and listened to the reciter, and his heart grew glad at the sight of him. Whenever the king said 'well done,' four purses would be given; such was his bounty. When he said 'bravo, splendid,' forty purses of coins would come from his treasury. When the treasurer settled accounts with the king, each purse held ten thousand silver coins. The king of kings kept saying 'bravo, splendid,' and each word he spoke was matched with coins. The radiant treasurer brought the coins in purses and set them before Bozorgmehr. On this tale I built my words, and turned to the story of Mahbud the minister. Never rest for a moment from learning, and never let your heart doubt knowledge. When you say, 'I have paid wisdom's full price, I have learned all I needed to learn,' Fate plays a clever trick and sits you down again before a teacher. Now hear this tale from the storyteller, who recites it from the words of old.

The priest said: on the ivory throne, no one has ever set the crown like Kasra. In feasting, in war, in temperance and justice, no king in memory can match him. He learned knowledge from those who knew, and lit up his heart with wisdom. He ate and slept among the wise priests, always lifting his mind toward knowledge. Since through knowing your words gain worth, never grow lazy about learning. You must not say, I have become wise, and can now do whatever I desire. When you hear this tale, take it to heart, from the words of the old village storyteller. I asked about the ancient days, and he recalled this tale of Nushirvan the Just. He had one honest minister, clear of heart and keeper of the treasury. He had a mind full of wisdom and sound judgment; in this world he sought nothing but a good name. That pure spirit was named Mahbud, his soul and heart full of graceful speech. He had two sons, fresh as bright spring, always in the king's service. Whenever the king held a feast, or called for the priestly rites, he would eat nothing except from Mahbud's hand, and trusted those two sons as well. He kept his kitchen in Mahbud's house, and made himself a guest of his table. The two sons of that famous devout man prepared the food for the king. The nobles grew envious of Mahbud, and shed tears of resentment upon their cheeks. There was a famous man named Zarvan, who held favor at the king's court. He was old and the king's chamberlain, one who kept the customs of the court shining. Because of Mahbud and his two blessed sons, he was left burning with wounded pride all year. He kept scheming to turn the king's mind sharp and hostile against that devout man. He slandered them but found no opening to poison the king's heart against them. The wise Mahbud had no idea he had an enemy at the court. Not once did the words or deeds of that shameless man make Mahbud's face turn pale. It happened one day that a Jewish man came to Zarvan asking for money at interest. His visits to Zarvan grew frequent, and he entangled himself with that man's evil soul. When he had grown familiar with the king's chamberlain, he became a servant of the royal palace. One day, in secret, talk turned to spells, about the court and the king of the world, about trickery, deceit and sorcery, about crooked deeds and wickedness. When Zarvan considered the Jewish man's words and heard him speak in such a way, He unlocked the secret and said: reveal this to no one but your own heart. You must devise a plan to rid the world of Mahbud. For his greatness has reached such a height that fate can no longer bear it. No one on earth counts for anything in his eyes; you would think there was only Nushirvan and no one else. The king will accept no food at all except from the hands of Mahbud's sons. So swollen with pride has he grown from royal favor that fate itself kisses the hem of his robe. The Jew answered Zarvan like this: over this matter you need not multiply your grief. When the mighty king asks for his meal, watch the dishes and see what comes along the way. See whether there is any milk in it; go up and smell the food. It is enough that I glimpse the milk from afar, and you will see neither Mahbud nor his sons alive. For if he eats from it, without doubt his face and his body will crumble away at once. Zarvan considered his words, and his heart grew fresher at the sight of him. He would not go to the court without that Jew; no meal, no joy, no pleasure was complete without him. So it went on for some while, the corrupter creeping about the king's court. Every morning Mahbud's two sons walked gracefully before the generous king. Behind the curtain of the renowned steward was a woman, pure and pure of mind. Whenever King Khosrow wanted food, she would set out a golden tray. She placed three jeweled bowls upon it, covered over with a cloth of gold brocade. From the hands of that noble man's two sons it reached the exalted king. He would eat the dishes of honey, milk, and rosewater, then have his bed made ready. It happened that one day the two young men carried the tray to Nushirvan. A servant carried it on his head, one to whom the food was entrusted. As the tray came into the king's hall, Zarvan the chamberlain looked at it. Smiling, he said to the two young men: you who feel so safe from King Nushirvan, show me this food that is meant to nourish the king. What color is this that gives off such sweet fragrance? Draw back a silk cover from it. The young man quickly uncovered the food; Zarvan watched it from a distance. The Jew likewise stared at it, then, when he saw the color of the dishes, he stepped forward. Then he said to the steward of the court: the tree you planted has come to fruit. The two wise and alert young men carried the tray to Nushirvan. Then the table was brought, and Zarvan moved swift as dust; he spoke to the king, that noble man: 'O king of good fortune and justice, do not eat before the food is tasted, for the face of heaven smiles on your luck, and the world shines bright from your throne and your field of power.' The cook had mixed poison into the milk; may that poison be the portion of every scheming enemy. When King Nushirvan heard this, he looked closely at the two young men, whose own mother was his cook, wise, and devoted to their well-being. The young men, out of purity and honesty, rolled back their sleeves to the backs of their hands. The moment they drank the milk from the bowl, it was as if both were struck by arrows. Both young men collapsed on the spot and gave up their lives before Nushirvan. When the king of the world saw this, he flew into a rage and turned pale as a withered flower. He commanded: 'Level Mahbud's house to the ground, and fear no one. On that rubble his head must be cut off, both Mahbud's and the cook's alike.' No one was left in Mahbud's palace; scarcely any of his kin remained in the world. He gave all that wealth to plunder: the women, the children, and the well-appointed treasure. By this deed Zarvan reached his desire; at that hour he gained both his wish and a name. The proud Jew came to him, raising his head high as the clouds. The heavens turned on for a while, keeping the truth hidden from the king's sight. It happened that the king, lord of the world, set his mind on hunting wild asses. He ordered that many of the hunting horses be paraded before the king. Among the horses that Khosrow was surveying, he saw one bearing Mahbud's brand. At the sight of those Arabian horses his heart flared up, and his love for Mahbud burned within him again. In grief he let tears pour from both eyes, and remembered Mahbud with a sorely wounded heart. He said: 'That man of high rank and wisdom, some foul demon carried him off from his place. With all that devotion and that honesty, why did his soul turn to treachery? No one but the Creator of the world knows the truth hidden beneath what seemed so plain.' From there he rode on toward the hunting ground, his heart still grieving and thirsting for vengeance. Along the way he asked each person for their words, and cheered his heart with what they said. He kept many storytellers with him and shortened the road with their tales. The scribes, Zarvan, and the king's minister one day set out briskly on the road. Talk turned for a time to spells and snares, to sorcery, and to the harm the devil does. Then the king spoke to the priest: Do not trouble your heart with sorcery. Speak only of God and of faith; seek no wonders in a magician's tricks. Zarvan said to him: May you live forever; your words are nourishment for the mind. Whatever they say about magic is real, but only the sorcerer's devotee truly knows it. If he has milk for someone to drink, from a distance he can turn it into poison. When Nushin-Ravan heard these words, the old days came fresh before him again. He remembered Mahbud and his two sons, and a cold sigh escaped his lips. He looked at Zarvan and fell silent; he urged his swift, steady steed onward. His soul was thick with dark thoughts: that Zarvan had been the enemy of Mahbud. He kept saying: this quarrelsome man, I do not know what he did back in those days, so that Mahbud was killed by my hand, and that household's fortune was overturned. Perhaps the Creator will bring it to light and ease our heart and our mind. For I see his words stained with guilt, and I am full of grief from those old days. He rode on with a heart full of pain and sorrow, his face wrinkled, his eyes wet with tears. When the king reached the halting place, he pitched his tent by the edge of the stream. When Zarvan came into the royal tent, they cleared the place of all outsiders. There was talk of magic, of honey and milk; the king told him: this matter is now agreeable to me. Then the king asked him about Mahbud, and about his sons, why they had been ruined. When he heard the answer, trembling and shaking, Zarvan's guilt became plain. Khosrow said to him: tell the truth; do not twist things or look for any excuse. For crookedness brings nothing but evil deeds; a good heart is corrupted by a bad companion. Zarvan told the whole truth from start to finish; he brought what was hidden out into the open. He threw all the blame onto the Jew, and filled his own body with pain and anguish. When the exalted king heard this from him, at once he put him in chains. He sent a rider on twin horses, swift as smoke, to the trickster Jew. When the man came to that lofty court, the great king questioned him gently: Tell me how this affair happened; do not show me the face of a single lie. The Jew begged the king for mercy, promising to reveal the true secret of the trick. He told what Zarvan had said to him, every word that had passed in secret. The king listened and was stunned; he summoned the chief priest and the marshal of the marches. Once again the just king turned to the priests and asked to hear the case set out. He ordered two tall gallows raised, with twisting nooses hanging down from each. The executioner set to work before his gate, while all the kingdom stood and watched. On one gallows Zarvan, on the other the Jew; the hangman drew tight and did his grim work. Under a rain of stones and a rain of arrows they gave up their lives for their lion's deceit. The world should not be entrusted to evil, for the evil-minded surely meet with evil. He searched among Mahbud's kin for a while, to find some who were sound and honest. He found one veiled daughter and three worthy men of good character. He handed them all of Zarvan's treasure, and everything else the Jew had owned. His soul burned with grief for Mahbud; from dark night till day he wept. He begged God for mercy and forgiveness, pouring the blood of his heart out at his side. He gave much to the poor, and his tongue was full of praise as well, praying that God might pardon his sin, and not call him an oppressor but a just man. Whoever is pure and worships God will never stretch his hand to an evil deed. For although doing wrong is easy, in the end the soul is left in terror of it. Even if an evil heart turns to hard stone, it will not stay hidden; it comes to light. And however softly you speak, all your secrets will still escape. The tongue does not keep a person's secrets, so it is better to do good in the world. If you live free of guilt and clean in intent, you will reap its reward in both worlds. Now the affair of Zarvan and the Jew is ended; let us praise wisdom instead. If you are just and hold your head high, you will pass, but your name will endure long. An unjust king brings his own body nothing but the grave and men's curses. If your heart makes honesty its craft, know that you have adorned the whole world. If you want to be praised after your death, let wisdom be your crown and your helmet. Just as after the death of Nushirvan his justice was made young again by my words. Once the world was set right under him, he asked for nothing in his greatness but blessings. Small and great slept safely on the plain, and sheep and wolf came to drink together. The great honored even the lowest, and asked that his name be set upon the crown. Necks rested, freed from the weight of mail; the warriors loosened the knots of their armor. Shoulders were relieved of mace and dagger, and nothing reached the ear but the sound of music. No one had the strength to stand against the world ruler; everyone bound themselves to him with tribute and tax. The king took hardship lightly and turned to the pleasures of hunting and the open field. He sat in his jewel painted palace, taking counsel over wine with his cup companions. He built a city in the Byzantine style, more than two leagues in the height of its walls. Within it were palaces, halls, and gardens; a river on one side, a meadow on the other. There was a royal quarter in the Byzantine fashion that Khosrow himself measured out and apportioned. He raised up lofty palaces there, and no one in the world found them anything but pleasing. The king built one great palace, and within it a hall painted with jewels. The arches were set with beams of silver and gold, and among the gold were gems of many kinds. A dome of ebony and ivory, its designs made of ivory, black wood, and teak. From Byzantium and India, whoever was a master craftsman, and had learned the arts from his own master, and from Iran and the land of the southwest, all the skilled workers who brighten the world, he gathered them all in that city, so that it was both a city and a workplace. The captives he had brought from Berber lands, from Byzantium, and everywhere he had raided, he gave each of them a house, filling the whole city with these foreigners. Once the city was completely laid out, they built the countryside all around it. He arranged farmland on every side, fertile ground and orchards bearing fruit. He gave each person a task, and where one worked alone, he sent a helper. One was a craftsman, another a farmer; another measured out the leagues and boundaries of the land. Merchant and worshipper of God alike, one raised high and another set beneath. He made that city as lovely as paradise; the eye found no ugly spot anywhere in it. Khosrow named it Surestan, the place of feasting, for in feasting the ruler finds his desire. Nothing filled his heart, in the open or in secret, but justice and making the world prosper. When fate took the kingship from him, it handed the whole crown to someone else. Know that all of it is nothing but a deception; neither height nor lowness stays with anyone. Now take up the war of the Khaqan and the Hephthalites; when battle comes, take hold of the mace. What does the eloquent teller of praises say of the king, the Hephthalites, and the Khaqan of China?

The noble old landholder spoke like this: remember every word you hear from him. Among the famous men of glory and justice, among warriors of high lineage and splendor, there was no greater lord than the Khaqan of China, none in all the world surpassing Khosrow. From China all the way to the banks of the Oxus, men praised him and blessed his justice. That commander, with his army, treasure, and crown, held the region of Chaj along the Golzariyun river. Khosrow's fame spread across the world, scattered among the great lords: his courage, his wisdom, his royal glory, his greatness and the ways of a king of kings. The wise Khaqan, in that age, sought friendship with the king. For some time he sat with his counselors; all the notables gathered together. He looked for a way to secure that friendship, and sought advice from his priests and sages. Then he prepared countless gifts, all chosen as befitting a king's court: Chinese horses and Chinese brocade, thrones and crowns, swords and signet rings. He loaded onto camels the rarest treasures of every kind to be found in China. For the ceremonial offering, he ordered his treasurer to bring thirty thousand Chinese gold coins. He brought them and joined them to the gifts, and loaded the rest of the camels with more gold. He chose an eloquent man from among the notables, wise and well traveled through the world. He ordered a scribe to come before him to write a letter from the Khaqan on silk. They wrote it in the manner of Chinese painting, to the king, with a hundred thousand blessings. The envoy's road ran through Hephthalite land, a road lined all the way with swords and maces. From Sughd all the way to the Oxus, an army stood in ranks under the Hephthalite king. The hero named Ghatfar was their leader, renowned among them in battle. When he learned of the Khaqan of China's move, and of the gifts to the king of the earth, he summoned the seasoned men of his army and laid out the whole matter before them. Ghatfar spoke to his proud chieftains: 'Our fortune has turned against us.' 'If the king of Iran and the Khaqan of China make peace and bless each other from the heart,' 'this friendship spells danger for us; by it our own city will be laid to ruin.' 'We must launch a raid and clear the world of this envoy.' He chose a famous man from the army, a proud warrior, just as was fitting. He gave over all the treasure to be plundered, the camels and the finely adorned horses. They cut off the envoy's head and cast it down; not a single Chinese Turkish rider escaped. When word reached the Khan of China, his heart filled with pain and his head with vengeance. He marched his army from Qajghar Bashi; not one famous warrior was left in China or Khotan. Of the kin of Arjasp and Afrasiab, not a single man rested or slept. They all set out together for the Gulzariun River, every head full of rage and every heart full of blood. The commander of the Khan's army was Sanja; he raised dust from the earth up to the sky. From the surging of the horsemen at Chach, the waters of the Gulzariun turned red as blood. When Ghatfar learned of these tidings, that the Khan of China had laid such foundations, he chose an army from the Hephthalites so vast that the sun vanished from the world. From Balkh, Shughnan, Amuy and Zam he summoned weapons, troops, and treasures of coin. From Suman, Termez and Wisagird an army rose up, dust from every direction. From mountain and desert, from sand and stony ground, the host swarmed like ants and locusts. When the Khan crossed the river at Berk, you would think the sky was raining swords. He gathered his troops at Mai and Margh; the sun went black like the wing of a falcon. From so many spears and dark blue blades, and the flashing of banners of every kind, Bukhara was full of dust and maces, for it was the camp of the Hephthalite king. Ghatfar advanced with an army like a mountain, a host he had drawn together from the Hephthalites. When the armies pressed in close from every side, so tight that they closed off the wind's own road, with the flashing of the chieftains' swords and the swinging of heavy maces, you would think iron had grown a tongue, and the air had made itself the interpreter of the mace. A wind rose up and a black dust; the light left the sun and the moon. The people of Kushan and Sughd gathered, children, men, and women with faces wet with tears, wondering how that battlefield would turn out, and to whom the turning sun and moon would grant victory. For a whole week those warring armies had faced one another head to head. Everywhere the slain lay heaped up; from blood the earth and stones had turned crimson. From so many spears, maces, clubs and swords, you would think stones were raining from the clouds. The sun was hidden within the dust; the flying eagle's eyes were filled with grit. On the eighth day the tide turned against Ghatfar; the world went black like a lapis night. A defeat fell upon the Hephthalites, a defeat that would not be mended for years. They saw no way out, and each of them who survived called the name of God in his heart. The wounded lay scattered on every side; the whole frontier was full of the slain and the captured. They kept fighting, this side against that, and never had we seen such stubborn resistance. That army seemed not to be human at all; you could hardly bear to look at them. In face they were all demons and beasts, in heart far removed from any thought of good or evil. From javelin and spear, from mace and sword, you would think they knew no way to flee. They all had the faces of dragons, and lifted their spears up into the clouds. Their claws were like a leopard's; you would say their hearts never grew tired of war. They took no saddle from their horses; they slept and lay right there on the snow. Their mounts fed only on thorns, and while one rider slept, two stayed awake. We have no power to withstand the Khan of China; we must cross into the land of Iran. If it happens that Ghatfar obeys, and binds his belt in service to Kasra, he will hand over the city of the Hephthalites to him and forget his mace and battle-club. Otherwise, from the line of Khoshnavaz we will choose a proud and mighty warrior, one who will be glad to serve Nushirvan, so that through him old fortune grows young again. Tell him of the deeds of the Khan of China, and a whole world will call down blessings on him, for he has glory, stature, generosity, and wisdom, and his wisdom nurtures what is just. He has laid tribute and tax on the Caesars; no one has the strength or force to stand against him. The Hephthalites, child and man and woman, all gathered together on this single decision. There was a lord of Chaghan of noble birth, a world-seeker full of knowledge, generosity, and justice, wise, and his name was Faghanish; he had his own treasury and his own army. The nobles of the Hephthalites and the Khan of China called down blessings on him as king. Then word reached the great king that the Khan had become a mighty and renowned figure, and of the Hephthalites and the heroes of that assembly, that defeat had come upon them from the Khan, and of the king of Chaghan, who with new fortune had come and taken his seat upon a new throne. The king of the world sat lost in thought at the report of his alert scouts. He arranged a place to sit in his palace, and the king-serving heroes came forward. Along with the high priest of priests, Ardeshir, and men like Shapur and Yazdgerd the scribe, and the wise men who showed the way, they all sat together before the king's throne. Kasra spoke thus: O wise ones, you who have traveled the world and seen its affairs, my counselors, I have received unwelcome news, words that are ugly and of no benefit, about the Hephthalites, the Turks, and the Khan of China, and about those frontier lords of the land of Turan. Countless armies gathered together, from Chach, from China, from the Turks, and from Khotan. For a full week the Hephthalites, the Turks, and the Chinese never lifted a single saddle from their horses. In the end the Hephthalites were beaten back; two thirds of them lay wounded or dead. And this despite the fame of the Hephthalites, a whole world bristling with maces and clubs. It is astonishing that defeat fell upon them. May no commander ever be so poor in judgment. Had Ghatfar possessed a name worth having and sound counsel, the turning heaven would not have driven that army from its ground. When the land of the Hephthalites was thrown into turmoil, they sought out someone from the line of Bahram Gur. They set up a new king in a new fashion and hailed him on the throne with praise. The Khan has settled there beyond Chach, holding his head high with army, treasure, and crown. Kinsmen of Arjasp and Afrasiab, they dream of nothing but seizing the land of Iran. Emboldened by the defeat of Ghatfar's army, the Khan lifts his head up to the sun. It would be fitting if we did not agree, lest the Khan tell himself such a tale: That the land is now his kingdom, the land that once gave the Chinese their backing and support. All their subjects suffer under them, having handed over their women, men, and wealth. What do you all see now in this matter? What shall we do about the Turks and the Khan of China? The wise nobles rose to their feet and prepared their answer to him. With one voice they all praised him: 'O king of good fortune and pure faith, the whole land of the Hephthalites is devilish; they are two faced and enemies of this land. Whatever evil befalls them, they deserve it; and from the king a good and just word is fitting. Even if there were no old grudge or grievance against them, there is still the blood of that noble, freeborn king. They killed Piruz all at once, a sovereign who was the lamp of the world. May they never know a single day of joy, for justice never springs from injustice. Such is the retribution of the just: the evildoer's own evil comes down upon his head. If the king should speak of the Khan, saying he keeps in his heart an ancient grudge and grief, it is fitting, for as a kinsman of Afrasiab, ill-taught by his line, his two eyes are full of tears of spite. And now that he has won, he has grown bold; if you fear him, that would be no surprise. But of the Hephthalites and Ghatfar's army, give them no thought and grieve not over them. As for the kinsmen of Arjasp and Afrasiab, and the Khan who has settled on the far side of the river, settle their affair with a clear and steady soul; you are the proud, head-held-high king of the world. From you soul and reason take their light. Blessed is the one who nourishes the soul.' You are wiser than the whole assembly; you need no sage or counselor. The crown and throne of the world suit you, for you have glory, greatness, wisdom, and good fortune. If the king marches toward Khorasan, this kingdom will be left in fear. As soon as our land is seen without a king, at any moment an army may come from Rome. They will take revenge on the Iranians, and nothing will be left of the land of Iran. No one has ever set foot on Iran's soil, nor spoken ill of this kingdom. If the king's mind is set on vengeance and war, even the sea dragon grows tame before him. When the ruler heard the Iranians speak of feasting, of quarrel, and of battle, no one had any desire for the dust of combat; they had grown used to feasting and ease. The king, the master of the world, understood what lay in the hearts of the wise. He answered thus: I give thanks to God, of whom I am in awe in both worlds, for these men have sought only sleep and food; they have forgotten the dust of war. Ease and the banquet hall have weighed you down, so that you turn your heads away from the battlefield. Whoever endures hardship will find comfort; from the body's toil he brings back treasure. By God's strength, at the start of the month we shall all prepare ourselves for the road. I will lead an army toward Khorasan and summon troops from every land. I will cleanse the world of evil men, and with justice and generosity make the realm anew. All the nobles fell silent, then with apology sang his praise: O victorious king, full of glory and justice, may the age rejoice in the sight of you. We nobles are all your servants; we bow our heads to your command and counsel. Whenever you order us to battle, the king will see no idleness in us. After that, when he sat down with his counselor, the great men and Kasra gathered together. Things went on this way until the new moon rose, and he took his seat upon the new throne. You would say a cup of yellow ruby had been set upon a veil of deep blue. When they saw the moonlike face of the king, a cry of joy rose from the royal court. When the shining lamp lifted its head above the mountain, the earth became like a golden bow. The blare of the war trumpets rang out, and the bronze bells were fastened on the elephants. Wave upon wave the troops came to the camp, and the drummers set out on the road. Yazdgerd the scribe went to the court, together with the counselor, the priest Ardeshir. They wrote letters to every land, to every noble and every chief. The king has marched with his army for battle; do not, you lesser ones, prepare a feast. He sent a letter to the Khaqan of China, and praised him with his complaint as well. He led out an army from Ctesiphon so vast that no land was left uncovered, save the sea itself. From mountain to mountain the ground was one solid mass of soldiers, the world ruler's banner planted at the center. He led one army toward Gorgan, so great that the sun vanished from the world. For a while he rested, hunting, roaming through the mountains and the meadows. The Khaqan was in Sogdia while the king took counsel with his army at Gorgan. With the kinsmen of Arjasp and Afrasiab, all Sogdia had become like a sea of water. The Khaqan kept saying: the earth cannot hold my army, nor bear the weight of my crown. From here we will march our troops toward Iran, and from Iran onto the plain of the brave. We will carry all the soil of Iran back to China, and bring the Arabs into this faith of ours. I will let no one keep a crown or throne, no royal seat, nothing of fortune's throne. For a while he went on with such talk, that world seeker, with his war hungry army. Until news came of the king, that he had set out from Iran in glory. And with that triumphant fortune and full power, he had spread his army from sea to sea. When the Khaqan learned this, he faltered; the road to battle grew short. He sat down to think with his advisor, and the great men of the army gathered. The Khaqan's commander said to the minister: this news cannot be dismissed or hidden. I have heard that Kasra has reached Gorgan and spread his troops across the whole face of the land. Surely he has no news of us, or else his mind is empty of good judgment. From China to the Oxus, the army is mine; the world lies beneath the glory of my crown. I must go out to fight him; let iron armor smother both my name and my shame. He imagines there is no path except through him, as if no other king exists in this age. Now let him learn what a warrior I am; I will go before him with the horsemen of China. A wise man spoke to the Khaqan of China, saying: O ruler of the earth, do not think of war with the king of Iran; do not throw your kingdom and your army to the wind. No king seeks to take his place unless his heart and judgment have gone dark. For no king matches his glory upon the throne; even the moon in the sky is not as bright as his face. He demands tribute from India and from Rome, from every place of treasure and prosperous soil. He is master of the crown, worthy of the throne, a world ruler, watchful, and blessed with victorious fortune. When the Khan heard the priest's words, he laid the foundation of a fitting plan. He said to his wise, path-seeking counselor: what does a wise man think best here? Two matters lie before us that cannot be avoided; it is foolish to sit silent about them. One of them, in the end, brings only hardship; there is nothing better than scattering treasure for it. From gold coins come no clothing and no food, nor any shelter on the day of shame and battle. What a man needs is safety, food, clothing, and fine bedding. Anyone who lives in fear of misfortune should count money as cheap and keep himself at ease. From the army he chose ten eloquent men, who knew how to speak and how to listen wisely. He wrote a letter full of praise, its Chinese phrasing as fine as figured Chinese silk. Those ten wise, well-spoken riders set out secretly toward the king. When word reached Kasra, he adorned the royal hall. He ordered the curtain drawn aside and let them pass gladly through his court. All ten came before the king with the letter, gifts, and offerings. When the world-ruler saw them he welcomed them, asked after the Khan, and seated them. They bowed their heads to the ground before him and delivered the message of the Khan of China. The envoy set before the scribe a letter written on silk in Chinese. The scribe began at once to read the letter, and the whole assembly was left in wonder. The letter opened first with praise, of the Creator to the king of the earth. Then it displayed to the king its greatness: high standing, treasure, army, arms, and majesty. The third point was this: that the emperor of China calls me the maker of order in the world. Without my even wishing it he gave me his daughter; his army seeks nothing but my will. And as for the gift the king had sent, which the Hephthalites seized along the road, for that grievance I marched out from the city of Chaj, to take treasure and crown from Ghatfar. I advanced in such a way from Golzariyun that the waters of the Oxus ran red as rubies with blood. When the news reached Machin and China, we called down blessings on the one who brought it, for the king's victory and courage, his wisdom, his modesty, and his good sense. In our hearts we felt only friendship, seeking to bind ourselves to the king of the world. When Kasra heard that letter and its words, its account of his greatness, manhood, and worth, they gave the envoys lodging, praised them greatly, and treated them with honor. Whenever the cupbearer set out the feast and wine, the king would summon the envoys. For a whole month they stayed near the king, at the palace of feasting and at the hunting grounds. One day he set up a court in the open plain; the air grew dark with the dust of galloping riders. All the border chiefs wore golden belts, the men of Baluch and Gilan carried golden shields. They all came to that court, the attendants gathered close around the king. They brought some three hundred elephants in golden trappings, and swords in golden sheaths. The flash of blade, javelin, and spear, as if gold had been fused into iron. The elephants' backs were dressed in fine brocade, with turquoise thrones the color of the Nile. The ground was full of clamor, the air full of tumult; even the sharpest ears went deaf. Envoys from Barda, India, and Rome, from every ruler of every prosperous land. From the plain of the lance wielding horsemen they all set out toward the king. It showed the Chinese who holds true kingship, who rules from the sun down to the fish beneath the earth. The air filled with the swirling dust of riders, the ground filled with the tools of war. On the plain they set up a field of combat, and the war riders came charging. With mace and blade, with arrow and bow, the proud warriors circled for a time. The whole plain was javelin throwers and lancers, foot soldiers on one side, horsemen on the other. For the envoys from every country, from every famous name and every noble lord, the king's army and equipment were astonishing, as were his face, his name, and his voice. The envoys said to one another in secret: this king who holds his head so high, he seeks excellence and never turns his rein aside; he wields the spearhead as if it were his own body. If the king had shown us his own skill, each of us would carry the memory of it. So that when each returned to his own king, he would have a story to bring back with him, and he would say: neither old nor young have ever seen a king like Nushirvan. Everything they said in secret they later told to the king of the world. Then the king ordered the treasurer to bring the tools of war onto the plain. He brought the padded coat, the helmet, and the mail, and ordered the knots untied. The strong man laid them out; not one of them could lift his armor from the ground. That same helmet, coat, and mace, nothing but his own chest and shoulders could bear them up. There was no archer in the army like him, nor any famous warrior so fierce in battle. He rode into the field like a raging elephant, an ox headed mace in his hand. Beneath him a swift stepping horse, and the whole gathering stood amazed at his stature. The trumpets roared and wailed, and from the backs of the elephants came the clang of bells. Drummers went ahead striking their cymbals; the ground groaned beneath the hooves of the horses. The king of kings, in helmet, mail, and spear, turned left and right, wheeling and swerving with the reins. The envoys cried out their praise, and one by one they lowered their heads to the ground. The king of the world came in from the field to his palace; one by one they went in with their hopes. He commanded the scribe to come before him, along with Ardashir, the chief of the priests. On the parchment the writer set down the royal letter, writing it in the Pahlavi tongue. When the pen had washed its two faces in fragrant ink, it began the letter first with praise. Praise to the just one who created the heavens, who made height and swiftness and love. We are all his servants and he is the king; wisdom bears witness to his power. No breath is drawn except by his command; without him no ant treads a step upon the earth. I asked of him that our greeting might be carried to the Khaqan of China. First, as for what you said about the Hephthalites, how they girded themselves for evil, how in their injustice they recklessly shed blood, and hanged themselves in the trap they had set. Even if a wrongdoer has the strength of a lion, he must not grow bold against God. Since they took the path of the leopard, you triumphed over them in battle. And next, as for what you said of your treasure and army, of the might of the Faghfur, and throne, and crown, one who tells tales of his own greatness, no wise man will ever agree with him. You have not seen a great throne, nor a crown; the army and the land of Chaj amazed you. Such talk suits a man who has never seen treasure, nor an army, nor war, nor hardship. The great ones of the world have seen me; those who have not seen me have heard of me, how I do not count the sea of China as mere water, and how the mountain turns to rubble when I move against it. The whole earth lies beneath my treasure's sway; wherever there is water and soil, it is my labor. Third, since you have sought friendship, and adorned your heart with a bond to us, you seek a feast, and I have no wish for war; no wise man ever seeks war at a feast. And further, a wise man never seeks combat with a man of great renown, especially one who has made war himself, who does not hesitate when the time to fight has come, who has seen much on the day of battle, and needs no teacher when it is time to fight. In the fierce fight one must keep his heart as calm as when he sits with crown and throne. May the Creator of the world be your friend; may your crown and signet ring stay bright. They set the letter beneath the king's seal, and that royal figure arranged his crown and throne. In the manner of kings they prepared robes of honor, and summoned the envoy before him. Whatever else was in his heart to send as a message, he added to the words of the letter as well. With grace they departed from the king's hall, and set off on the road, full of praise. Then they arrived before the Khan of China, every tongue full of blessings. The world-experienced Khan cleared the place, and the guide came up to his throne. He called all the envoys before him, and spoke many words about Kasra. First about his wisdom, knowledge, and judgment, about his speech, his appearance, and his stature. Then he asked how large his army was, and which of them held the signet ring and the crown. About his justice and injustice, about his realm, and about his army, treasure, and diadem. The eloquent envoy opened his tongue, and recalled before him all that he had seen. He said to the Khan of China: O ruler, do not hold him as this humble subject. During the time we stayed at his side, glad of heart and with fresh faces, in the hall of battle and on the hunting field, we never saw a ruler like him. He is tall as a cypress and has the strength of an elephant, and in generosity he is like the Nile. On the throne he is the sky of loyalty; on the battlefield he is a crocodile of disaster. If he grows fierce, he roars like a thundercloud, and at his voice even the lion is tamed. And when he drinks wine with a gentle voice, he wins hearts with warm words. A blessed cypress seated on throne and dais, a fruitful branch of a beautiful tree. The whole city of Iran is his army; they are all servants who wear his crown. When he sets up his court in the open plain, that army will not fit within the world. All the mace-bearers full of splendor and glory, all the attendants wearing golden belts. With elephants, tall thrones, and ivory seats, with royal chairs, bracelets, torques, and crowns, no one can count the number of his ceremonies, no one in the world but a just ruler. If his enemy became a mountain of iron, before his wrath its eye would narrow like a needle's eye. Anyone who grows weary of his life turns fierce and goes to war with him. When the Khan of China heard those words, he wilted and grew pale as a yellow flower. At those words his heart was torn in two, and his mind filled with dread from worry. Full of thought he sat with his counselors, and spoke thus to the renowned assembly: O wise ones, what is the way of this matter? Who is it that has left me troubled and wounded with this pain? It would be wrong for a victory won in war to turn every good name into disgrace. They summoned wise counselors of every kind; they debated back and forth and set matters in order. The Khan said: This is the way, that we send people to the king. Let us take the lead through wise planning, make peace with the king, and become his kin. Behind our curtains we have many daughters, each a crown upon the heads of noble women. Let us give one, in his name, to the great king, and so put an end to worry over his affairs. Once we are bound to him through blood, no one will lead him toward doing us harm. With this there is pride and honor; without it, only war and reckless games. The nobles approved the king's counsel; with one voice they said: This is the way. From the army he chose three men of worth, men who could speak, understand, and take back an answer. He opened the treasury of gold and said: Why should jewels stay hidden away? Whether for honor and guarding against shame, or for giving gifts, waging war, and pressing on. He prepared a gift such that no one in the world, neither low nor high, had ever seen. He called before him a world-wise scribe and poured out to him all that was in his heart. First he gave praise to the Creator, the powerful, the wise, the sustainer of all. Lord of Saturn, the sun, and the moon; lord of victory and of power. He asks nothing of his servant but honesty, and seeks no flaw within justice. From Him be greetings upon the king of Persia, lord of the sword, the mace, and the helmet. Lord of wisdom, the crown, and the throne, who has won desire and fortune from the Victorious One. Let the world-ruler of royal descent know, the wise one of weight, culture, and generosity, that people gain worth through other people, however great and lofty they may be. My wise envoys, who were near to my household, when they came from that court to this court, they spoke a while about the king, of his justice, his wisdom, and his fortune, of his crown, his glory, and his throne. Such a longing arose in me that, through your splendor, I might rest in the shadow of your wing. Nothing is more precious than one's heart's blood, and a gifted child is one with the heart. One who is pure and modest, gentle in nature, lovelier and more worthy to behold, let him ask her of me, if she pleases him; surely this will prove to his benefit. Then the border of Persia and China will not stand apart, and praise of us will grow throughout the world. So they wrote it all on Chinese silk and carried it, sealed, before the vizier. The Khan chose three eloquent, noble men from among his own kin. They set out from that lofty court toward Iran, to the honored king. When Kasra heard, he adorned his crown and took his place on the royal throne of ivory. The three noble and clever men reached the foot of the high throne. They brought three bags each holding about thirty thousand gold coins and laid them out before him, with gold and silver and Chinese silk, brighter than the sky spread over the earth. When the envoys were seated, they offered their blessings in the Chinese tongue. The king's minister at once prepared a lodging worthy of them. The heavens turned through one more night; when the shining sun rose over the mountain, the victorious king sat upon his throne and set a crown of rubies on his head. He ordered the priest and the counselor, and the famed assembly came before him. He said: let them bring that letter written on silk and set it before the scribe. All the nobles sat in a circle, and Yazdgerd stepped gracefully before the king. When the letter was read to the king of Iran, the whole assembly was left in wonder, at all the courtesy, the apology, and the praise that showed in the Khan of China's words. All the proud and devout men began to praise the sovereign. They said: thanks to God, and in him is our refuge, that no other king has sat upon such a high seat, in the victory and majesty and glory of the king, in the goodness, gentleness, and alliance of the king. All your enemies are your servants, and if any are lesser, they bow their heads before you. All the fear was of that army of Chaj, of the Khan who held both treasure and crown. By the king's glory he has become a well-wisher and now seeks a path to draw close to the king. Whoever among heroes possesses wisdom cultivates ease of body and honesty. When the Khan knew he could not match the king's power, he sought a way to ally with him. There should be no delay in this matter, for no one finds shame in an alliance with him. From China to Bukhara the armies are his, and all the chiefs are his well-wishers. When the king heard the words of those wise men, the great ones and the clear-hearted priests, they cleared the hall of strangers and seated the envoy before him. The king of kings honored them greatly and gave them seats near the throne. They delivered the ruler's message and pressed their case with firm words. When the king heard those warm words from the Chinese nobles, he answered in a gentle voice. He answered like this: The Khan of China is a great man, wise and worthy of praise. He seeks a bond through his child; he wants to clear the face of friendship of any stain. Anyone whose soul holds wisdom looks at all matters with the eye of reason. Let us prepare, and set this fortunate plan in motion; whatever he has said, we will answer. Now it should be that the Khan of China gladdens our heart with the finest choice. I will send someone who has wisdom, to inspect his private chambers from end to end. He should choose the one with the greatest name, the one most dear to the Khan of China. He should see what her mother is like, whether her lineage springs from royal blood. When he has done what we have described, and given the matter its rightful bond, The envoys offered praise, saying the Khan of China is delighted with the king. For his veiled, secluded women would not hide their faces from the gaze of such a man. The king of kings heard their words, and his old days felt fresh again. He summoned the scribe of letters, and spoke at length about the Khan. He ordered a reply to be written, choice words, auspicious ones, set down on the page. First he gave praise to the Creator, the victorious ruler of the world, the Nurturer. By His command the world stands firm; He alone guides us toward good and evil. Whomever He wishes to honor, He lifts from the depths to the lofty heavens. Another He leaves trapped in bad fortune, when the Creator wills no good for him. For every good thing I know I owe Him thanks; and if I do wrong, my heart is filled with dread of Him. Let there be no life in my body if I ever strip away fear and hope of Him. This envoy arrived with blessings, bearing the warm words of the Khan of China. I heard all he said about a marriage bond, about the pure ones he keeps hidden away. My heart was gladdened by your bond, and above all by your sheltered daughter. So now I have sent a wise man, one whose very soul is bound to reason. He will come and speak all my thoughts, from the beginning of this bond to its end. May your body and soul be always full of honor; may your heart be glad and your back warmed by our support. When the scribe's pen had done its work, he prepared the paper and wrote it out. As soon as the ink of the pen had dried, they pressed upon it a seal of musk. The king bestowed on them a robe of honor so fine it left the whole army amazed. Wise, generous Kasra chose the man whose name was Mehran Setad. A hundred riders from among the famous Persians, eloquent, worthy, and renowned. Khosrow said this to Mehran-Setad: go with joy and victory, in love and justice. You must have a persuasive tongue and shrewd mind; let wisdom guide you, and do not seek to wound any heart. First observe his household closely; you must know its good and bad exactly. Do not let the polish of a lovely face, its glory and adornment, deceive you. Behind his curtain are many daughters, each with splendor, stature, and a crown. A servant's daughter will not do, even if her father is the king himself. Look for the one who has modesty and honor, whose mother is of royal, noble blood. A granddaughter of the world-ruling Faghfur of China, born of the line of the great Khan of China. If she is noble in both body and lineage, the world will rejoice in her, and she in it. When Mehran-Setad heard this from the king, he showered praise upon the crown and throne. He set out from the world-illuminating throne on an auspicious day, under a fortunate sign. Word reached the Khan of China that the king had sent Mehran-Setad and an army. When he came before the Khan of China, he kissed the ground and offered his blessings. When the ruler saw him, he welcomed him and prepared a place of honor for him. The Khan grew thoughtful over this matter and went toward the queen's chambers. He spoke of Nushin-Ravan's affairs and made much mention of his treasury and army. He told her: this King Nushin-Ravan is young, alert, and his fortune is new. We must give him one of our daughters, one who will raise our honor through him. Behind your curtain you have one daughter who wears a crown above all noblewomen. I have such love for her that I long never to take my eyes from her face. There are also four among the attendants, servant girls and devoted, sharp-witted maids. I will give him one of them, and so free myself from war and endless talk. The queen said to him: no one in the world can match your judgment. In this way he passed one night in sleep, until the sun rose over the mountains. He came to the court of Mehran-Setad, went up to his seat, and handed over the letter. When the Khan of China read that letter, he smiled at the pact and at his own good choice. He gave him the key to the chambers and said: go and see whom you find hidden within. Four attendants went along with him, ones the Khan trusted completely. When Mehran-Setad heard those words, he took the key and went with the trusted ones. He opened the chamber and they went inside; the servants told their tales. They said: the one you see now is so lovely that star, sun, and wind have never beheld her equal. The private hall was decked out like paradise, full of moon-faced beauties, sunlike splendor, and riches. Five fairy-faced maidens sat upon the seat, crowns on their heads and treasure spread beneath them. All but the Khatun's own daughter, who wore no crown, no bracelet, no torque, and no jewels. An old plain robe covered her; only a cap of natural musk sat on her head. There was no painted adornment on her cheeks, nothing but the beauty God himself had given her. She was like a cypress crowned with a new moon, and that fresh moon glowed with her face. When Mehran-Setad looked her over, he saw no one to compare with her. The clear-sighted, noble-minded man understood that the Khan and Khatun were far from justice. With clever words and a turn of speech he hid his true intent, and his hidden anger grew sharp. He told the servant: near the king there is plenty of bracelets, crowns, and thrones. I choose this one, who wears no crown or ornament, for her worth only increases without them. I came through hardship to find the best, not for the silk brocade of China. The Khatun said to him: old man, you have not said a single pleasing word. You should choose the one with glory, beauty, and wisdom, radiant of heart and full-grown, tall as a cypress, cheeks like spring, one who knows how to serve a king. Yet you pick a child not yet grown; you are not sound of judgment. Mehran-Setad answered: if the Khan turns his head from justice, let him know that the king who rules the world will call me too a man of impure judgment. I prefer this one, who without an ivory throne wears no bracelet, torque, or crown at all. If your nobles do not agree with this choice, then at your command I will return home. The Khan considered his words and marveled at his judgment and his conduct. He knew that this old man of pure mind was great and fit for delicate matters. The wise man sat down with his counselor, and the royal hall emptied of the gathering. When the seating place had cleared, they came forward with the Roman astronomical table in hand. The astrologers and the seasoned men, all who were leaders among them, he ordered every one who bore a seal to work out together the reckoning of the heavens. The mobed studied the stars concerning the Khan's deed and the bond with the king. At last he said: O king, do not trouble your heart with any evil thought. This affair will end only in good; the wise never surrender the world to an enemy's counsel. Such is the secret of the high heavens, and the turning of the favorable stars. From this daughter of the Khan and the line of the Shah, a king worthy of the throne will come. Kings will praise him, and so will the gifted, proud nobles of China. When the Khan heard this his heart grew glad, and the queen, radiant as the sun, smiled. Once they had settled the matter in their hearts, they seated the envoy before them. They said what needed to be said about the queen's child, until now kept hidden. Mehran Setad accepted it on the father's behalf, in the name of the victorious king of kings. The Khan agreed with fairness to give in marriage the one born of the queen's own blood. The servants came bearing offerings, and joyfully approached the sovereign. After that came a treasure, adorned, and within it wealth of every kind. Of gold coins and jewels, torques and crowns, turquoise seals and thrones of ivory. Another chest of Indian aloewood set in gold, with many kinds of gems woven upon it. With each a royal crown, a hundred horses and a hundred mules, saddled and laden. Camels loaded with Chinese silk, and the horses' backs decked out with saddles. Forty of them in gold-embroidered silk, with emeralds stitched into the gold. A hundred camels loaded with rich fabrics, and three hundred servants brought forth. So it went until everyone had mounted, in Chinese fashion, each with a banner in hand. The fortunate Khan gave the order that a throne be set upon the elephant's back. Upon it were woven bars of silver and gold, and within the bars, gems of every kind. A shining banner of Chinese silk, so dense the fabric hid the ground beneath it. A hundred men lifted it from its place, raising it from the plain up toward the sky. He decked a litter with silk and gold, and inside it flawless, untouched jewels. Three hundred moon-faced handmaids set out, glad of heart and eager for the road. He sent his child to the Shah, and an army went along the way with her. Fifty servants and forty attendants passed by with joyful hearts. When that was done, the scribe arrived and brought musk, rosewater, and silk. He wrote a letter, brief and elegant, full of ornament, fragrance, color, and design. First he praised the Creator, the world's keeper, watchful and all-seeing. That whatever He shapes into being, that is the very course His servants must follow. The king of Iran is the crown upon my head; my bond with him is not merely for a daughter's sake. For all that I have heard from the wise, from the great and the clear-hearted priests, of the king's glory, greatness, and majestic throne, I sought only his goodwill and his alliance. For nowhere in the world does a ruler as just as he gird himself for the task. In courage, in victory, in power, in glory, in strength, in throne and crown, in generosity and knowledge, in judgment and wisdom, the faith of God itself nurtures him. So now I send my own world-seeing daughter to King Kasra, according to my custom. I have instructed her to be like a servant, to do as fits behind the royal curtain, to gain wisdom from his glory and culture, to learn his ways and his manner. May fortune and wisdom be your guides; may greatness and knowledge be your pillar. They set the seal upon the Chinese musk, gave it to the envoy, and blessed him. He chose a robe of honor for Mehran Setad, one so splendid that no one could recall any of the world's great men ever giving such a gift to an envoy, openly or in secret. He gave gifts to his companions too, gladdening them with gold coins and musk. The daughter set off with her treasure, with adorned riders and elephants. On they went to the bank of the Oxus, while blood streamed from his heart through his lashes. He waited until they had crossed the river and set foot on dry land on the far side. He turned back from the Oxus with a heart full of blood, sharing in the pain of parting from his child. When word came of Mehran Setad, everyone rewarded the messenger who brought the good news. One by one they called down blessings on the king of Iran and the lord of China. With glad hearts, with gifts and offerings, all of them loving, all of them friends. They hung festive decorations through the city and along the road, and scattered coins over the king's throne. From Amuy along the desert road to Merv, the whole ground was patterned like a pheasant's feathers. So it went until she reached Bastam and Gorgan; you would think the earth had never seen the sky. So great were the decorations they hung over city and plain, along the road the army passed, that from all Iran, child and man and woman gathered to line the road of the Chinese idol-fair princess. From the rooftops they showered jewels upon them, and strewed saffron and coins beneath their feet. Basins of perfume were poured out, and the world filled with the sound of drums and horns. The horses' manes were drenched with musk and wine, and sugar mixed with coins was scattered underfoot. From the endless sound of flute and harp and lute, there was no place on earth for rest or sleep. When the idol-fair bride entered the king's chamber, Kasra looked into her curtained litter. A slender cypress of the faith, her face like the moon, an amber-dark crown set upon that moon. A crown like musk-black chain mail, its jewels strung knot upon knot. Knots tied from strands and twisted tight, woven one into another as if by magic. Like a ring of fragrant perfume upon a rose, and beneath the ring the planet Jupiter shone. King Nushirvan stood dazzled before her, calling the name of God again and again. The king chose a place worthy of her, and they adorned a throne fit for the moon. When word reached the Khan of China of Iran and of the king of the land of Iran, and of the joy his daughter had found, he grew glad and cheerful at this bond. He gave up Sughd, Samarkand, and Chach, and sent a crown to Qajghar Bashi. When that army withdrew from these cities, the king dispatched governors to rule them. The world was filled with Nushirvan's justice; old and young slept safe upon the open plain. One by one they sang his praise, from every corner, blessing the king of the earth. All raised their hands to heaven, saying: O Maker of all place and time, keep this justice with King Kasra, and turn the ill of fortune away from his life. For by his majesty and his throne in the world, evil vanished, both open and hidden. When the Khan reached Gorgan to hunt, no one saw his face at ease again. Sleep and food deserted the horsemen of China; not a rider took the saddle from his horse. Three hundred thousand Turks scattered; nowhere was there any effort to fight. No bow needed to be strung; there was no one left here, neither Chinese nor Khan. Such was the glory and grandeur of the royal line, hunting the raging lion for sport, for his name and the king's star were one: throne and fortune traveled together. After that the nobles gathered, from the Oxus to the cities of Chach and Khotan. They said: these spacious cities, full of gardens and squares and halls and palaces, from Chach and Barak to Samarkand and Sughd, much of it lay in ruins, home only to the owl. Chaghan and Suman and Khottal and Balkh, their days had turned dark and bitter for all. Bukhara and Khwarazm and Amuy and Zam, I remember much of them with pain and grief, from the tyranny and suffering of Afrasiyab, no one had a place to rest or sleep. When Kaykhosrow came, we were saved from him, and the whole world found rest from that torment. After that, when Arjasp grew strong, these borderlands again filled with pain and harm. When Goshtasp came from Iran to fight, Arjasp found nowhere to make a stand. The world found rest from his deeds, and may fate never favor him again. After that, when Narsi became commander, all the cities were filled with grief. When Shapur, son of Hormozd, took the throne, Narsi could no longer tell his head from his feet. The world turned toward justice and safety, and the hand of evil was bound from wickedness. When the Khan seized the world from Yazdgerd, with a swift hand he stirred up dust and turmoil. Then Bahram Gur, ruler of the world, arrived, and the Khan was filled with pain and dread because of him. Through his justice the cities became like paradise, and all that was ugly and foul was swept away. In the time of Piruz, it was Khushnavaz who filled the world with pain, fever, and burning. May Faghanish, his son, cease to exist, nor his kin, nor his throne, nor his royal seat. Now the ruler Khosrow has accepted our land, and our worth has grown precious. May this remain his forever, the whole world to him like the body and its head. So that now the earth may see justice from him, we will suffer no more, nor spill blood. After that, from the Hephthalites, the Turks, and Khotan, they gathered at the river Golzariun. Wherever there was a learned priest, a pure, wise, and deeply knowing chief, every elder who was a counselor, they all assembled from among the Turks. The whole army agreed on this plan: to come before the king bearing gifts. When they reached Nushirvan, they came all of one heart and one voice. The crowd at the king's court grew so dense that they blocked the path even to an ant and a gnat. They all laid their heads upon the ground and all called down blessings upon the king. They said: O king, we are your servants; by your command we live in this world. We are all proud with the gear of war; on the plain we can tear a leopard's hide. The king of kings accepted their offering, and they were wholly saved from the cruelty of fortune. Faghanish was their leader in front, and behind him an army fresh for battle. When the king was pleased with these warriors, he came to the court of the chief of audiences. He asked them much and treated them with kindness, and arranged lodging for them in every quarter. After that, the God-worshiping king of kings came down from his seat to the ground. He offered praise to the Creator: O you who are higher than the turning of time, you gave me glory, culture, and wisdom; you are the guide toward all that is good. Whoever comes to know of me from now on will no longer seek the crown of kingship. The lesser folk carry out all the work, and no one dares to make war. The birds in the mountains, the fish in the water, they seek no sleep while I lie resting. Every beast, tame and wild, stands guard over me; the great ones of the world are my servants. Whoever you choose is not despised; there is no ruler of the world but you. Give me strength, so that in all the world not even a wounded ant may lose its sleep because of me. So he wept long before God: behold, what king in the world is like this? He rose from his place of prayer to the throne, and they made ready to leave Gorgan. The blast of the war horn rang out, and from the court came the sound of the bronze drum. The army mounted and loaded its baggage, and remembered God's gift of good fortune. From gold coins and brocade, crowns and belts, from the treasure of silver, and of pearls and gems, from horses and veiled women and crowns, and the turquoise litter and the ivory throne, the attendants mounted their saddles, idol fair servants of every kind. He sent everything toward Ctesiphon, the Chinese harem leading the way. On an auspicious day, under a favorable sky, the servants set out around her. Mehran Setad was the chief of the priests; he went with the harem of the Khan's line. The treasure and baggage went toward Ctesiphon; not one of the warriors remained behind. All the pure noble heroes of the freeborn came toward Azerbaijan. An army came from every land, a host from Gilan and from the Deylamites. From the Baluch mountains and the plain of Soruch, the warriors of Kuch came marching proudly. All of them pure of heart, with gifts and offerings, before the royal pavilion of the king. The great king came to that city so that he might cut short the wolf's claw against the sheep. By the glory of Khosrow, ruler of the world, the very heavens changed in both vengeance and love. In whatever city his army passed, it harmed no crop along the way. No one demanded bread or water from another; each prepared his own place to sleep along the road. In this way he traveled around the world, looking at every plain and open field. He saw the whole world full of crops, its fields and plains full of cattle and sheep. On land that had never been cultivated, they saw no sown seed nor any harvest. Khosrow looked and found it fruitful; in every home he found children. The tree branches bowed with the weight of fruit, through the glory of the ruler of watchful fortune. They reached a halting place near the king, and the emissary of Caesar arrived on the road. Along with gifts and robes and silver and gold, with belts of Roman and Chinese brocade. The offering spread across the ground was so vast that Rome had never sent such tribute. They filled ten oxhides with gold coins, and three years of tribute and tax were sent. From Caesar came a letter with the offerings, written and addressed to the famous king. They seated the messenger before them, the king looked on, and the letter was read to him. It carried many gentle messages about the things that had been sent ahead. Saying: from now on we will send even more, for this was tax, and tribute is owed as well. The king accepted from the one who had suffered, and sent it all straight to the treasury. Then the king rose from his throne onto his horse and rode toward the temple of Azargoshasb. When from afar he saw the place of worship, his face vanished behind the tears in his eyes. He dismounted, the sacred barsom bundle in hand, and prayed under his breath with sealed lips. Before the fire he began his praises, offering his devotion to the Creator of the world. All the surplus gold and jewels he had brought he handed over entirely to the fire's keeper. He scattered silver and gold among the priests, and gave them all robes along with gems. All the priests grew wealthy through him, and went before the fire, giving thanks. Under their breath they chanted blessings upon that just ruler of the earth. From there he came toward Ctesiphon; with so many troops the land became like Bisotun. From all the wealth that was scattered about, the country was filled with gold and coin. From that city he set out for Mada'in, for the keys to the treasuries lay there. He had Mehran Setad drive before him the Rose Garden of China and its forty masters. When Khosrow came back to his own throne, proud and hand in hand with his good fortune, the world became adorned like a paradise, full of justice and goodness and abundance. Kings gave up their fighting, their tyranny and bloodshed everywhere. The world filled with divine glory; it was as if two hands had been bound from evil. No one knew of plundering or raiding, or of reaching a hand toward wickedness again. A whole world came under the king's command, turning from crookedness and darkness to the right path. If someone dropped coins along the road, the thief would flee from that wealth. From brocade and gold coin, on land and sea, in bright daylight and in time of sleep, letters went out to every country, to every notable and every chief, to the merchants of the Turks and of China, of the Slavs, and to every land alike. From so many pods of musk and Chinese silk, from the finery of the West and the perfumes of India, Iran became like a joyful paradise; its very dust turned to amber, its bricks to gold. A whole world turned its face toward Iran, freed from hardship and from quarrel. The air itself seemed to weep rosewater; people rested, free from pain and the need for doctors. Rain fell on the flowers in its proper season; the farming was never spoiled by the rain. The world grew green and full of cattle; valley and plain were roses, and roses on the rooftops. The rivers all swelled like seas, and the rosebush in the garden rose like the Pleiades. In Iran they taught the languages, and lit up souls with knowledge. Merchants from every land and border, from the Turks, from China, from the Slavs, from the West, began to praise their guide and king; the cattle thrived and multiplied on the grass. Whoever had a share of knowledge stood among the speakers at the king's gate. The judges, the priests, and the honored wise; the ill-intentioned trembled in fear of harm. When the world's sun adorned the sky, a cry would rise from the royal court: You who serve the king of the world, keep no evil hidden in a single soul. Whoever has suffered hardship in his labor, and has not received reward to match his toil, let them all tell the master of audiences, so that he claims the wage owed from the one who owes it. And if a creditor comes down the road demanding coins from a man who has nothing, the empty-handed must not be made to suffer; the treasurer shall settle the debt from the treasury. Anyone who looks upon another man's wife, when his accuser comes to the king's court, sees nothing but the pit and the high gallows: the arrow with the gallows, the chains with the pit. And if a horse is found loose somewhere, so that the landowner drives it from his herd, they shed its blood over that farmland; the one who caused the harm takes only the meat. Its rider is left on foot, without his horse, and goes to the fire temple to seek pardon. His rank is erased, his name struck from the registers, and his mansion is brought down to the ground. There is no crime greater or lesser than this; lowest of all is whoever did evil before. That king will not agree to any of it; at his gate he wants none but honest men. Whoever does not approve of this way of ours, let him never be at our court. One day the ruler sat down in joy and granted audience to the learned nobles. He spoke smiling, his face open; Bozorgmehr took his seat upon the throne. He offered praise to the Creator, the victorious Lord and Sustainer. He said: You judge with a fresh, bright face, whom no foul tongue can ever touch. Blessed king of kings, ever victorious, ruler full of wisdom and noble worth. I have written a few words in Pahlavi on the royal parchment and paper. I gave them to the treasurer to keep, so that in time the king might read them. For I saw that this ancient dome of the sky will never open its lips to reveal its secret. If a man rises from the throne of feasting and takes his life in his own hand for battle, and clears the earth of its enemies, he grows safe from the torment of demons. He becomes king over the whole world and finds all things scattered at his command. When he wishes, his means grow vast; he builds rose gardens, orchards, arenas, and palaces. He piles up treasure, gathers children about him, and counts many days chasing his desires. He brings together armies and wealth, and his palace and hall are adorned. And if instead the poor man suffers, he too drags name and treasure from every side, yet all that he heaps up out of pretense will not last beyond a hundred years. It turns to dust, his toil bears no fruit, and all his treasure passes to his enemy. No child remains, no throne, no crown, no royal hall, no treasure, and no army. When you hear of his striving and his empty pride, no one in the world will keep his memory. But when time passes over deeds like these, a good name is left behind as a keepsake. In this world only two things endure forever; whatever else there is, stays with no one. Fine speech and good deeds never grow old as long as the world holds its sands. Such is the turning of the age; blessed is the man of modesty and restraint. O king, do no wrong while you can help it, above all the wrong that shames the soul. Choose harmlessness and usefulness, for that is the way of culture, custom, and faith. A few words are left from me as a memory; I think they will never grow old. When the bright-hearted king had spoken, he asked for many more of these words. He said to him: fortunate one, who is the man whose heart is glad and free of cold sighs? He answered: the one who is without guilt, whom the demon has never led astray. He asked him about crookedness and the demon's path, and about the way of the world's Creator, lord of the universe. He told him: God's command is the best, for in both worlds it brings true wisdom. Seeking to rise above it is the demon's path, which is the enemy of every worshiper. Blessed in this world is the man who keeps his word, whose whole being is surrounded by purity and modesty. When a person's soul stands guard over the body, life comes easily to them. Generosity and honesty stay with them; they do not knock at the door of crookedness and lack. Whatever brings good to the body, the soul's own light shines on after death. From these two, generosity and honesty, they hold nothing back, whether the sheath or the sword is called for. The one who rules over their own wisdom does not lead the soul down the path of desire. Do not listen to a person who is all arrogance, for their acts stay wicked even when their soul seems bright. When such a person is exposed and passes to the other world, here too they remain, stuck in pain. Beyond this, know as base the one who feels no gratitude to the pure God. They begrudge the body its own share, and out of greed they shut their mouth to pleasures. For the soul, knowledge is the true portion, yet they neither know it nor listen to anyone wise. Kasra asked: among the lowly, who is it that holds the thoughts of the noble? The answer came: the one who is wiser is also more capable of pursuing desire. 'Who then is the wise one?' asked the king. 'Knowledge is a hidden treasure within a person.' The reply: the wise one is he who, at the command of the demon, does not turn away from the path of the Lord of the world. There are ten demons, strong as lions, who drag the soul and reason down beneath them. Kasra asked him: what are these ten demons, over whom wisdom must weep? He answered: greed and need are two demons, mighty and overbearing. Next are anger, envy, shame, and spite, along with the slanderer, the two-faced, and the impious. The tenth is the one who gives no thanks to anyone for a kindness and does not know God. The king said: among these ten cursed and harmful ones, which demon is the most powerful? He answered Kasra: greed is a tyrant demon that endures a long time. It is never seen content; all its scheming is for more and more. Need is the one you see, from sorrow and pain, going blind, its face turned yellow. Beyond this, O king, is the demon of envy, an ailment that no physician can cure. If someone in the world lives free of harm, its sharp bite makes envy's own soul suffer. Then there is the demon of shame, full of strife, its claws always sharpened for evil. Another is the demon of spite, full of rage and turmoil; in its anger it strips a person of good sense. It brings neither compassion nor love; it is a grim, ill-natured demon with a scowling face. Another is the slandering demon, who knows nothing but lies and never speaks an enlightening word. That leaves the gossip and the two-faced demon, its heart cut off from the fear of the Lord of the world. It sows hatred and war between two people, and works to shatter every bond between them. The other demon is ignorant and ungrateful, neither wise nor able to recognize what is good. Judgment and shame mean little to him; in his eyes good and evil are one and the same. Then the king asked the sage: how does one wage war against the demon within the heart? What has the Lord of the world given to His servant that can cut short the demon's hand? He answered: it is the hand of wisdom that rises above the deeds of the evil ones. May wisdom be the guide of your soul, for the road ahead of you is long. Wisdom is armor against the swords of demons; through it the heart and soul of the knowing shine bright. Wisdom holds the memory of past words, and nourishes the spirit with knowledge. And if a person has what we call good character, his heart will feel no fear of the demon. The world is pleasant to a good-natured heart; it does not chase after every desire. Now I will speak enduring words that guide the heart toward joy. The wise and hopeful person always sees nothing but happiness in his days. He never thinks of doing evil, not for a moment; he takes the straight path and never bends the bow. Next, whoever is content with what he owns will not strain his body with toil and greed. One who does not fix his gaze on treasure and coin spends all his days in comfort. Then there is faith: to worship God alone, through hardship, through wealth, and through respect for others. His head never turns from God's command; evil is not woven into his nature. Of the same kind is restraint, for such a person will not sell the path of God for anything. The king said: of these ten, which is the ruler that shows the way toward good? He answered: the path of wisdom surpasses every other knowledge without doubt. And good character, by which a person keeps his honor intact all year long. Among these virtues, I found contentment of body to be the firmest jewel against the turns of fate. From these comes a calmer hope, one at rest from suffering and more worthy. But among these traits I saw greed as pure torment, for it is never satisfied by any treasure. The king said: which of the virtues is best, the one that makes the seeker great? He answered: whoever does not stray from the path lives with a body free of guilt. He will gain from the world all his wishes and a good name: a fine end, peace, and fulfillment. The renowned warrior asked him: of these ten, which one is the leader? He answered in a gentle voice, with warm and knowing words. Wisdom seeks nothing beyond itself; without a doubt, wisdom surpasses skill. Then the elder asked the wise man: which culture in a person is the best? He answered: knowledge is best, and the wise person is himself the moon over the world. For the wise do not crave riches for their standing; they keep themselves far from suffering. The king asked about his foe's strength: how do you mean to seek your power? He answered: bad conduct is the enemy of a clear soul and of wisdom. Then the just king asked the wise man: which is better, culture or noble birth? The guide answered him: culture stands above noble lineage. Birth without merit is wretched, worthless, and weak; through culture the soul stays sound. He asked him: what cleanses the soul, and what makes the body's talents worth praising? I will now tell you every one of these sayings, if you will take them all to heart, point by point. Wisdom is a robe of honor given by God; it lies beyond anxious thought and far from evil. The skilled person who is dazzled by himself, let his skill be left aside and not accepted. That same gracious, self-possessed person is never worthless in the eyes of the wise. If a wise person gathers generosity, knowledge, good manners, and justice together with good birth, he keeps taking greatness, abundance, and honesty, and strips away every bad trait. After that, Kasra asked him: O renowned man who seeks culture, does greatness come through effort or through fortune, that a ruler wins crown and throne by it? He answered: fortune and skill are like a matched pair, joined to each other. Just as body and soul are companions and mates, the body plain to see and the soul hidden away. The body is a person's outer garment, if wakeful fortune backs his effort. Greatness is not achieved by effort alone, unless good fortune is his guide. And besides, this world is a tale and a wind, like a dream the sleeper keeps in memory. When he wakes, he sees nothing with his eyes, whether he dreamed of good or of pain and anger. He opened another question from what was hidden, and asked the sage: who is the praiseworthy one? He answered: the king who adorns the throne and gains his power from fortune, if he is just and of good name, he wins his wish through his words and his deeds. He asked him: in this world, who is the wretched one, ill-fated and of no use? He answered: the vile pauper, who gains neither his desire nor a joyful paradise. He asked and said: who is the unlucky one, who must forever weep from pain? He answered: a wise man is one whose face turns pale from any evil deed. He asked him: who is truly content, and who craves ever more of worldly things? He answered: it is the one who feels no attachment to this turning wheel of the sky. He said to him: what suits us best? He replied: to be more patient and unhurried. He asked: who is the calm and steady one, and for whom should we weep over the hasty? He answered: watch the fault-finder, see whether he can turn his head away from idle talk. In him lie modesty and composure, skill, sound judgment, and worthiness. The famous king asked him: among all people, who is worthy of hope? He said: the one who strives the most, whose two ears listen most eagerly for knowledge. The king of the world asked him about hidden knowledge of good and evil. He answered: much that passes for knowledge is crooked and hollow at its core. They only tell us the grave is our resting place; I do not know what to say of the other world. Kasra said to him: which city is prosperous, and what share do we take from it? He answered: a flourishing land stands upright through the justice of its ruler. Kasra asked: who is the most alert, most admirable, most clear-headed of men? Tell me who in the world is such that his knowledge raises his honor. He answered: the aged sage who keeps in memory what experience has taught him. Kasra asked: to whom belongs true joy, whose back stays straight with happiness? He answered: whoever is safe from fear and has gold and silver at hand. He said to him: for what are we praised, and who is admired in everyone's eyes? He answered: the one whose need has covered over his envy, his shame, and his greed. The one who keeps no hidden envy or spite is the one the world admires. The king asked the patient man who wears endurance like a crown on his head. He said: it is the one who, though he fell into despair, kept his darkened mind bright as the sun. And also the one who counts his days and sets his hand to a great undertaking. He said to him: whose heart holds the most grief, so that sorrow makes him weary of his own life? He answered: the one who has fallen from the throne and lost all hope in his fortune. The lofty king asked him: which of us carries a heart full of pain? He said: the one who has no wisdom, and the rich man whom fate has denied a child. The king asked about the grieving heart of one who sits in warmth, safe and unharmed. He said to the wise, devout man: what fool becomes a king over people? He asked: who is the most hopeless of all among those who hold power and a good name? He answered: the one who falls from a great office and is left broken and wretched. King Nushirvan asked him: you learned man of bright soul, who do you know that lives without fame or ornament, yet is a man of love and mercy? He replied: the man burdened with sin, the guilty pauper who has no means. He asked: tell me truly, who most regrets what has passed? He answered: it is he who wears the dark helmet, the king, on the day of his death. His heart fills with regret and dread, for his soul was ungrateful to God. And also the one who did many good deeds for such ungrateful people. He asked: you who have gained wisdom, with virtues woven one into another, what do you know that benefits the body and is precious in everyone's heart? He answered: the sick man, whose heart seeks nothing but joy. When his days are spent in pain, his only wish is to be well again. He asked: of all desires, which is the greatest? Make it clear, good-natured man. He said: when a man rises high, his only wish becomes freedom from need. And when, free of need, he is also healthy, he should seek nothing but his heart's desire. Then he said to his guide: what worry weighs most on the heart? He answered: there are three matters a wise, path-seeking man must reckon with. The first: he worries about a bad day, that harm may reach him though he is guiltless. He fears the work of a deceiving friend, who wants his very marrow, blood, and skin. The third: the unjust ruler who forces hard labor from the working man. How fine the turning of time becomes with a wise and instructive man, a bright world and a just king; you will find no greater gift from the heavens. He asked him about faith and about truth, the kind kept far from any flaw. He said: my king, cling to a faith in which the remembrance of God is never broken, keep clear of crookedness and the devil's road; fear the world's keeper and the lord of the universe. Have both ears open to God's command, and let no one raise a cry against it. Then he asked him about the king who rules over the devout: which of them is the fortunate victor, worthy of the throne in this world? He said: the one who acts with justice has wisdom, good judgment, modesty, and skill. The king asked him about old friends, those who share the same corner and speak with one voice. He answered: from a friend, generosity and fair dealing are good. He wishes you no harm for another's sake; in hardship he is your companion and comes to your aid. Kosra asked: who is the closest friend, the one who is as one with you, marrow and skin? He answered: from a good heart no separation comes, except from someone whose heart is heartless. And also the one who is more caring, better in his deeds, and more helpful. He asked: who is the greatest enemy, the one who bears the most ill will toward you? He answered: the arrogant man, who deserves much reproach. And likewise the one gripped by harsh greed, his face all wrinkled, his fist clenched tight. He asked: who is a friend forever, one who will weep from the pain of parting? He answered: a good deed will never want to be parted from a good companion. He asked: what resembles the everlasting, the thing that never grows less even when spent? He answered: a man's true partner in goodness; it does not fade, nor burn, nor fear pain. He said: this is the wise soul, the one that has power over its desires. The king said: master of kindness, what is wider than the sky? He answered: a king with a giving hand, and next, the heart of a man who worships God. He asked: what is more beautiful, the thing that makes the wise man hold his head high? He answered: O king, never give your treasure to the unworthy. When you do a kindness to the ungrateful, you are casting a dry brick into water. He asked: what is the pain that lessens a man's greed for treasure? He answered: O king, may your heart forever be like early spring. The servant of a bad tempered king, from suffering, wants neither body, nor life, nor riches. He asked: what wonder have you seen so great that nothing greater can be measured? Bozorgmehr said to the king: the whole workings of the heavens are a wonder. We see one man with power, his crown reaching the dark clouds, who cannot tell his left hand from his right, who knows nothing of gain or loss in giving. Yet one turn of the high sky, and the stars foretell how and how much. The heavens guide him only into hardship; everything turns to misfortune for him. The king asked: what do you know as heaviest? He answered: the weight of sin. He asked which deeds stand highest among all, both in what is said and what is done. And which are marked by shame and blame, so that anyone who commits them is judged evil. He answered thus: harshness from a king, and oppressing innocent people. A rich man who stints on food, who grudges giving clothing and care. Women who have no sense of shame, who cannot speak with a gentle voice. Also good men who turn violent, and poor men who grow arrogant. A lie is colorless, ugly, and low, whether it comes from a scoundrel or a king. In this world, what can be said of goodness, that is both open and hidden at once? The knowing man makes it his armor, and brightens his soul with it. He answered thus: whoever strives for it finds nothing in the world but praise. And whoever is grateful to God is a wise man who recognizes goodness. Kesra said to him: what deed is best to do, and what is best left undone, by a king or a great man? What is best to keep our hands from, and what is best to grasp and hold onto? What is better than commanding and possessing, or than leaving a man in contempt? In answer he said: hold back your anger, and close your eyes to the faults of the innocent. And keep your soul awake, and strive in your affairs as far as you can. Lay down malice, take up hope, and your soul will shine like the sun. How much pleasure can you find in sin? Throw the pleasure away and keep far from sin. Thanks to the Lord of the sun and moon, for I have been freed from Bozorgmehr and the king. Since this troubling matter has reached its end, now you should speak of chess.

The wise elder told it this way: one day the king decked out his throne with fine Byzantine silk. He hung his crown above the ivory throne, ivory everywhere and the crown above it all. The whole palace was full of sages and governors from Balkh, from Bamian, and from Karzban. The king of the world got word from the sharp report of his watchful scouts: that an envoy of the king of India had arrived, with elephants, a parasol, and horsemen from Sindh. He came with a thousand camel-loads of cargo, seeking an audience with the sovereign. As soon as the alert king heard this, he sent a body of troops out to receive him. When the renowned and imposing envoy came before the great sovereign, he offered his respects in the manner of the great, and gave praise to the Creator of the world. He laid many jewels before him as tribute: a parasol and ten elephants with earrings. The Indian parasol was worked with gold, and various gems were woven into it. He opened the bundles at the court and carried every one of them to the king. The loads held silver and gold in abundance, musk and ambergris and fresh aloeswood, rubies and diamonds, and swords of India, every one an Indian blade with a rippling edge. Every fine thing that comes from Kannauj and its rajah, made and finished with skill, was brought and set in place. They carried them all before the throne, and the leader of sun-bright fortune looked them over. Every thing the rajah had taken pains to send, Khosrow ordered stored entirely in his treasury. Then the envoy brought forward a letter on silk, written by the rajah of India to Nushirvan, and a chessboard crafted with great effort, though its making had drained a treasury dry. He delivered the rajah's message from India: may you endure as long as the heavens turn. Let one who has toiled hardest in knowledge order the chessboard set before him, and let them try every kind of strategy, so as to play out this clever game. Let them learn each piece by name, and say which is the proper square for each. Let them know the pawn, the elephant, and the ranks, the rook and horse, and the moves of the vizier and the king. If they play out this clever game and bring pure wisdom to the task, then the tribute and taxes the king has demanded I will gladly send to that court. But if the famed men of Iran, all together, are worn down and defeated by this science, since they have no strength to match our knowledge, they shall not seek tribute or tax from this land. Indeed, they must then pay tribute to us, for knowledge is worth more than any celebrated thing. Khosrow gave his heart and ear to the speaker, and the envoy recounted his words to him. They set the chessboard before the king, and for a while he studied the pieces. One set of pieces on his board was carved from ivory, the other from painted teak in many colors. The fortunate king asked about it all: the figures, the pieces, the scent, and the board. The envoy answered: 'Your majesty, every rule and move here comes from the ways of war.' 'When you find the way to play it, you will see the rook, the elephant, and the whole array of a battlefield.' The king said: 'Give us a week's time; on the eighth day we will play with clear minds.' They cleared out a bright hall and prepared quarters for the envoy. The wise men and priests, skilled at showing the way, all went together before the king. Then they placed the chessboard before them, and each studied it beyond measure. They searched and tried every approach, moving each piece once from every side. One spoke and asked, another listened, but no one could uncover the way to play. They all left with frowning faces, and then Bozorjmehr came to the king. He saw the king troubled by the matter, and foresaw the end of that hardship at its very start. He said to Khosrow: 'O king, ruler of the world, watchful and commanding,' 'I will bring this clever game to light, and lead reason to solve it.' The king told him: 'This task is yours; may your mind stay bright and your body sound.' 'Otherwise the ruler of Kannauj will say that our king has not a single man who can find the way.' 'It would be a great disgrace for the priests, for the court, the throne, and the wise.' Bozorjmehr brought out the chessboard, sat down deep in thought, and his face brightened. He worked out the moves to left and right, playing until he knew each piece's place. In one day and one night he grasped the game, then hurried from the hall to the king of Iran. He said: 'O fortunate king, I have examined these pieces, this scent, and this board.' 'By your high fortune, master of the world, the whole game has come out well.' 'Summon the king's envoy before you, and whoever keeps watch over us.' 'The great king should see it first: it is truly like a real battlefield.' The king was gladdened by his words and called him a man of good fortune for the age. He ordered the priests and the wise men to come with the renowned counselors. He called the envoy of Kannauj forward and seated him in that place of honor. The eloquent Bozorjmehr said to him: 'O priest of the radiant, sun-faced king,' 'About these pieces, what did your king tell you? May wisdom always be your companion.' He answered: When I left the presence of that fortunate king, he told me: Carry these pieces of teak and ivory before the throne of the crowned lord. Tell him: Set them out before your wise men and counselors, and gather an assembly around them. If they can work out this clever game, this charming and captivating puzzle, then this purse and these gifts, this tribute and tax, we will send as much as we have strength to give. But if the king and his sages cannot manage it, and cannot see it clearly, then he must not ask tribute and treasure from us; he should spare his wise men the toil that would trouble their souls. When he sees the subtlety of our hearts and minds, let him send even more our way. He set the chessboard and its pieces down before the throne of that clear sighted king. The king spoke to the priests and the nobles: You who are renowned, pure hearted, and wise, all of you, listen closely to his words, and let his chief of staff heed them alertly too. The learned envoy laid out a battlefield, and in the center he set the place of the king. Left and right the horsemen were drawn up in ranks, and in front stood the foot soldiers, spear in hand. The alert minister stood before the king, showing him the way through the battle. The champion who moved his horse on both sides, and at his left the fierce, war seeking elephant. Above them stood the war horses in place, arranged so as to reach the king's side. When Bozorgmehr moved that army across the board, the whole assembly was left in wonder. The Indian envoy grew deeply troubled; that alert, clever man was stunned by the feat. The cunning man marveled at him, and worry settled into his heart, for he had never seen this chessboard mastered, nor heard of it even from the wisest men of India. How had he grasped its logic? No one else in the world could match such insight. Khosrow became so pleased with Bozorgmehr, it was as if fortune itself had shown him its face. Then the king ordered a cup to be filled with royal jewels, and gave him a purse of gold coins and a saddled horse, and praised him greatly. The wise man went off to his own quiet place; he set a board and a compass before him. He studied the chess and the reasoning of the Indians, and pushed his mind to greater effort. He joined intellect with a clear heart, and through thought he devised the game of backgammon. He ordered two sets of pieces made from ivory, each figure of ivory matched by one the color of teak. He built a battlefield like the chessboard, with combat arrayed on both sides. He divided the two armies into eight parts, all of them warriors set to seize the city. Like a battlefield of earth spread on four sides, with two noble kings of gentle nature. Each has more or less the same strength; neither commits injustice against the other. At their command, armies on both sides stand fiercely arrayed for war. When two men corner a lone one, that single piece is broken and lost from the army. Everywhere, at the front and rear of the ranks, the two kings strut proudly across that field of battle. This one crossed over that, and that one over this, at times fighting on the mountain, at times on the plain. In this way, until one king was defeated, both kings and their armies stood locked in the fray. Just as I have described, he set up the game and explained each piece to the king, one by one. He showed how the king moves with lofty spirit, its praise and also its rebuke. He laid out the strength, the command, and the warfare of the army, revealing each detail to the king. The heart of the Persian king was astonished by it, and his mind sank deep into thought. He said: You man of bright soul, may you stay young and may your days stay young. He ordered two thousand cameleers to bring their camels to the king's court. With cargo gathered from Rome and China, from Hephthalite lands, Makran, and the soil of Iran. They loaded goods from the royal treasury, and the caravan set off from the king's gate. When the camels' loads were made ready, the king's heart was set at ease over the matter. He summoned the Raja's envoy before him and spoke to him with much wisdom. He wrote a letter to send to him, full of knowledge, delight, and grace. He began the letter with high praise, seeking God's shelter from the mighty demon. Then he wrote: You renowned king of India, from the sea of Kannauj to the banks of the Sind, This wise envoy of the Raja arrived at our gathering with parasol and elephants. We heard of the chessboard and the Raja's message, and his message reached its mark. We asked the Indian sage for time, and adorned our minds with knowledge. The pure-minded sage deliberated much, studied it, and solved the game. Now this clever sage has come to Kannauj, before the exalted Raja. Two thousand heavy camel-loads, choice gifts, from the royal court. In place of chess, we have set the game of backgammon; now see whose game will win the contest. If you have many pure-minded Brahmins who can solve this game through their wisdom, then for whatever this envoy suffered, let the Indian Raja send it all to our treasury. But if the Raja and his guides struggle and still cannot solve the game, In the same measure, a camel's load must be sent back, and by agreement let the king of Kanauj bear this burden. Let him send load for load in return; such is our pact and our exchange. When the shining sun rose into the sky, Bozorgmehr set out from the king's court. When he reached the Indian king from Iran, a Brahmin gladly served as his guide. He came with the tribute, the letter, and the backgammon board, his heart full of thoughts of contest and combat. When he came near the king's throne, he beheld his head, his crown, and his fortune. He praised him greatly in the courtly manner, then handed him the royal letter. Of chess, of the journey, and of the king's challenge, he told everything, one by one, in its place. He delivered the great king's message, and the face of the Indian king bloomed like a rose. He said: where has any enduring man seen a marvel like this, that they solved chess entirely, and now bring back backgammon whole? Of the game, the pieces, and the king's wisdom, and of those sages who showed the way. What is recorded within the letter, let him read, understand, and not turn away from justice. At his words the king's face went pale, when he heard talk of chess and backgammon. A renowned steward came forward and gave the envoy a fitting place to stay. They decorated a joyful hall, and called for wine, music, and minstrels. The famed king then asked for a term of seven days, and those who kindled knowledge went off to work. From the worthy elders of the realm he gathered an assembly and set out the backgammon board. For a whole week, whoever was sharp of mind among those renowned men, young and old, kept probing the game of backgammon, driven by rivalry, reasoning, honor, and struggle. On the eighth day the sage said to the king: no one can make head or tail of this. Unless wisdom becomes the soul's companion, no one can draw the play out of these pieces. On the ninth day Bozorgmehr came, his heart full of longing, his face knotted with worry, saying: Khosrow did not grant us any delay; the king's heart must not grow troubled. The sages grew downcast at this, their souls full of sorrow, their brows full of frowns. The wise nobles drew aside and confessed their own ignorance. When Bozorgmehr saw this, he sat down, and all the sages' faces brightened. He laid out the backgammon board before him and recalled every movement of the pieces. He showed the commander and the battle of the army, the ordering of war, and the king's command. At this the king and his counselors were amazed, and many notables of the realm gathered round. All the great ones sang his praise and called him a sage of pure faith. He questioned him about every branch of knowledge, and each answer came back precisely right. A cheer went up from the scholars, from the seekers of learning and the reciters. Saying: here is a man who speaks with true wisdom, and not merely for the sake of chess and backgammon. After that he brought two thousand camels, all loaded with the treasures of Kannauj. Aloe wood, ambergris, camphor and gold, robes and cups all studded with gems. Along with a full year's tribute from the royal court, he sent it all straight to the king's palace. He asked for a crown from the treasury of the Indian king, and a robe of gold from head to foot. He gave these to him and offered many blessings, and gave his companions a great many gifts too. The two thousand camels the envoy had brought, he handed back to him along with the tribute and presents. It was a caravan such as no one had ever led before, nor had there been wealth greater than this. Bozorgmehr set out from Kannauj, his head raised high above the turning heavens. Glad at heart, carrying the Indian king's letter, written in Indian script on silk. It said: the king and the great ones bear witness, not out of fear, but freely, out of good will. That no one has seen a king like Nushinravan, nor heard of his like from any aged sage. No one is wiser than his minister; he is a treasury of the wisdom of the heavens. A full year's tribute has been sent ahead; if more is needed, we shall send more. Of the tribute we pledged, everything that was due has now been sent. When news reached the king that the wise man had come back from the road with success and grace, The king rejoiced at that news and ordered that every man of renown, From the city and the army, be informed, and all the notables went out to welcome him. That honored man entered the city in triumph, to greet the exalted king. When he came into the palace, near the throne, the king warmly blessed him. The world ruling king embraced him to his chest and asked him about the mission and the hardships of the road. Bozorgmehr told all that had happened, thanks to that wakeful fortune and the love of the heavens. Then he brought the letter of the victorious Indian king and laid it before the throne. The king ordered Yazdgerd the scribe, and he came before the knowledge loving king. When he read out the letter of the Indian king, the whole assembly was left in wonder. Astonished at the wisdom and judgment of Bozorgmehr, and at the sun bright fortune of the king's minister. Kasra said: thanks be to God that I am wise and know what is good. The great ones are slaves to my crown and throne; their hearts and souls are filled with love for me. Nothing is more astonishing than the work of Buzurjmihr, to whom the heavens granted such deep knowledge. Thanks be to the Lord of sun and moon, from whom come all victory and power. On this tale I built my words, and turned my attention to Talkhand and to chess.

The wakeful hearted Shahuy spoke: You wise old man, so full of heart, O learned man of quick understanding, take these words to heart from old Shahuy. In India there was a proud and noble man, with armies, troops, and every kind of might. His name, Jamhur, was famous everywhere; through his manliness he spread his stride across all lands. He became such a king over the people of India: wise, alert, and clear of soul. His realm stretched from Kashmir to the borders of China; everywhere they blessed him for his justice. By his manhood he held the world in his grip; Sandal was the city where he sat enthroned. He had the crown, the treasury, and the army; he had the royal seal and the royal cap. Jamhur was gifted, a seeker of culture, proud with knowledge and honor. His subjects were happy with him, whether townsfolk or the servants at his court. He had a wife of his own noble stock, intelligent, skilled, learned, and without flaw. That good king had a son from her, one so like his father you could hardly tell them apart. When the father saw this new ruler of the world, at once they named the boy Gav. Not much time had passed when suddenly the king fell ill. He gave his last counsel to his wife and men, and handed over a world full of praise for his justice. Gav was too young for such fortune, too small to bind the crown and belt or take the throne. The heads of all the nobles were covered with dust of mourning; their hearts were full of grief for Jamhur. The whole world was filled from end to end with memories of his giving, his feasts, and his justice. The soldiers and the townsfolk all gathered; woman, child, and man took counsel together. They said: this small child knows nothing of armies, nor justice, nor anger, nor throne, nor crown. The whole kingdom will fall into ruin if there is no lofty ruler to lead it. That king had a brother named Danbar, wise and fit for the throne, whose renowned name was Mai; he sat in Danbar, delighting every heart. The experienced elders, one by one seeking a king, turned their faces from Sandal toward Danbar. The great men from Kashmir to the borders of China blessed him and called him to the kingship. The proud Mai came from Danbar and set his foot upon the throne of the kings. He placed Jamhur's very crown upon his head and opened the gates of justice and generosity. When his affairs were settled, he took Gav's mother in marriage; he raised the boy and cherished him with his life. The fairy faced woman grew pregnant by Mai, and bore this renowned ruler a son. He named the boy Talkhand, and filled his soul with love for his child. This one grew to two years, and Gav to seven; Gav became a bold warrior, splendid and strong. After some time the mother fell ill, and the woman's heart filled with grief and worry. Two weeks passed and she died in sorrow; she left the world and handed it to another. All the people of Sandal wept in grief, their hearts scorched by sorrow for the mother. They sat a whole month mourning the king, and at month's end the whole army came together. All the nobles and champions of the city, everyone who had a share of wisdom. Every kind of talk went round the gathering; then a wise counselor spoke like this: This woman, who comes from the line of Jamhur, has always kept far from any wrong deed. She always sought honesty for her husband; she was nothing if not a seeker of justice. Hers is a lineage shaped for justice, for uprightness and firm foundation. It is best that this woman be our ruler, so that she remains a keepsake of these great ones. The assembly was won over by his words, and a messenger was sent to that pure soul: Take the throne yourself for your two sons; this is a fruitful, unavoidable task. When a son becomes worthy of the throne, give him greatness, treasure, and an army. After that, be his teacher as well, his comfort, his minister, and his guide. At their words the fortunate woman raised the crown high and adorned the throne. With abundance, goodness, learning, and justice, the whole kingdom rejoiced in her. She chose two priests of pure judgment, skilled men who had the world beneath their feet. To them she entrusted her two sons, two young men of noble and wise blood. They were never apart from them for a moment, made glad by the sight of them. When the boys grew strong and learned, they became skilled in every branch of knowledge. From time to time, one apart from the other, they would go to their virtuous mother. Asking which of us is the more deserving, higher in heart and more suited to rule? The mother said to both her sons: Let me see in which of you I find true merit, wisdom, good judgment, restraint and faith, an eloquent, gracious, praised tongue. Since you both come from royal blood, you need wisdom, modesty, restraint, and justice. Whenever one went alone to his mother, he too would speak a few such words: Of us two sons, who should have the country? Who should have the kingship, this throne and crown? The mother would tell him: the throne is yours; the skill, the judgment, the good fortune are yours. To the other son she spoke in just the same way, until the matter grew old with repeating. He gladdened both their hearts with the throne, with treasure and army, with fame and good fortune. Both grew into manhood and reached their place, but an evil counselor became guide to them both. Out of envy the two fell into torment; they rose in turmoil, each grasping for crown and treasure. Their whole homeland was split into halves, and the hearts of good men filled with fear. Stirred up by the words of that evil counselor, they came crying out before their mother. They asked: which of us is the worthier, more patient in facing good and ill? The wise woman answered them: consult a sage, be of one mind with a counselor. First you must sit calmly together and, in peace and goodwill, seek the outcome. After that, gather the renowned nobles of the city, everyone who has a share of good judgment. One by one we will speak with an advisor; haste in such a matter is not good. Whoever seeks the crown and the throne needs wisdom, judgment, treasure, and an army. When a tyrant rules as king, he fills the world with grief and ruin. The noble Gav spoke to his mother: do not rush this question along with the times. If the country takes no glory from me, still do not twist your judgment with a lie. Hand the treasure and army to Talkhand; I am his younger brother and wish him well. And if in years and wisdom I am the elder, I too am born of Jamhur's line, a warrior. Tell him not to make hard work of things through ignorance, in pursuit of crown and throne. The mother said to him: do not be harsh; you must speak your words with thought. Whoever sits upon the throne of kingship must gird his waist and keep his two hands open. He must keep his pure soul from wickedness and hand the path of reason over to knowledge. He must be wary of the enemy in war and guard his share of honor and disgrace. The Lord of sun and moon will call him to account for the justice or injustice done to city and army. If even a gnat suffers wrong from the king, his soul will remain in hell, grieving. The world is darker than a black night; a king needs a heart finer than a hair, one that frees soul and body from evil and knows that crookedness brings no reward. When he sets the crown upon his head on the throne of justice, a whole world rejoices in that justice. In the end the bed is of brick and dust, whether he burns down there in the grave. From this dynasty came King Jamhur, whose judgment was far from wicked deeds. He did not die at an evil hour; he died and left the world to his younger brother. From Danbar came the proud Mai, a young man, clear of heart and pure in judgment. All the people of Sandal came before her, their hearts filled with blood, seeking a king. She came and sat upon the royal throne, her waist tightly girded, her two hands open. She said: 'They asked me here, and we joined together, so that nothing would stay hidden in silence.' 'If you are the elder brother, you are also greater in wisdom and reason.' 'Act in such a way that you do not put your soul through suffering for the sake of pride, crown, and treasure.' 'If I choose one of you, the other's heart will turn to hatred against me.' 'Do not spill blood for a crown and a treasure, for this passing house of the world stays with no one.' When Talkhand heard his mother's counsel, her words brought him no benefit. He said to his mother: 'Out of favoritism, you keep passing judgment in favor of Gav.' 'If my brother is older than me in years, not everyone who is older is better.' 'In this army of mine there are many men, and beside them he is like a vulture reaching for the sky.' 'Men who never seek a throne or an army, neither throne, nor crown, nor treasure, nor royal cap.' 'If our father died in the days of his youth, he handed the throne of greatness to no one.' 'I see your heart leaning toward Gav, intent on making him the leader.' 'I would sooner make people out of clay than let my father's name be lost.' His mother swore a solemn oath: 'I renounce the deep blue dome of heaven.' 'If I ever wished for this desire, or dressed my heart in it before God,' 'Think nothing but good of these words; do not grow harsh against the turning of the sky.' 'To whomever it wishes, it gives good fortune; look, trust no one but God.' 'I have offered whatever counsel came to me; if my counsel is of no use to you,' 'See what is best and do it in this matter, and make my counsel provision for your soul.' After that she called together all the wise, and laid out all her counsel before them. She brought the keys to the treasury of the two kings, who had been learned and devout, and she revealed what was hidden before the seasoned and the great. She divided it all among them fairly, granting the full wish of both her sons. Then Gav spoke this way to Talkhand: 'You good-hearted, renowned, and new-found friend,' 'I have heard that Jamhur, for some time, was higher than us in years and in wisdom.' 'Your father, that precious man of fine nature, never once desired the throne before him.' 'He never felt shame at being the younger, and never sought superiority over his elders.' 'See whether so just a Lord would approve that I should gird myself in service before the younger one.' Your mother spoke nothing but justice; why should your heart delight in cruelty? Let us call in some of the great ones from the army, wise men who have traveled the world and know it well. When we have heard the words of the learned, we will trust their judgment and their counsel. They left their mother's hall with this talk, their hearts full of the search for answers. The two young men agreed on this: that afterward, from the champions and warriors, we will hear the words of the wise and the pure, and follow whatever they judge best. For from them we learned knowledge, and through wisdom we kindled light in our hearts. Two wise counselors came to guide them, and every kind of opinion passed between them. One wise man wanted Gav to be the king, for Gav was the elder ruling in Sandali. The other, who had been Talkhand's teacher, was also a man of wisdom and sound mind. This one argued against that, and that against this, until the two chiefs took up enmity. Two thrones had been set up in the hall, and the two fortunate ones sat upon them. The two bold counselors stood at the right, each demanding his share of the world. They summoned all the nobles and seated them left and right in the hall. The wise ones spoke out: 'You proud and manly men, you who remember the customs of the fathers of these noble, fortunate lords, which of these two virtuous young men do you want as your king; who do you judge worthy?' The priests, the great ones, and the clear-hearted sages fell silent, at a loss. The two young men sat on their two thrones, and the two fortunate wise men had spoken. Both townsfolk and soldiers understood that from this matter war and judgment would come. The whole kingdom would be split in two, and the wise would be left in suffering and fear. One from the gathering raised his head, spoke aloud, and stood up. 'What can we say about the two counselors of the two kings that would be of any use? Tomorrow let us hold an assembly and speak with one another, each face to face. Then let us send messages one by one, so that perhaps the kings may find their wish.' They left the hall grumbling and grim, lips full of complaint and souls full of grief. They said this matter had turned troublesome and had slipped beyond the grasp of experienced men. 'We have never seen two brothers as two kings, with two ill-willed counselors at the court.' They passed one night with frowning faces, until the sun raised its head above the mountain. All the great ones of the city set out at once, everyone who had a stake in the affair. Word spread through every corner of Sandali, and all kinds of talk went back and forth, restlessly. Among the nobles, some favored Gav, while others pointed the way toward Talhand. Tongues grew weary of their arguments; they never came to one mind or joined as one group. That great gathering scattered apart, soldiers and townsfolk, each man for himself. One sent a message toward Talhand, filling his tongue with curses against Gav. Another went to Gav with mace and sword, saying, 'For the king I will not spare my life.' The land of Sandali fell into chaos, in place of all that goodwill and unity. The wise say: in a single house, if there are two commands, nothing stays in order. Then news reached Talhand and Gav that every district now had its own leader, that people would ruin the whole city out of passion; kings should never allow such a thing. That news left them full of dread, and they kept watch by night and day. It happened one day that the two young kings went out, without army or champion. They opened their tongues against each other, their faces creased and their heads full of war. Gav said to Talhand: 'Brother, do not do this; our quarrel has gone past all bounds. My dear, do not stubbornly chase what the wise will not even look upon. You heard how, as long as Jamhur lived, his brother was like a servant to him. He died and I was left, small and belittled; the throne cannot be handed to a mere child. The world was full of good from his wisdom; no one dared seek to take his place. His brother was to him like soul to body, and the assembly summoned him to the throne. If I had been worthy of the throne, no one would have set eyes on us in rivalry. Let us walk the way of the kings of the world, and hear good and bad from the wise. I am older than you in years and in wisdom; you claim that though younger, you are the better man. Do no wrong, do not seek the royal throne, do not fill the land's face with endless dispute.' Then Talhand answered thus: 'No one has won greatness through trickery. I received this crown and throne from our father; I reaped from the seed that he had sown. From now on I will guard the whole kingdom, its treasure and its army, with my sword. Say no more about Jamhur or about us; if you feel so secure, then fight for the throne.' They returned with their heads full of war, and made ready for battle within the city. Soldiers and townsfolk, all bent on war, turned their faces toward the kings' courts. One group sided with Talhand, while another's heart pointed the way to Gav. A great cry rose up at the gate of each king; there was no room for either of them in that city. Talkhand was the first to prepare for war; his brave warriors wasted no time in fighting. He threw open his father's treasuries and gave helmets and armor to every soldier. The whole city was filled with fear from end to end, and the heart of every wise man was split in two, wondering how the turning of the heavens would go, and which of these two great men time would raise up. The whole land learned of these two kings, and troops came flooding in from every direction. Talkhand put on his armor first and washed his hands, ready to shed blood. Gav too brought out his mail and helmet, saying farewell to his father's spirit. In that fury they set off from their places and made ready the backs of the elephants. They set saddles on the elephants' humps; you would think the earth itself was seeking a path. The whole plain rang with bells and Indian chimes, and every ear was filled with the wail of trumpets. The two young kings came to the battlefield, both driven onward by the hunger for more. The sky was dazed by that battleground, and eyes went dark from the dust of the armies. The roar of the drums rose up, and from both sides came the sound of brass horns. The right and left wings were drawn up in order; you would think the whole earth had become a mountain. The two armies stretched their ranks over two leagues, with the two proud kings on the backs of elephants. A gleaming banner stood raised over each one: one bore the image of a tiger, the other a phoenix. In front marched the foot soldiers, spearmen and shield-bearers, fit for the work of war. Gav looked out over that field of war and saw the air like the back of a fighting leopard. The dust hungry for blood and the whole plain running red, and everywhere the spear was the only guide. However much his heart burned with grief for Talkhand, his brother's rage sealed shut the two eyes of reason. Gav chose an eloquent man, one who was a leader among the nobles, and said: Go to Talkhand and tell him not to seek an unjust war against your own brother. Every drop of blood that is spilled here, you will be answerable for it in the next world. Open your ear to good counsel; do not be deceived by the words of slanderers. It must not be that from this battle we leave only disgrace as our memory in the world, so that this land of India is laid waste and becomes the lair of leopards and lions. Turn away from this fighting and clashing, from spilling blood recklessly and unjustly. Gladden my heart with this peace, and free your neck from the debt owed to wisdom. From this border all the way to the sea of China, take as much land as you wish. We will hold our love for you as dear as life, and set the crown upon your head. We will hand over the kingship like a gift of treasure, for this throne and crown are not worth the suffering. But if all you seek is injustice, scattering the gathered flock, you will be blamed in this world, and questioned for it in the next. Do not set your mind on injustice, brother, for injustice cannot stand beside justice. When the messenger reached Talkhand, he came bearing the king's words like counsel. Talkhand answered: Tell him not to keep making so many excuses to avoid the war. I do not call you brother, nor friend. You are neither the marrow nor the skin of our line. You will lay the whole kingdom to ruin when you send your brave men off to battle. All the ill-wishers are on your side; on the day of battle your fortune will be with them. Before God, too, you are the guilty one: of evil name, evil nature, and evil ways. For the blood that will be shed hereafter in this feud, you will bear the curse and I the blessing. And as for your saying, we will hand over the crown, this borderland, and this ivory throne, that whenever you rule, you will grant me a province and give me aid, I would rather no life were left in my body than cast my eyes upon the king's crown. Now I have drawn up the ranks for war; the air has turned to brocade stitched with gold. From arrows, javelins, and spearpoints, no wild ass can now tell saddle from rein. On the battlefield I will scatter heads, and set all his army wailing. I will bring my troops into battle in such a way that even a warring leopard grows sick of the fight. They will bring Gav to me with his hands bound, and his army will see itself broken on every side, so that none of the subjects will ever again put on battle armor against their king. When the wise man heard this answer, he came back and recounted it word by word. Gav's heart grew heavy at the answer, for Talkhand's reply showed no reason at all. Full of worry, he called the sage before him and spoke much about the reply. He said to him: You who seek wisdom, tell me a way out of this. The whole plain is blood, heads without bodies; the passage of souls is now in God's hands. It must not be that from this war an evil fate is left behind for us. The sage said to him: My king, you have no need of a teacher to give you counsel. But if you truly seek my word: do not be harsh in fighting your brother. Send to him a keen messenger, dignified, wise, and soft of speech. You should send a message to him, in the hope that he may be calmed from this war. Give him all the treasure won without toil; choose your brother's life over gold. Since the crown and signet ring are yours, do not quarrel with him over money. I have studied the turning of the heavens: his time will end very soon. Among the seven wandering stars in the sky, I found not one that shows him favor or love. He will be destroyed on this very field of battle; you need not make this matter so hard for yourself. Only, do not let the lure of kingship, the throne and the crown, turn his troubled heart to summon an army. Whatever else he wants, horses or treasure, give it, so that his spirit is not left in pain. If you are a true king and blessed with good fortune, you are the stronger in the workings of fate. The king heard these words from the wise man, and once again laid a fresh plan. His face wet with tears of grief for his brother, he chose a fortunate, smooth-spoken envoy. He told him: Gav, go before Talkhand and say to him that Gav is full of pain and sorrow. From this cycle of combat and this warfare, he begs of the just Creator that He may turn awareness and love in your heart, that you may recoil from war with your brother. There is a wise man beside you, one who lights up your darkened soul. Ask him, by the reckoning of the ten, the two and the seven, how this unjust affair will turn out. However fierce and bold you may be, you cannot escape the turning of the heavens. All around us are enemies; the world is full of treacherous people. The king of Kashmir and the emperor of China, from whom the earth has grown too narrow for us. We will be condemned by both sides, and by the famous warriors who seek strife. For they will say: for the sake of a throne and crown, why did Talkhand and Gav make a battlefield? Are they not of one blood, are they not both of pure, noble birth? If you come from your army to my side, you will make my darkened soul shine. Gold, fine silk, horses and treasure, I will share with you; I will not let you remain in hardship. From my own hand you will receive the realm, the signet and the crown, the armlet and the ivory throne. There is no shame in a brother's love, unless your only desire is for war. If you will not heed my counsel through and through, in the end you will regret this evil. The envoy came like a rushing wind to Talkhand, whose spirit was dark. He said all he had been told, and added more, about kingship, treasure, gold and goods. When Talkhand heard his speech, his wisdom, his judgment and his bearing Since the heavens held a different secret, the brother's message of reconciliation went nowhere. He answered like this: tell Gav that no schemer should ever escape his reward. May your tongue be cut off by a cruel sword, and your body burned in the priest's fire. I heard all your empty words; I see no profit coming from your trickster's marketplace. How can you hand me the treasury and the throne? Who are you anyway in this great assembly? The power, the treasure, and the kingship are mine; from the sun down to the fish beneath the water, all is mine. It seems your time has come, since such grand, far reaching schemes have filled your head. The armies stand facing each other across two miles, ready for the clash of warriors and the charge of elephants. Array your troops and bring on the battle; you came for war, so why the thought of delay? Now you will feel such a blow from me that you will be left counting the stars of your final days. You know nothing but spells, snares, and deceit, now that you have seen your fortune sliding downhill. Far from wisdom and far from the crown and throne, no lucky knowledge ever called your name. The envoy returned, his head full of wind, and repeated the king's whole answer. So it went until dark night showed its face; the messenger kept coming and going between them. They dismounted there on the battlefield and dug a trench in front of the army. The scouts kept circling around the plain, and in this way the calm of night passed by. When the sun raised its head from the sign of the Lion, the earth turned to the likeness of a sea of water. The sun spread out a yellow veil and laid it over the deep blue land. The trumpets rose in an uproar, and the beat of the drums answered from both royal camps. The banners of the two kings came into view; the armies drew up their right and left wings. Two proud kings stood at the center, and before each king stood a wise counselor. Gav ordered his wise counselor to give the command aloud to the vanguard: Hold the banners upright, every one, and keep the gleaming blades drawn. Let no one set foot ahead of the champions; no foot soldier should move from his place. Anyone who acts rashly on the day of battle is neither wise nor a man of steady nerve. Let me see how Talkhand, with this army, will advance onto the field. Nothing happens but by the will of the pure God, from the shining sun down to the dark earth. I tried counsel and I tried love again and again, but none of it did any good. If our army wins, and the turning of sun and moon grants me victory, do not spill blood for the sake of plunder, for you already have a treasury full and adorned. And if there is any hero in this army who would drive his horse hard toward the center of the line, when he finds Talkhand in battle, they must not so much as let dust settle on him. Offering prayers, with belts drawn tight, they must advance before the raging war-elephant. A shout went up: We obey; by your command we will make our very souls ready. From the other side, before his army, Talkhand spoke to the guardians of his throne: If it turns out that we are the victors, and the turning stars bear good fruit, we will draw all our swords for vengeance; we take refuge in God and hold our breath. When you find Gav, you must not kill him, nor speak a single harsh word to him. Pull him down from that furious elephant's back and bring him to me with both hands bound. At once the blare of the trumpet rose from the entrance of the royal pavilion. Mountain and sea filled with the sound; you would think the turning sky had reversed its course. From the sheer roar and the crack of axes, no one could tell the earth's foot from its head. Because of the glittering arrowheads and eagle-feather shafts, the sun drew in its skirts and hid. The ground became like a sea of blood; plain and valley lay drowned beneath it. The two princes, both kings, drove their two raging elephants out from the army's heart. A cry rose from Talkhand and Gav: Keep clear of the wind of my javelin! Do not raise your hand against your brother in this fight; at the sound of my voice, hold your place. This one said that to that one, and that one the same to this, while the whole earth turned into a sea of blood. The dagger-wielding warriors circled around the battlefield. From the blows of the two kings, those two hungry for strife, blood and brains ran together into a stream. So it went until the sun wheeled off from the dome of heaven, and the fighting passed all measure. A cry rose from the plain, the voice of Gav: You warriors and fresh young champions, whoever seeks mercy from us, do not hold any grudge against him in battle. So that my brother may come to fear the fight; when he is left alone, he will not delay. Many of the heroes begged for quarter; many were killed in the thick of the fray. When Talkhand was left alone on his elephant, Gav called out to him several times: Go, my brother, to your own palace; look upon your hall and your council. You will hardly find a single living body left of that famous gathering of swordsmen. Know every good deed as coming from God, and while you live, give thanks to Him, for you have walked away from the battle alive; this is no time for scheming, nor a day to linger. When Talkhand heard his brother's voice, he twisted with shame and his face flushed red. He returned from the battlefield to the meadow, and troops gathered around him from every side. He opened his treasury and distributed pay; his army grew prosperous, content, and glad. Anyone he saw as worthy of a robe of honor, he dressed in a manner fitting their rank. When his army was made rich with gold, the warrior's heart was freed from sorrow. He sent a message to Gav: 'You who have grown so fond of the throne, you think you have escaped me unharmed; don't lull your heart with idol worshippers' spells. You will suddenly be consumed by fire, your soul pierced, your eyes sewn shut in death.' When Gav heard that harsh message, his heart was washed clean of brotherly love. That speech filled his heart with grief; he said to his wise counselor, 'Look at this strange thing.' The sage said to him, 'O king, you are the heir to your father's throne. You are wiser than those who seek knowledge, and stronger than all who wear the crown. This is my certainty, and I have told the king: by the turning sun and the shining moon, this proud man, until he is destroyed, will keep writhing like a snake through this dark earth. In your reply, do not speak harshly to him; seek reconciliation and treat him with respect. If he makes war, we will make war too, for he acts in haste while we act with patience.' The commander called the messenger before him and spoke to him with many kind words. He said, 'Go and tell my brother: don't keep seeking such harshness and rage. Harshness does not become a king; our father was renowned, and you are famed. I am certain that, from my counsel, you will not turn away or break our bond. But because it is my wish that you remain renowned and honor seeking, I will tell you all that is in my heart, the words my soul inclines toward. Turn your head away from bad advice, toward ease, sound judgment, and the path of wisdom. Speak only justly, my brother, for the world from end to end is trickery and wind. Reach toward righteousness, and all that exists, of treasure and of men who serve the king, I will send to you, every last bit, so your ill-thinking soul may see that in my heart there is nothing but justice; may no one live who does not wish you joy. This is my resolve in the message I have sent, if you, my elder, will heed your own good.' But if your mind holds nothing but war, and you have no will for kindness or ties, then I will now raise an army for battle, an army that will need a whole country to hold it. Let us leave this settled land of ours and lead the whole army down to the sea. Let us dig a trench around our forces and block the road against these warriors. Let us channel water from the sea into the trench and hurl ourselves swiftly into it, heart and soul. So that whoever suffers defeat will find no path of escape past the trench. Whoever fights and wins on this ground, we will spill blood here in this narrow place. Let us take the whole army captive instead; let us not resort to sword and arrow. The messenger turned back and came like the wind, and repeated to Talkhand all that Gav had said. When Talkhand heard the words of Gav, he summoned every leader of the army. He ordered them called before him and seated each in the place he deserved. He told them all of Gav's reply and unveiled every secret from its hiding place. He said to the army: this is a new kind of war, this plan of Gav's, to fight by the sea. What do you see? What counsel shall we take to answer his scheme fittingly? If you wish to stand as one with me, do not turn even a little from what is just. If I seek battle, what matter sea or mountain, so long as the army stands together in the fight? If you are my allies in war, the leopard will not fear the fox's cry. Whoever seeks a great name will win great fortune from the world. A world-conqueror slain with honor is better than a living man whose enemy rejoices over him. Whoever fights fiercely in battle does so only to gain some benefit. From me you shall receive great wealth, servants, and fine adorned horses. From Kashmir to the shores of the China sea, in every city they praise us. I will grant all the cities to the army, once the command, crown, and throne are mine. In reply, all the nobles before him laid their faces one by one upon the dust. Saying: we seek renown and you are our king; now you shall see how fortune turns. A great clamor rose from Talkhand's court, and the whole country stirred with the army's uproar. They led the whole army toward the sea, and after that Gav's forces appeared. The two kings, who bore each other such hatred, made camp facing one another. They dug a trench all around, and when it was deep they let the water pour in. The two armies drew up their ranks face to face, the riders all with foam upon their lips. Each arrayed its left wing and its right, and drew the baggage train close to the sea. The two great kings, full of pain and hatred, set two saddles upon the backs of elephants. Each took his place at the heart of his own force, and each drew up his own army for battle. The earth turned pitch black and the sky went violet, from the endless spears and silken banners. The air grew ebony dark with the dust of the troops, and rang with the wailing of horns and drums. You would think the sea itself was boiling, with crocodiles thrashing in the blood within it. From the blows of axe and mace and blade, a dark cloud rose up out of that sea. When the sun drew its skirt across the sky, it grew so dark that no one could see anyone else. You would think the sky was raining down swords, planting tulips of blood in the soil. The world became so choked with the fallen that even the vulture could not fly across it. One group lay in trenches full of blood, others with heads cut off, flung face down. The sea rose up in waves from the wind, and the army poured in, wave upon wave. The whole plain was brains and liver and hearts, and every horseshoe was caked with mud of blood. Talkhand looked out from the back of his elephant and saw the ground like the waters of the Nile. The whole tide turned against Talkhand; he grew desperate for a path and for water. Between the wind, the scorching sun, and the sharp sword, he found neither rest nor any way to flee. On that golden saddle he slumped and died, and the whole kingdom of India passed to Gav. People set both eyes on wanting more, yet it is having too little that fills the heart with grief and rage. Neither the one nor the other lasts, wise man; choose only what brings joy in this world. However much toil may pile up treasure, all the treasure of the world is not worth the toil. When Gav looked out from the center of his army, he did not see the banner of the new commander. He sent a rider off to the elephant's back, to search everywhere, mile after mile. To find that bright ruby-red banner, the one that turned the horsemen's faces pale. Where has it gone, that the fury of battle has died down? Perhaps the dust has only dimmed my eyes. The rider went and searched from end to end, but nowhere saw the banner of that famous chief. He found the whole center in an uproar of talk, the kingdom's horsemen all seeking their king. The messenger turned back and returned like the wind, and told Gav everything he had learned. The commander climbed down from the elephant's back and walked two miles on foot, weeping. He came and found Talkhand dead, and saw the army's spirit wilted with grief. He looked him over from head to foot, but found no torn skin, no wound anywhere on his body. Crying out, he tore the flesh from his own arms, and sat down beside him, mournful and broken. He kept saying, bitterly: young warrior, you have gone, your soul full of pain and wounded. It was the turning of an evil star that killed you; otherwise no harsh wind ever touched you. You turned your head away from your teachers; you went, and left your mother heartbroken. I gave you plenty of good advice, but my counsel never did you any good. When the wise Gav arrived at that place, he found the world seeking Talkhand lying dead. His brother wept and filled with grief, while the riders cried out across that wide plain. Wailing, he threw himself down before Gav, saying in sorrow: O new lord of the world. Then the wise man readied his counsel; he said to Gav: O high king, What use is this weeping and mourning? So it went, and this was destined to happen. You owe one thanks to the Creator of the world: that Talkhand did not die by your hand. I had told the king everything that would come, reading it from Saturn, Mars, the sun, and the moon: that this young man would struggle so hard in war that he would bring his own fate down upon himself. Now Talkhand's affair has scattered like the wind; through folly and rashness he has passed away. There is an army out there, so full of pain and anger, and every one of them is watching you. Compose yourself, and give us calm; grant your reason's wish through a peaceful heart. For when an army sees its king full of grief and weeping, walking on foot along the road, his honor sinks in the eyes of his troops, and the low become bold against him. A king is like a cup of rosewater: a single speck of dust can ruin it all. He listened to the wise counsel of the sage, and a loud cry rose up from the army: that this army is no longer separate from you; may blessings be upon both these men and those. Take us all, pure of heart, into your protection, and keep us as a remembrance of that noble spirit. After that, when he called the learned men together, he shed much heart's blood down his lashes. The counsel he had given to Talkhand, and what he had heard from him, he told them all. He made a coffin like a throne of ivory, of gold, turquoise, and fine teak. He covered his face with Chinese silk; so passed that famous, renowned lord of India. With pitch and tar, with camphor and musk, they sealed the coffin tight and dry. From that place he marched the army swiftly, halting little on the road or at the way stations. When the kings had chosen the field of battle, their mother lost all sleep, rest, and appetite. She always kept a lookout on the road, passing her days in bitterness. When the army's dust rose along the road, the keen-eyed woman gazed out from her watchtower. The lookout kept watching for two miles, hoping to catch sight of Talkhand's crown and his elephant. From the heights Gav's banner appeared, and his troops spread across the whole face of the land. But no rider came into view from among the army; a scout was sent out from the watchpost. Word came that the army had crossed the mountain by this side, Gav and all who formed his ranks. There was no sign of Talkhand, no elephant, no banner, none of those famed men in their golden shoes. Blood poured from his mother's lashes; again and again she beat her head against the wall. For after this the news had reached the mother that the royal glory had gone dark, that King Talkhand had died there in the saddle, and had left the throne of kingship to Gav. She tore her clothes and clawed at her face, and had the treasurer set fire to the treasury. His mother rushed raging into his palace, her head drenched in blood. She burned the whole palace and the crown of greatness, and after that kindled a towering fire, meaning to burn her own body in the custom of India, to make plain by that grief the faith of India. When the news of the mother reached Gav, he spurred that swift horse into motion. He came and held her tightly to his chest, his lashes full of blood, and began to plead. He said to her: 'Dear mother, listen, for we are innocent of this war. Neither I nor my companions killed him; let no warrior in this gathering think so. For could anyone have spoken a harsh word before him? It was the turning of the evil star that killed him.' The mother said to him: 'You evil doer, reproach will come to you from the high heavens. You kill a brother for the sake of crown and throne; no one will call you good hearted or fortunate.' He answered thus: 'Dear mother, you should not think ill of me. Be calm, and let me show you what happened on the battlefield, the doings of the king and the army. Who dared face him seeking battle? Who would ever have this quarrel in his mind? By the Creator who made justice and love, who made night and day and the turning sky, from now on may these eyes never see love or the throne, no horse, no mace, no seat, no crown, unless I make this matter plain and fill your bitter heart with gentleness. His time had run out at someone else's hand, a fate no one can escape, for who in this world finds escape from death, even if he sheathes his life in a steel helmet? That shining candle guttered out, and in this world no one counts even one breath as safe. And if, once I show you, you are still not calmed, then by the Sustainer who holds all desire, I will burn myself before you in the fire, for the sake of the one who thinks ill of me.' When the mother heard Gav's words, she grieved for his height and his noble stature. His mother said to him: Show me the way; explain how King Talkhand died atop his elephant. So that this whole matter becomes clear to me, and my heart, full of fire, may find some ease. Gav went to his own hall, brimming with grief, and summoned the wise, world seeing sage before him. He told him all that had passed with his mother, who was tormented as though on burning coals. The two sat down together to take counsel, Gav and the wise man, with no crowd around them. The sage told him: You of noble nature, this wish of ours cannot be set right so simply. From every side let us call the young and old, wherever there is a renowned and sharp minded man. From Kashmir, from Dambar, from Marv and Ma, and from those quick witted seekers of counsel. From the sea, from the trench, and from the battleground, let us lay it before the man who seeks the way. Gav scattered horsemen in every direction, to any place where a leading priest might be. One and all they came to the king's court, to that celebrated royal hall. The world's ruler sat down with the priests, the great ones, the wise hearted and the discerning. The sage described that battlefield, how the fighting of war and armies had unfolded. Of the sea, the trench, and the pool of water, one by one they told it to the keen minded. None of them slept for a single dark night, nor did they open their lips to one another. When the sound of the drum rose from the field, the seasoned sages called for ebony wood. Two men of worth and good nature built a board with four sides. Modeled on that trench and battlefield, with the face of an army arrayed upon it. On that board they carved a hundred squares, and he ranked the fighting army in a line. Then two armies of teak and ivory, two proud kings with their elephants and crowns. He saw in it the foot soldier and the rider, all set out in the array of battle. Of the horses, the elephants, and the king's minister, the warrior who launches his horse against the host. All the pieces were shaped by the rule of war, one swift and moving, another slow to act. The king took his place, arraying the center of the army, and on one side the wise, well wishing minister. Beside the king, on either flank, two elephants, elephants gone dusty and dark as indigo. Two camels set to stand upon the elephant's side, and on them two of pure judgment mounted. Beneath the camel, two horses and two men, who seek the fray on the day of battle. The warriors, the two rooks, stood on the two flanks of the two ranks, foam of heart's blood on their lips. The foot soldier would advance from front and rear, wherever there was need for rescue in the fight. When it had crossed to the head of the battlefield, it would sit at the king's side, like the minister. The counselor could move only one square as well; it never stepped ahead of the king. The proud elephant moved three squares, surveying the whole battlefield from two miles off. The camel too moved three squares, rushing and charging across the field of war. No one advanced against the vengeful rook; it raced across the entire battleground. Each piece moved within its own domain, and none went more or less than its allotted step. Whenever someone saw the king in danger, they cried out: 'O king, turn aside.' Then they blocked every path to the king: rook, knight, counselor, elephant, and all the ranks. The king looked in all four directions and saw the army closing in, brow furrowed with menace. Knights and trenches hemmed him in, the ranks pressing left and right, front and back. Worn by hardship and thirst, the king was checkmated; such was the fate the turning heavens dealt him. This was the wish behind the chess of Talkhand, and behind that noble, kind hearted king Gav. The mother watched the game, her heart full of blood in grief for King Talkhand. Day and night she sat, filled with pain and anger, her two eyes fixed upon the game of chess. All her desire and thought were bound to chess, her soul still tormented by Talkhand. She wept tears of blood without end, and chess was the only physician for that wound. So it went on through her wanderings and days, until at last her time on earth was done. Now this tale has reached its end for me, just as I heard it told in ancient days.

Listen to what the cheerful Borzin said, in the moment he brought his hidden secret out into the open. At the court of King Nushirvan, may his name endure forever. From every field of knowledge he sought out a learned sage, so that his court was adorned by such men. Eloquent physicians and skilled warriors, great men and experienced leaders. For every craft a famous master, so that every head wore its own crown. The physician and poet was Borzuya, a man of great power and eloquent speech. He had a share of every science, and in each of these he was renowned throughout the world. It happened one day, at the hour of audience, that he came before the famous king. He said: O king who welcomes knowledge, a seeker, a finder, and a keeper of what he learns, Today I was studying the books of the Indians with a clear and attentive mind. It was written there that on a mountain in India grows a Chinese herb, delicate as Roman silk. When a guide gathers it, blends it, and applies knowledge to it, And sprinkles it upon a dead body, without doubt that body will speak again at once. Now, with the king's permission, I will travel this hard road as though it were easy. I will bring back many a learned guide, hoping to accomplish this wonder. If a dead body comes back to life, it is only fitting, for Nushirvan rules over the whole world. The king said to him: This cannot simply be believed; it must be put to the test. Carry my letter to the sage of India; take care to find the one who is India's guiding light. In this task seek helpers for yourself, and ask all your help from a wakeful fortune. If a new wonder appears in the world, then this saying held a secret hidden within it. Take to that sage whatever is needed, for from him you will surely require guidance. Nushirvan opened his treasury, bringing out what was worthy of kings. Gold coins and brocade, fine furs and silk, jewels and crowns, musk and fragrant ambergris. The king loaded three hundred camels, and the envoy took it all and set out on the road. He came before the sage and delivered the letter, and opened the loads of gifts before him. When the Indian sage read the king's letter, he said: O man of pure and noble judgment, Khosrow has not given me his treasure; all this army and kingship are one and the same to us. With the king's justice, his glory, and his throne, with that bright fortune and that great power, It would be no wonder from the pure Lord of the world if He were to raise the dead up from the dust. Every Brahmin who lives up on that mountain agrees with you and supports this idea. You are my splendid adornment and my auspicious minister, you are that treasure itself, and my rich treasurer. All of India, its good and its bad, lies before you; my greatness rests in your handling of every matter, great or small. They prepared a fine, well-known lodging for him near the king, just as it should be. The steward sent food as well, along with elegant garments and furnishings. That night he went and took counsel with the wise men, with the great ones and the sages of Kanauj. When the shining day lifted its head over the mountain, that world-illuminating candle appeared. The king summoned the learned physicians, anyone who could guide with knowledge. When Borzuy set out toward the mountain, a crowd of physicians went with him. They crossed the mountains all on foot, measuring the way with a wise guide. He selected herbs, both dry and fresh, from the withered ones and from those he saw glowing. Every kind of remedy, dry and fresh, he scattered over the dead body. But no dead man came alive from the herbs; it seems that this elixir proved feeble. He tramped over the whole mountain, step by step, yet his hardship bore no fruit. He realized that this was the work of that King who lives forever and rules over all. His heart burned with shame before the king, and from the great men and from the pain of the journey. And also over the wealth he had brought; he was wounded by that idle talk. He grew heavy-hearted over what was written, for that man had been ignorant and hard of heart. Why had he foolishly written something to the wind, whose fruit was this hardship and ugly rumor? After that he said to the wise men: 'O experienced and praiseworthy sages, whom do you know who is wiser than yourselves, who stands tallest in this gathering?' The assembly answered with one voice: 'There is an old and learned sage here. In years and wisdom he is greater than us, and in knowledge he is better than any master.' Then Borzuy said to the Indians: 'O renowned ones of bright souls, add a little more to all these efforts and lead me to him. Perhaps that eloquent, learned old man will be my helper in this task.' They led Borzuy to him, his heart full of thought, his head full of questions. When the eloquent man reached him, he recounted all his hardships before him: about the matter of the writing that had emerged, and the words he had heard from the experts. The wise old man opened his tongue to him and spoke of every branch of knowledge before him. He said: 'I too found such things written, and rushed eagerly after that same desire.' When nothing came of all those hardships, he had no choice but to listen to more counsel. The plant is like an eloquent speaker, and knowledge is like a mountain that keeps its majesty forever. A body dead is like the ignorant man; the wise man everywhere lives in joy. Beyond all doubt, it is knowledge that keeps a man alive; if a person has no knowledge, do not circle around him. When people grow weary in the search for wisdom, the plant is like Kalila and knowledge is the mountain. A book that shows the road to knowledge: if you seek it, you will find it in the royal treasury. When Borzuy heard this, he grew glad; all his suffering vanished before his eyes like wind. He praised the man and set off for the king, crossing the road as swift as fire. He came before the ruler with words of homage: 'May you endure as long as the world endures.' 'There is a book, O king of wide desire, that in the Indian tongue is called Kalila.' 'It lies sealed and locked away in the king's treasury, a guide to wisdom and to knowledge.' 'Let the king command the treasurer to hand it over to me, if it is no trouble.' The king's soul darkened at that request; for a while he wrestled with himself. He said to Borzuy: 'No one has ever asked this of us, not now, and not in the earliest days.' 'And yet, if the world-ruler Nushinravan should demand of us our body or our soul,' 'we would keep nothing from him of all we have, whether high in rank or low.' 'But you shall read it in our presence, so that my suspicious heart' 'will not tell itself that someone has copied it. Read it, understand it, and see it front to back.' Borzuy replied: 'O king, I ask for nothing more than what you have said; hold to it.' The king's treasurer brought out Kalila, and it became his guide upon the road. Every chapter he read from the book he turned over in his heart all day long. More than he could commit to memory of the book, he read again until the dawn. He remained glad of heart and sound of body, and with knowledge he washed his spirit clean and bright. Whenever a letter went from him to the king of the world, he secretly copied out a chapter of Kalila. By this device he sent the book of the Indians all the way to Nushinravan. In this way, until at last he saw the reply: 'The ocean of knowledge has reached us.' He came from the palace to the ruler, asking leave to return to his own land. The ruler's heart opened, and he honored him, having an Indian robe of honor made for him. Two precious bracelets and two earrings, and a jeweled torque fit for a king, along with fine Indian cloth and an Indian sword, its blade patterned with rippling steel from edge to edge. Barzuy came back from Kannauj rejoicing, having stored much new knowledge in his mind. When the road brought him to that royal court, he went with words of praise up to the king. He told what he had seen and heard from the sages: in place of the herb, knowledge had appeared. The king said to him, 'You admirable man, Kalila has given my soul new life.' 'Now take the key from my treasurer and choose whatever you desire.' The wise man went toward the treasury, but gave the treasurer little trouble. Coins and jewels lay to left and right, yet he asked for nothing but the king's own robe. He put on that precious garment and left, then hurried swiftly to Khosrow's throne. When he came up close to the throne, he praised the king and bowed before him. Then the renowned monarch said to him, 'Without a purse of gold or a royal gem, why did you leave the treasury, you who have suffered so? The treasure suits the one who has known the toil.' Barzuy answered the king like this: 'You whose crown rises higher than the moon's sphere, whoever receives the garment of the king has found his way to fortune and to greatness. Besides, when a hostile man sees me wearing the royal robe, the heart of my ill-wishers grows dark and narrow, while the friend's face keeps its color and its glow. I ask one wish of the king: that some memorial of me remain in the world. When Bozorgmehr writes down this book, let him reveal Barzuy's face upon this labor. Let him make the first chapter a memorial of me, by the command of the victorious king, so that after my death, in the world, my toil will not be hidden from the wise.' The king said to him, 'This is a great wish, worthy of a man of noble nature. It befits your labor well, though the request stands higher than one's station.' Then the king said to Bozorgmehr, 'This wish should not be kept concealed.' The writer sharpened his reed into a pen and set at the head of the book one chapter about Barzuy. He wrote it in that royal book; in those days there was no script but Pahlavi. It stayed with honor in the king's treasury, and no unworthy person looked upon it. It remained so until they told the tale in Arabic, and they called it 'the heroic book.' When Mamun refreshed his bright spirit anew, he set the day's sun to a different measure. He had the heart of the priests and the vision of kings, girded up to master every branch of knowledge. Kalila passed from Pahlavi into Arabic, in the very form you now hear it. It stayed in Arabic until the time of Nasr, until Shah Nasr rose in the world. The noble Abolfazl was his minister, the treasurer of his words and eloquence. He ordered that it be written in Persian and Dari, and so the matter was quickly settled. After that, when his resolve grew firm, wisdom became his guide toward knowledge. He wished that, openly and secretly, some memorial of him would remain in the world. They seated a narrator before them and read the whole book aloud to Rudaki. The eloquent one wove together its scattered parts and strung these gathered pearls into a fine order. Know that whoever speaks with grace brings adornment; but if he is a fool, then he deserves pity. He scattered the scattered tale wider still; once it was joined, it filled the soul and mind with meaning. May the ruler of the world live forever; may time and the earth remain his servants. Do not let worry cramp your heart at all, for you stand far from a lasting, unchanging age. Sometimes on the heights, sometimes in the depths; sometimes with your wish fulfilled, sometimes struck by fear. Neither of these two states lasts forever; in mere existence there is no road of hope for you. Look now at the fate of Bozorgmehr, who rose from the dust up to the turning heavens. The very one who lifted him to the high clouds brought him down again to the wretched dust.

It happened in those days that Kasra set out from Madain to hunt. He chased wild sheep and gazelles across the plain until the game scattered and he was left worn out. From the open flatland he came upon a meadow, and he found trees, grass, and shade. Bozorjmehr rode along beside the king, both out of duty and out of love. Gently the king climbed down from his mount, drawn to rest his eyes on that grassy place. He saw none of his attendants near; only one handsome-faced companion stayed with the king. He lay down for a while in that meadow, resting his head lovingly to one side. On that king's arm there was always a jeweled armband studded with gems. His arm slipped bare from his sleeve, and a bird came toward him from the sky. Down from the clouds came a black bird, gliding until it reached the king's pillow. It looked at the arm and saw the gems, and it saw no one nearby to guard him. His whole army was spread around that meadow, everyone off hunting on his own. The king lay alone in sleep, with no one at his side to keep watch over him. When the black bird saw the armband, it tore open the seam that held those jewels. Once it had torn it open, it swallowed the gems one by one, the fine pearls and the yellow rubies. It ate them and flew up from his pillow, and in that instant it vanished from sight. Bozorjmehr was stricken by what he saw, dismayed at the workings of the turning heavens. He knew that hard times were closing in, that fate would bring both deception and terror. When the king woke and saw him standing there biting his lip in that manner, he guessed that Bozorjmehr, while he slept, had greedily eaten the jewels for his own gain. He said to him: You dog, who told you that a nature's true grain can be hidden? I am not Ohrmazd, nor am I Bahman; my body too is made of dust, wind, and fire. The king wearied his tongue with reproach for a while, but got no answer except a cold sigh. Bozorjmehr withered where he stood, undone by the king and by the turning heavens' deeds, for how quickly he had seen the sign of decline; the wise man fell silent out of dread. All around that meadow was the army, and in its midst the king. Kasra mounted his horse in fury and did not open his eyes the whole way to the palace door. All along the road he bit his lip in rage at the wise man; when he dismounted he was still grumbling. He ordered that iron surfaces be made ready, and that the sage be imprisoned in the palace. Bozorjmehr sat down in that palace, the king's love for him now torn away. There was a young kinsman of his, brave and bold, who served King Nushirvan. Everywhere he was with the king in the palace, and in speaking to the king he was outspoken and free. One day Bozorgmehr asked the king's servant with the sun-bright face: 'How do you serve him? Teach me, so I may work even harder at it.' The servant said, 'Chief of the wise men, know that today the king was the noblest of nobles.' 'When he left the table I poured water for him, but a few drops from the ewer must have wet the ground.' 'The king glanced at me, his servant, in such a way that I felt my sleep and food were finished.' 'When the world's lord grew harsh with me, the ewer went slack in my fist.' The wise man said, 'Get up and bring water, and pour it over the king's hands as before.' The young man brought warm water and poured it gently, gently over his hands. He told him, 'This time, when you wash his hands, do not rush or grow flustered with the water.' 'When he perfumes his lips with a sweet scent, don't hold back the pouring of the ewer.' The next day, when King Nushirvan sat down to eat, they set the table. The servant's heart grew full of worry as he set down the basin once more. Just as the wise man had instructed, he did neither less nor more than that. Following the wise man's word he poured the water, not too gently, not in a hurry. The king said to him, 'You who increase kindness, who told you this?' He said, 'Bozorgmehr.' 'He showed me the way to this knowledge, so that the world's lord and king might see it.' The king said, 'Go tell the wise man: from that renowned rank and that honor,' 'why did you seek lowness instead of high standing, with poor character and unfit judgment?' The servant heard and came running, reached Bozorgmehr, harsh in tone and wounded in spirit. He told him what he had heard from the king, and received this reply from him in secret: 'My condition, seen and unseen, is far better than the condition of the king of the world.' The servant returned and carried the reply, counting the words out one by one. The king was greatly enraged by the answer, and ordered him bound and thrown into a dark pit. Again he asked the attendant how that senseless man was passing his days. The servant came, his face full of tears, and told those words to Bozorgmehr. The good-hearted man answered him thus: 'My day is easier than the king's day.' The messenger turned back and came like the wind, and repeated the whole answer to the king. The king was enraged by the answer and grew like a leopard; he ordered a narrow oven made of iron. They surrounded him with arrowheads and spikes, and hid his head in iron chains. This was the place the king chose for the wise man, drawing his heart away from his love for him. He had no calm by day, no rest for sleep at night; his body full of hardship, his heart racing. On the fourth day the king of the world spoke in secret with his servant. He said: go once to the wise man, take my message quickly and bring back his answer. Ask him: how does your body feel to you now, when your shirt is made of sharp spikes? The servant came and delivered that message, hoping to please the king with his loyalty. The wise young man gave this reply: my day is better than the day of Nushirvan himself. When the man returned and brought the answer, the king's face went pale at those words. From his palace he chose a truthful man who could listen well to the words of the wise. And with him a swordsman, one who was the executioner of that court. He said: go and tell this hidden man that if his answer has color and fragrance, well and good; otherwise the executioner with his sharp blade will show him the whirl of doomsday. You said prison was better than the king's throne, an oven full of spikes with chains and a pit. The man came and repeated what he had heard, and the wise man's heart filled with pain from grief. Buzorgmehr, the pure of heart, said to him: fortune has never shown us its true face. Whether with treasure and a throne or with harsh suffering, we both must pack our bags at last, unwilling. Neither this lasts in the world nor that; good and bad alike surely come to an end. Passing through hardship comes easy to me, while the hearts of crowned kings tremble with fear. The wise man's words and the executioner returned, coming before the proud king. They told the king what they had heard, and his heart was wounded by that reply. By the king's order they carried the wise guide back from that cramped place to his palace. Some time passed over this as well, and Buzorgmehr's face grew lined with wrinkles. His heart grew tighter and thinner, and both his eyes went dark with worry. Since his suffering did not match his reward, he wore away from that pain and wasted in sorrow. It happened that around that time the Caesar of Rome sent an envoy to the king. With a letter, gifts, and offerings came a chest with a lock firmly fastened on it. The message said: around the king there are many heroes and nobles, many pure hearted priests. Without laying a hand on this lock and this chest, let them tell what lies hidden inside. If they speak the truth, we will send tribute, and more than tribute, as is our custom. He said: since there is no escape from this knowledge, the clever priest's heart remains uneasy. The emperor should not demand tribute from us, nor march an army against this kingdom. This is the message I bring from Caesar; now give whatever answer suits you. The king of the world told the envoy: this too is not hidden from God. By God's grace I will accomplish this, and produce a man of pure and clear judgment. For a week enjoy the wine here; be at ease in your heart and feel free. After that, he was stunned by the puzzle, and summoned the nobles and the wise. Each one considered from every angle how to find a solution to that riddle. They studied that casket, its lock without a key, and every priest examined it closely. One and all they set their learning aside and confessed their own ignorance. When the whole assembly proved helpless, the heart of King Nushirvan grew grieved. He said: this secret of the turning heavens, Buzurjmihr will unravel with his thought. But the wise man's heart was already full of pain; his brow was furrowed and his face turned pale. When the king saw him suffering under care, he ordered a fine robe brought from the treasury. The treasurer brought it, and a choice horse; they saddled it for the king to ride. He sent word to the wise man, saying: the sorrow you have felt should not be hidden. The lofty heaven has decreed that some harm from us will fall upon you. Your loss has sharpened my own mind; you have been at war with your own self. An urgent matter has come before me, one that has troubled my quick-thinking heart. A golden casket, its lid sealed tight, fastened with a lock and stamped with musk. Caesar has sent it to us from Rome, along with a renowned priest of that land. The envoy says his lord commanded: reveal this secret from its hiding. Let the wise men of the world declare what lies concealed within this casket. I said in my heart: perhaps the soul of Buzurjmihr will see this hidden mystery. When Buzurjmihr heard these words, his heart filled with fresh grief and old pain. He came from prison, washed his head and body, and first came before the ruler of the world. He kept fearing the king's wrath: the ruler full of anger, and he himself innocent. Dark night and clear day were indistinguishable to him, as he heard the king's message. When the sun raised its crown from the heights, it once more veiled the face of dark night. Buzurjmihr looked toward the west, while the sun shone radiant in the sky. He washed the eye of his heart in the water of wisdom, and sought firm counsel from the learned. He told him: my fortune has gone astray, since my eyes have grown dim from these sufferings. Watch whoever comes toward you on the road; ask about their condition, but never ask their name. Just then a beautiful woman came walking swiftly along the road from the house of Bozorjmehr. The wise seeing man told the sage all that lay hidden before his eyes. The pathfinder said to the questioner: find out whether this moonlike woman has a husband. The chaste woman told the questioner: yes, there is a husband, and a child concealed too. When the learned man heard the woman's words, he laughed astride his striding steed. Right then another woman appeared, and he asked her when the interpreter saw her. O woman, do you have a child and a husband, or are you single and alone? She said: there is a husband, though no child; now that you have your answer, do not delay me. Just then a third woman appeared; he came to her, spoke, and listened. O lovely one, who is your partner, that you walk with such grace and pride? She told me: I have never had a husband, and I do not wish to show my face to anyone. When Bozorjmehr heard these words, see what a thought took root in him. He set off down the road with a grim face, when they brought the seeker before the king. He ordered him to come near the throne; King Kasra's heart grew heavy with grief. Seeing that the learned man's seeing eye now saw nothing, he heaved many a cold sigh from his heart. The king kept apologizing for that deed, since he had wronged an innocent man. Then he began to speak of Rome and the Caesar, recalling that lock and that sealed casket. Bozorjmehr said to the king of the world: may you shine as long as the heavens turn. Let a gathering be held with the casket before the king, and the seeker before the nobles. By the power of God, who gave me thought and made my soul practice truth, I will tell you all that is inside the casket, without laying a hand on that lock or that box. Though the eye has grown dark, the heart is bright; knowledge is armor for the soul. The king rejoiced at his words; his heart bloomed fresh like a rose in spring. That thought straightened the king's back; he called for the envoy and the casket. He summoned all the priests and the young, and seated many a scholar before the sage. Then the king said to the envoy: deliver your message and ask for a reply. When the Roman heard this, he opened his mouth and recounted all of Caesar's words. He said: a ruler victorious in war needs wisdom, knowledge, honor, and a fear of shame. You have the royal glory and majesty of a king: greatness, wisdom, and a strong hand. So too the wise man and the priest who seek the way; tell whoever has spirit that a king is searching. They are all pure of heart in your court, and they are the world's well-wishers of yours. Let these clear-hearted, proud men look upon this same casket, locked, sealed, and marked. Let them say plainly what lies hidden within, matching their answer to reason. After this we will send you tribute and taxes, for these lands can bear the burden of tribute. But if they fall short of solving this riddle, they will no longer demand tribute from these borders. When the wise man heard the messenger's words, he opened his lips and spread out praise. May the king of the world be forever glad, eloquent, fortunate, and just. Thanks be to the Lord of the sun and moon, who shows the soul the road to knowledge. None but Him knows the open and the hidden; in knowledge I feel need, while He needs nothing. Three gleaming pearls lie within the casket, and its case is other than what I have described. One is pierced, another half pierced, and the last has never met the touch of iron. When the Byzantine sage heard this, he brought the key, and Nushirvan looked on. Hidden inside was a small box, and within the box a veil of fine silk. In that box lay three jewels concealed, exactly as the wise man of Iran had said. The first jewel was pierced, the second half pierced, and the third untouched. All the priests called out their praise and scattered jewels of admiration on him. The king of kings turned his radiant face and filled the sage's mouth with lustrous pearls. His heart grew heavy over what had passed; he writhed, and his face filled with folds of grief. Why had he treated this man with such cruelty, after seeing his love and loyalty? When the wise man found the king's face withered, he saw his soul wounded with pain. The sage brought the secret out of hiding and told Khosrow all that had passed. About the band on the arm and the black bird, the thoughts on the jewels and the king's dream. He said to him: this was a thing destined to happen; regret and grief bring no gain. When the turning heavens decree good and ill, it makes no difference: king, priest, or Bozorgmehr. Whatever seed God has sown among the stars must be written upon our brows. May the heart of King Nushirvan be glad, forever free of pain and sorrow. However exalted the king may be, his throne is graced by a good counselor. The work of the great king is the hunt and battle, wine and joy and generosity, justice and feasting. He should know what kings before him did, and shape his own judgment by their example. From filling the treasury to the toil of the army, from courteous speech to those who seek justice. The minister's heart and soul must bear the strain of managing the realm and its wealth. So it was until the time of Nushirvan; he himself was both king and champion. He was the warrior and the sage priest at once, both the commander and the wise man. He kept informed watchers everywhere, never leaving the world to a minister alone. In matters great and small across the world, no one could hide good or evil from him. One well-meaning priest among his watchers rose before the throne and spoke. He said: sometimes you let an offense pass and do not brand that person with a bad name. But here is another question to weigh: what of the guilty one who comes with an apology? The king's written answer was this: whoever confesses to his sin, is like a suffering patient, and we are the physician; he flees the medicine while shedding tears. If one remedy does not make him well, we will not wash our hands of healing him. Another priest said: may you live long, and may justice and giving be your provision too. The commander of Gorgan slipped away in secret, came into the woods and slept a while. The Gilan men carried off his baggage while he lay bare; now he returns to recover his gear. The king answered in writing: we have no need of such an army. How can one guard an army as a sentinel when he cannot even keep himself from harm? Another said: may you live forever; may your seat, your food, and your rest be shared with sages. There is a famed wealthy man here whose fortune has grown greater than your own treasury. The king replied: yes, that is right, for it comes from the glory of our kingship. Another said: O lofty king, may you live long and be safe from all evil. Among the Roman captives that have been brought, many infants still at the breast were taken. In writing he said: those who are small children should not be counted among the captives. Send them back to their mothers, with a glad heart and asking nothing in return. They wrote: a hundred wealthy men from Rome want to buy their kin back with gold. The king said: if out of fear they wish to ransom them, take from each rich man one measure less than his worth. Sell them, and do not demand more, for we have no need of anything from them. By the sword we will take from them their jewels, their purses and plunder, their silver and gold. They said: among the wealthy men of the city are two merchants who spend a large part of the night awake. One of them cannot fall asleep for the sound of drunken revelers, the harp, and the lute. He answered: this trouble belongs to no one but them, and to everyone else who owns a treasure. All the rest live happy and content, because they are free and live without worry. They wrote a line: 'May you live sweetly, and may an evil hand always stay far from you.' In the hall the king of Yemen said: 'When Nushirvan opens his mouth, he speaks more of the dead than of anyone; his heart fills with sorrow while the living stay glad.' He answered: 'Only a man of wisdom and noble birth keeps the dead in his memory. Whoever has washed the dead from his heart, his good deeds are never sound.' One said: 'O king, younger son, you do not walk in the path of your father's justice. You let coins spill onto the ground, so that the one selling them is left grieved.' He answered: 'This is not so. The value of the land also belongs to the seller.' Another said: 'O king of lofty nature, you who stand clear of reproach and blame, you once had a heart full of modesty; why has it become so brazen and hot?' He answered: 'When I had no teeth, I could only suck milk from the breast. When my teeth came in, my back grew strong; now that I am fully grown, I seek meat.' One said: 'Suppose you are now the greatest, greater than us in counsel and knowledge. Why have you risen above the kings of kings? The world fixes both its eyes on your judgment.' He answered: 'Our wisdom passes beyond the sight of them all. Reason, knowledge, and judgment are our ministers; the earth is our treasure, and thought is our treasurer.' Another said: 'Your hawk, O sovereign, has seized an eagle on the day of the hunt.' He said: 'Strike its back, for having turned harsh against its own master. Hang it by the foot from a high gallows, so that harm returns upon it, so that even the lowly in battle will not seek to rise above their king.' Another famed man among the informed spoke thus: 'O sovereign of the world, at dawn Barzin set out with the army, and an astrologer came along the road. He said: O proud and towering man, with such a mighty host and gear as this, once he turns his back upon the king, no one will ever see him again in this age.' By royal decree he wrote: 'The turning heavens have opened their face and love to his judgment. For Barzin, the commander, his treasure and his army, the stars of sun and moon will not turn to ruin.' Another priest said: there was once an agreement with the king, set for a certain time, that they would choose a man of noble, fortunate birth, one who would rule with justice, and would bring word to this court of every wrong or right, however small or great. Goshasb is a proud old man; he would be a fit guardian of justice. The king answered: he has girded himself with greed, and stands far from contentment. Choose someone who lives off his own toil, restrains himself, and keeps his own store. A worldly, hard yet honest man, one who first sees to the needs of the poor. Someone said: the head of the cooks complains of the king and the nobles, that whatever dish he himself craves he must set out on all four sides of the table, yet he may not smell it or reach a hand toward it; the heart of the king's servant trembles. The king answered: from eating too much, desire may turn instead to pain. Another said: everyone finds fault when they examine the king of kings, for he rides out without a mighty army, and the hearts of those who love him fill with blood. Perhaps an enemy plots evil against him, or comes seeking to work harm on him. The king answered: justice and wisdom are what nourish a monarch's body. Even if the just man stands alone, truth is guard enough for him. Another said: you who are wedded to wisdom, the commander spoke on the field of Khorasan, that he dismissed Garzasb from his post; what did the king say about this affair? The king answered: he would not carry out my command, and hid away our agreement. I ordered him to open the treasury's gate of profit and loss to those who deserve it. Whoever falls short in generosity when at work covers over all the king's glory. Another said: the king is great to everyone, generous and pious, so what did old Mehrak the servant do, that his portion shrank and his face turned pale? The king answered: he grew harsh, and set his back upon his own misdeeds. He came to the court and sat there drunk; he holds nothing but wine in his hand. One of the informers, a priest, said to the king: when you march your army against Caesar, you want none but Iranians for the fight, and the world grows narrow for Iran against Rome. The king answered: that enmity is in their nature, and their quarrelling is devilish. Again the priest asked: the king wants troops of a different kind from other kings, which men are they, and what kind of fighter do you need? Lion-felling men with fierce claws? He answered like this: a fighting horseman should never grow weary of battle. The feast and the battlefield are all one to him, whether in the bright day or the dark of night. When the time comes his strength does not fade; he is not troubled whether the enemy is many or few. He said again: king Nushirvan, may you always live glad and bright of soul. At your court there is a man from Nasa, long a servant and administrator. Three hundred thousand coins were found owing from him when they audited his accounts in the treasury office. He keeps complaining that the money is all spent, and he has offended both great and small over it. When the king learned of this, that the chief priest was demanding the sum from the official, he said: do not torment him over what is spent; give him something instead from the treasury. He said again: a warrior horseman was wounded, and with that wound he lingered long, then recovered. He charged the front line of the Romans, then died, leaving small children behind. What does the king of the world command about such a matter, about a small helpless child? He ordered that those four children be given a thousand coins from the treasury. For everyone killed in battle who left behind a small child as his memory, when the scribe reads out his name from the register, the money must be brought to the child without fail. This same way, four times each year; let no one ever be neglected in this matter. He said again: may you thrive for years and months. In Merv there is a commander of the army. He gathered up much money and consumed it, and the people of that region were scattered. He answered like this: that wealth which diminishes the people of a city, why should a treasure be built from the blood of the poor, so that one man is happy while others suffer in body and soul? Give back to each person what was taken from him, and after that send out a proclamation in Merv. Order that a gallows be raised at his door, in full sight of the country and his army. Hang the tyrant alive, with his two feet up and his head hanging down. So that none of our commanders will turn his heart and soul away from our pact. He said again: king who worships God, at your court there are many humble people. They keep praising you for your justice, and offer prayers to the Creator of the world. He answered like this: thanks be to God that no one lives in fear of us. Still, one must watch over them all the more closely, whether they are guilty or innocent. He said again: king of glory and wisdom, the world has filled with the sound of music and revelry. The rich and the humble alike; when night falls, the world fills with the voices of the drunk. He answered: In this whole world, may the humble and the great alike find joy in us. Another said: O king of noble mind, an evil-tongued critic mocks and reproaches you. He says you have given away the treasury so recklessly, though you never suffered the pains of gathering it. The king replied: The wealth that fills and adorns our treasury, if we withhold it from those who deserve it, all its gain will end in loss. Another said: O lofty king, may no harm ever touch your life, the Jews and the Christians are your enemies; they are two-faced and follow the way of the devil. He answered: A mighty king is not truly great unless he offers protection to all. Another said: O renowned king, from your treasury you have given more than three hundred thousand coins to the poor and the beggars, indulging your own generous heart. He said: This too is by our command; giving to those who deserve it is only right. Another said: O king who has never known hardship, such lavish giving will empty the treasury. He answered: An open hand renews a man's strength and standing. When a ruler has become a servant of God, he will never stretch his hand to evil in this world. We have seen the world grow narrow for the narrow-hearted; greed and stinginess were never my desire. The high priest said: O king, the governor of Farakhan collected three hundred thousand coins from the city of Balkh with great toil, and delivered every one of them to the treasury. He answered: I do not want a single coin over which any person feels grief. If sorrow comes from swelling our treasury, that is not the justice of a king. Give it back to the one from whom it was taken, and grant from the treasury whatever more he asks. For a God-fearing ruler does not wish to cause pain in the hearts of his subjects. Rebuild and restore his prosperous house; raise up its roof and make it rich again. If your palace is left in ruin along with all it held, only curses and dark smoke remain after your death. Strike that governor's name from our records; never count such a man among your servants at court. Another said: O king of blessed lineage, you often recall Jamshid and Kavus. He said this so that, after my death, my crown and helmet would not be forgotten. Another said: Why has the king of Iran kept the secret about the proud Bahman? He answered: His reason falters and bends, and he indulges his passions. One said: O king who cherishes the lowly, why have you now become so slow to give? He answered: With the wise I am the same man, and the same with the priests as well. When the whisper of the devil reaches the ear, the heart loses its judgment and the mind its wisdom. The chief priest asked the king of the earth, speaking of kingship and of faith. Which is better: a world without faith or one without a king? Let the wise stand as witness on this. He answered: I have said this very thing, and the pure of faith have heard these words. A ruler never saw a world without faith; instead each person chose a different creed. One was an idol worshipper, one pure in faith; one said a curse was better than a blessing. The world is not ruined by mere talk; speak now the thought you keep hidden. Whenever the throne is left without a king, neither wisdom nor faith holds any worth. One said: O king of hidden joy, you spoke much before the great. One thing was your saying that you are the age itself, that its good and its ill are all through you. Whoever blesses the world, his greeting returns in secret to us. He answered: yes, that is fitting, for the crown of the age is the king's own head. Such rulers are the chief of the world; that is why such a crown sits on their heads. I have surpassed the seal of Nushirvan; the world is old, yet my thought is young. It is no wonder my nature grew keen, that in old age it turned so full of fire. When from the pulpit the preacher says the name of Mahmud, the cross itself bends toward this faith of Muhammad. For a long while I kept saying: this book lay hidden from the sun, from Saturn, and from the moon. When the name of Mahmud became the crown of speech, his praise spread across the horizons. May the age be made prosperous by his name; may the heavens rejoice in his crown. He took the world from the idol worshippers of India, with a sword that gleams like Roman steel.

I heard how Khosrow, the king, once sealed a letter to Hormozd, firm and binding. From the world's ruling king, the sun of the age, the greatest, the proud one, the conqueror of cities. The vigilant, good-doing sovereign, who scatters his treasure without reproach. Who raises the name and throne of Qobad high, who cherishes the crown, the sword, and justice. Who has splendor, grace, culture, and fame, and through the crown of greatness has reached his desire. To our pure son, Hormozd, who has taken our counsel wholeheartedly to heart. May you be joyful in God, with victorious fortune, forever ruling the world with crown and throne. In the blessed month, on the day of Khordad, under a lucky star and a world-brightening omen. We placed the golden crown upon your head, just as we received it from our father. And we repeated the same blessing that fortunate Qobad once spoke over our crown. Stay awake and be a true ruler; be wise, generous, and harm no one. Grow in knowledge and turn toward God, for He is the one who guides your soul. I once asked a man of fine speech, someone old in both years and wisdom: Who among us stands nearest to God? For whom is the path to Him the narrowest? He answered thus: choose knowledge, if you want the Creator's blessing. For the ignorant man is no more than dust; only through knowledge is the pure soul complete. Through knowledge the king becomes worthy of the throne; may you be wise and victorious in fortune. Never become a breaker of vows, for the shroud of the oath-breaker is only dust. Do not strive to punish the innocent, and do not lend your ear to slanderers. In every affair, command nothing but justice, for justice makes your soul glad. Do not turn your tongue toward lies, if you wish your throne to shine with light. If a subject beneath you holds a treasure, leave him at ease with that wealth. Coveting others' goods is the enemy of your own treasure; be content only with what comes from your own effort. If a subject grows rich, still the king remains his shelter and shade. All must rest under your protection, whether the lowly servant or the temple keeper. When someone treats you well, repay him; stand and fight the enemy of your friend. And if you rise to honor in the world, still think of the pain of the body and the wound of harm. This world is a passing inn, whatever it may be; you cannot sit safely within it. Seek virtue, and choose faith and knowledge, if you want the blessing of good fortune. Honor the one who, before you, has made his life a shield against your enemies. With knowledge, bind both hands of strife, if you want to escape harm from evil. When you set the crown of kingship on your head, seek the higher path through goodness. Always keep a wise man beside you; hold him as dear as your own body and soul. The nobles and the merchants of the city must receive justice and their fair share. The man who has neither virtue nor good lineage, do not mention him at all, for better or worse. Do not arm an unworthy man for war, for when you need him, he will not be there. He would hand your ally over to the enemy, and two hard, shameful tasks would fall to you. He carries your weapons into battle, and one day may turn them against you. Have mercy on the wretched and poor; keep away from evil and fear doing harm. Always guard the secret of your heart; never do good or justice merely for show. Do your kindness with measure as well; listen to the words of the seasoned, worldly man. Turn toward the world, but keep your eye on faith, for from faith come a man's honor and his righteous anger. Spend according to what your treasury holds; free your heart from grasping after more wealth. Look at the deeds of the kings before you; you must be nothing but just. For the unjust king earns only curses; want nothing but justice, and never invite a curse. Where now are those heads and crowns of kings? Where are those great ones and the fortunate lords? Of them only their words remain; this passing inn stays with no one. Do not order blood spilled in vain, nor rouse an army to war without cause. Look upon this letter full of counsel; do not tie your heart to this passing inn. By my faith, I have wished you well; I have adorned your heart with knowledge. On the path of the Lord of the sun and moon, cast down utterly the power of the demon. Keep this letter before you day and night; make wisdom the judge within your heart. If you leave a memorial in the world, then the name of your greatness will not fade. May the Lord of the world be your refuge; may time and earth wish you well. May the turning high heavens spin to your desire, far from evil deeds and far from harm. The king who holds justice and wisdom strives to gather them with a sense of honor. Courage in battle, strength of hand, pure faith, and worship of God: Look at the world and see who holds these virtues; when you find him, he alone deserves your praise. Do not seek elsewhere: he is bright as Jupiter, a conqueror of the world, armed with sword and armor. He seized the world from idol-worshippers, and bound the faith's true law upon their hearts with brocade. Now, inevitably, true generosity has come to be, since Mahmud has become king of the world. Whether he seeks a feast or a battle, this is the work of the giver of the world. Abolqasem, that victorious and just king, may the age be glad at the sight of him.

There was an old hero, seasoned in speech, grown wise with years in both word and deed. From the hero's book he tells us this: the priest once questioned King Nushirvan. What is it that a worshipper asks of the Maker of the world, in secret, and that wish is answered, and good fortune settles on the reply? One man lifts his hands toward the sky and begs from the Maker of the world, yet begging brings him none of his desires; his eyes fill with tears, his face with wrinkles. Thus the victorious king answered the priest: ask of God only within measure, for the heart fills with blood over a wish that reaches beyond all reasonable bounds. He asked: whom does goodness suit, and what best graces a great name? He answered thus: whoever finds a treasure lying scattered, gained without effort, and does not give, is unworthy of the throne; in time his fortune will darken. A man is great through wealth and giving both; if you hold treasure and do not give, it is no good. He asked him: what is the foundation of wisdom? Who is glad in wisdom's branch and leaf? He answered thus: the wise man is glad, and so is he who keeps modesty in his nature. He asked: for whom is knowledge useful, and who is without knowledge yet unharmed? He answered thus: whoever nurtures wisdom is nurturing his very soul. From an abundance of wisdom comes benefit, while the witless one lives always in harm. He said: is knowledge better than a king's glory, since glory and greatness adorn the throne? He answered thus: the wise man, through his glory, takes the whole world entirely under his wing. You need wisdom, a good name, glory, and noble birth; by these four the heavens will remember you. Then he asked: who is worthy of the throne, and whose fortune is joyless? He answered thus: first one must seek support from the king who rules the world. Next, generosity, knowledge, and the ways of the court, with a heart full of mercy toward those who seek justice. Sixth, that he grant leadership to one who deserves such high place. Seventh, that of good and evil in the world no words remain hidden from him. When he has glory, wisdom, faith, and fortune, he is worthy of the crown and graces the throne. Eighth, that he tell an enemy from a friend; to do no harm becomes a king well. No ugly name will remain after his death, and in the end he will find the joyful paradise. He questioned him about justice and pettiness, about goodness and about evil-doers. He answered thus: greed and want are two demons, base in nature and hard to satisfy. Whoever craves more and more, the demon in him returns to its old nature. And if out of suffering he chooses meanness, he hoards treasure buried in this dust. He is like a wretched, stubborn demon, for both slide back toward the same disposition. He asked: how many are these things, and what are they, some of which are worth weeping over? And another share is treasure, crown, and fame; by one we are made wretched, by the other content. He answered thus: the wise man measures his words, and lays a foundation for his thought. First, useful speech: he calls it a sweet voice that brings no harm. Second, seeking measure in one's words: the speaker adorns himself with a discerning heart. That he speaks only as much as serves a purpose, and leaves a memorial of it in the world. Third, the speaker who seeks the right moment keeps his honor bright all year long. Fourth, what the wise and graceful call the speaker: they call him a man of good counsel. One who speaks his tale whole and coherent, whether the story is new or old. Fifth, the speaker who is warm, with sweet words and a gentle voice. When you weave your words one into another, you surely gain your heart's desire from them. He asked: how much have you learned, and how have you lit your soul with knowledge? He said: from everyone I learned, I paid off the whole debt of soul and reason. I keep asking even the unworthy for words; tell me, when does knowledge ever reach its end? Look to knowledge and stay far from sin, for knowledge is dearer than crown and throne. He asked: I have seen no praise or glory come to anyone from learning. Yet one must still listen to the wise; I will not name anyone who rose to greatness by it. He answered thus: who ever grows sated with treasure, unless the dust brings him low at last? Knowledge is more famous than any treasure, and dearer in the eyes of the wise. Our words remain behind us as a memorial; do not weigh treasure equal to knowledge. He asked: can an old man become wise, if there is teaching and he takes it in? He answered thus: for the wise old man, knowledge is an unavoidable youth. For the fool, a chosen youth is fitting, though without his grave his dust is destitute. He asked: those who sat on the throne of kings, who once ruled the whole world, Now we recall their names no more; from a grieving heart we bring only a cold sigh. He answered thus: it was never in my heart that such a custom deserved any praise. To hold this world by sword and justice, then to depart like this and leave it in contempt. The elder asked: before this, with everyone you spoke more freely, famous king. Now you hold your tongue lightly and say nothing, neither of new times nor of old. He answered: enough of talk; I seek to reach everything through deeds. The elder asked: at the hour of prayer, the old kings never lingered as long as this. Your praise of God is greater than theirs, your cries and worship more than theirs. He answered: it is the pure God who lifts a worshipper's head from the dust. He makes the heavens turn; he makes the whole world His servant. If this servant fails to know that worth, may he never be free of pain and hardship. The elder asked: since you became king, what more do you owe the Creator in thanks? For your knowledge has grown, while the hearts of the malicious are filled with blood. He answered: my thanks to the Creator are that we rose to power in our time, That no one sought advantage over me by force, and my voice washed the hand of evil clean. The enemy grew feeble in battle with me when he saw my mace and my throne. The elder asked: in the eastern war you were so fierce of claw and so brave, But when you set out to war in the west, you dressed yourself in patience and delay. He answered: a young man gives no thought to suffering or to the pain of the soul. But whenever one's years reach sixty, one must sit down with gentleness. Thanks to the world's Lord and Sustainer, from whom come the good and bad of our days, That in the days of youth we had skill, and slighted neither good nor evil. Now in the days of age we act with wisdom, with judgment, with wealth, and with generosity. The world lies under our rule and culture; the turning sky is the armor of our war. He said to him: the kings of old drew out their words, both open and secret. Your words are fewer and your justice greater; you hold more than the famous ones before. He answered: any king who has the Lord as his friend, Spares his own body no toil or pain, whoever has become the world's guardian. The elder asked: the king was once light of heart; in these days I find him full of thought. He answered: the wise never let fear of harm rest in their hearts. He said to him: the kings of old did not carry their lives from feasting to war in equal measure. He answered: over the wine cup they never once recalled their name in their hearts. For me, my good name has won out over the cup, and my soul has come to accept its time. Someone asked: those kings who existed, they guarded their own bodies with care, with medicines and cures and a doctor's work, so that no tears would ever need to fall. He answered: the body has its fixed hour that comes with the turning of the sky; when that hour holds, medicine is useless; the turning of time will still keep it safe. But once the time to leave has arrived, no caution can turn fate back. Someone asked: they praise so much, they offer worship to the world's Creator, yet not for a moment is one happy in it; the soul is always burdened with worry. He answered: this is no cause for worry; a king's heart is one with the turning wheel of heaven. I fear that anyone who praises me may only be worshiping out of dread of me; praise should never exceed what is real, and we should not pry into a subject's secret heart. He asked him: what is the joy in having a child? What are these longings that come from kinship? He answered: whoever leaves the world to a child will not vanish from memory. When a man has a child, life gains its flavor, and for that flavor he keeps far from sin. And when he dies, his grief is lighter, for his child will still gaze upon his pale face. He asked: for whom is the world an easy place, and why does one regret a good deed done? He answered: the one who worships God takes the reins of time into his hand. He seeks no excess and finds his ease; but whoever plots for more grows fearful. As for what you said about a good deed, keep your heart and soul hidden in the market of goodness. Know this: the most wretched person in the world is one who does kindness to an ingrate. Someone asked: the man who did evil and died, has his name been erased from the world's records? And whoever does good and passes on, time still counts each of his breaths. Why should we praise goodness at all, when death comes and reaps both good and evil alike? He answered: a good deed will find a good market everywhere. The man of good deeds has not truly died; he has found rest and given his soul back to God. But as for the one who leaves behind an evil name, he was evil from the start and evil at the end. No peace comes to anyone left behind by such a man, whose bad name lingers in the world. He asked: what matter is greater than death? And if there is one, how do we prepare for it? He answered: if you pass beyond this dark earth, you will have gained a pure soul. Whoever lived in fear and sorrow, that life is one to weep over bitterly. He asked: which of these two is the heavier, that leaves us so full of pain and joyless? He answered: count nothing as heavy as a mountain except sorrow, for it wears the soul down. What fear is there, if not the fear of grief? In this world nothing but sorrow is unbearable. He asked: who among us is the richest? He said: the one who carries the least pain. He asked: who is the ugly one, far from honor and far from paradise? He answered: the woman who has no modesty in this world, nor a gentle voice. And worse than any man is the one who is ignorant; his whole life passes as if in prison. He claims faith in God yet his body is full of sin; he has blackened his own heart with evil. He asked: which person is truly upright, one whose life and reason bear witness to his heart? He said: the one who, whether it profits or harms him, never speaks falsely nor sets out to do wrong. He asked: which trait is finest, the one that sits like a crown on people's heads? He answered: when a man is patient, no trickery works against him. Not the one who acts only for gain, even if he claims a lofty purpose. Second, generosity that seeks no reward for its giving: it gives freely and washes darkness from the heart. Third, a godly diligence that springs from a pure soul and from wisdom. He asked: what most fills the heart with dread? He said: your own suffering and your own deeds. He asked: which kind of giving is best, that makes the giver noble and great? He answered: from those who deserve it, withhold neither profit nor loss, hold nothing back. The wise man then asked about the ways of the world, opening the subject, both its plain and its hidden sides. He said: I see its order crooked and displeasing, and the turning of its affairs bearing no fruit. He answered: from this ancient wheel of fate, if you are wise and take a lesson, know that God is great, all-knowing, and supreme, the judge over every judge in the world. Do not follow evil ways; keep clear of mere approval; do not measure the world by its profit or loss. Know good and evil both come from Him, who has no partner; His work has neither beginning nor end. When He says 'be,' whatever He says exists; He alone was as long as there was time, and is as long as there is. He asked: who suffers the pain of illness, since the body is like a house and the soul only its guest? He answered: this frail shell of skin suffers only as long as there is life within it. Once the soul has left it, reason knows it belongs to the dust when the soul passes on. The wise man asked about restraint, and said: from whom should greed and need be hidden? He answered: greed and need are things the wise should never let take hold of them. Because of greed you will always be in pain, for no treasure will ever leave you satisfied. He asked: among all kings, who stands first in wisdom, in conduct, in judgment and faith? This was his answer: the ruler who is devout and pure of heart. He is grateful to the Creator who sustains all, and no one lives in dread of harm from him. He fills the good man's heart with hope, and the wrongdoer's heart with fear and pain. He equips his army from his own treasure, and throws all his effort against those who mean ill. He seeks counsel from the wise of the world, and keeps his good and bad plans hidden from the enemy. He asked: what is the purpose of worship, and who is it that truly turns toward God's goodness? This was his answer: a dark nature drives the soul into fine, thread-thin dangers. First, one must know that God exists and is one; by this sign, your guidance is small until you grasp it. From Him he receives thanks for good deeds; in Him he finds safety, and of Him he is in awe. You fear Him only when you seek to do harm; how can safety from Him be anything but a blessing? If you are good-hearted and seek the right path, you will keep your honor before everyone. But if you are a wrongdoer and vile of body, you have already packed your bags for hell. Never grow too bold with this world, for it keeps its own secret hidden from you. Lean toward the practice of faith, and hold this life in high regard. Make wisdom the teacher of your heart, and strive not to be deceived by fate. Do not become known as a sinful man, nor stand in the marketplace of shame and strife. You must not hide in your heart a grief for the next world traded for this one. Sit always in the company of the wise, inclining toward everlasting peace. Lean toward learning and good judgment; let wisdom before God be your guide. Do not speak beyond due measure, for you are new to a work, and the world is old. Do not let music and song leave you drunk, and keep no company with wicked people. Turn your heart from all that cannot be, and forgive whatever deserves forgiveness. Withhold nothing you have from a friend, whether he asks your eyes, or your very flesh and bone. If friend settles accounts with friend, there should be no need for a go-between. When you sit with a man who wishes you ill, act so that he can never get the upper hand on you. When someone seeks the path of worthiness, he needs skill, modesty, and merit. Let no tongue outrun true skill; a just man does not count lying as a skill. One should not measure greatness by wealth, nor look down on anyone for having little. If a suspicious man lets his tongue loose, do not answer his mistrust with harshness. Then, if someone lets their reasoning slip and their words wander past all measure, answer them with balance; speak with warmth and freshness. If out of shame you turn the matter back upon yourself, regret will come to you in the end. When you have no task at hand, do not give yourself to idle pleasure; for the wise, doing nothing is no way to live. No kind of work should shame you, even if it carries no glamour or fine appearance. Be diligent for good in everything, and always keep your ear open to knowledge. Do not reach for any deed whose outcome brings regret and harshness to your face. Show mercy from the heart to the suffering, and let your heart never lean toward pain or injury. The wise one who makes their heart patient will never be small in the ruler's eyes. Such a person knows the measure of their own skill, and gains from each task exactly what it is worth. If a friend praises them beyond their due, it only feeds their pride and crookedness. God does not burden such a person with hardship, even if their store of wealth is scattered and spent. They make honesty their craft and cling to it, turning away from wrong paths and deceit. It is toward this fruit and these branches that the skilled, faithful, God fearing one reaches out. This is the wisdom, and this is the way: incline toward God and take refuge in God. If a king rules with justice, his memory will live on in the world. Just as the justice of Anushirvan endured: though he turned to dust, his name stayed forever young.

This is what the ancient book tells us, from the words of those wise and truthful men: That news reached the flourishing land, came to Khosrow the world-ruler from Rome, Saying: May you live long, for the Emperor has died; he has handed time and earth to another. Khosrow's soul grew heavy with thoughts of death; his ruby cheeks turned pale as a withered leaf. He chose an envoy from among the Iranians, a worldly-wise, noble, and generous man, And sent him to the dead man's son, the flourishing fruit on that green branch. He spoke to him with many gentle words: from this fate no one can escape. He wrote a letter full of grief and pain, his two cheeks pale and wet with tears, Saying: May God grant you long life, may He give you goodness and success as well. Every living creature is born only for death; this world is a passing inn, and we are travelers passing through. Whether we polish a crown or a helmet, none of us can slip free from the claws of death. Emperor or Khan, when the appointed time comes, his head will surely fall into the dust. May you have great reward for your father's passing; may the spirit of the Messiah be your companion. I have heard that you sit on his famous throne, and fortune has arrayed itself around you. Ask us for whatever strength you need: horses, weapons, treasure, or troops. The envoy set out from Khosrow's presence and hastened swiftly toward the Emperor. When he came to the court, they opened the way, and the envoy approached the throne and seat. When the Emperor looked and read the heading, his heart flared up at Khosrow's air of superiority. The lord was young and newly on the throne; he did not even touch the envoy's hand. He asked his questions grudgingly, with a cold glance and a crooked look. He lodged the man in a distant place and paid no attention to the king's letter. For a whole week, everyone who was a counselor gathered together around the Emperor. At last they said: We are the lesser ones; we will not defy the world-king's command. Such a letter was fitting from Khosrow indeed; it need not be pleasant, though it was ill-tempered. But today the Emperor is young and new, foremost by lineage in these frontier lands. For one year at least, do not provoke the young man with talk of superiority, tribute, and tax. Out of stubbornness and willful pride, they wrote back an unfitting, insolent letter, Headed: From the exalted Emperor of Rome; the whole world, end to end, is wretched except Rome. The envoy of Iran's king has arrived; let him report all he saw of our marketplace. Whatever he says of our sorrow or joy, neither grief nor gladness should be hidden. The old emperor was gone, and a new one had risen, one who would raise his head above every lord. Among kings no one truly belongs to anyone; even a lesser king can be a rescuer. They prepared a letter in the Roman fashion and summoned the envoy to the court. When the wise envoy learned the decision was firm, he came to the court and asked for a reply to the letter. They dressed him in a robe unfit for his rank and cleared the hall of the stranger. The emperor said to him: I am no servant, nor am I any less than the men of China or the Hephthalites. It is wrong to belittle a great man, even if your king rules the whole world. Great is the man who has many enemies; as for me, both friend and foe cling to my skirt. Why do you withhold your greatness from me? You are trying to hide the sun behind a cloud. Its light is not diminished by that, nor is it dampened if you spatter blood upon it. When trouble comes to me, you are my king; you are also all that remains to me of your father. Report all you have seen kindly, and seek no ugliness in the answer to this letter. They dressed the envoy in a robe of honor and brought him a horse from the governor's stables. The envoy set out and came back in haste, never pausing an hour at any stopping place. He arrived and reached Khosrow, and told all he had gone through, seen, and heard. His words made the king heartsick; the king said to him: You have reaped only hardship from your journey. I have heard that whoever nurses his own desires reaps punishment for his deeds in the end. If a man cannot tell a friend from an enemy, he will read out the secrets of his heart to you like this. He assumes that I am not his friend, though he himself has neither sinew nor skin to stand on. Now I will not let a single man of Roman blood remain to sit content upon that throne. He holds his head high, saying: I am the emperor, as though he were the greatest among the renowned. From now on I will make Rome's name accursed; I will raise fire from its flourishing lands. By the pure God, by the sun and moon, by the sacred fire Azargoshasp, by throne and crown, I swear that from all he owns in his kingdom an oxhide could barely hold his ancient treasure. My sword's edge will not rest in its sheath; let all the world's pleasures be forbidden to me. He ordered the trumpets sounded at his gate, along with cymbals and Indian bells. They strapped all the war drums onto huge elephants, and the face of the world turned dark as indigo. An army poured out from Ctesiphon into the plain, so vast the green sea itself was stunned by it. From the wailing of horns and the colors of banners, from the surge of riders in golden boots, you would think the stars had sunk into water, and the turning heavens themselves had fallen asleep. When word reached the Emperor about the king, that he had marched from his palace in fury with an army, he came from Amorium to Aleppo, filling the world with war, tumult, and turmoil. Roman horsemen, some three hundred thousand, laid siege to Aleppo from every side. The armies closed in from all directions to fight, and their fighting allowed no long delay. At every gate the catapults were set, by the Roman commander who was their patriarch general. They cleared the fortress of Saqilan, from that side they prepared to launch their assault. Aleppo became like a sea of blood, and the garrison at Batron pleaded for mercy. In two weeks they took thirty thousand of the Romans captive, and the news came to the king. Countless enemies they killed with arrows, and many were seized in the fighting. Before the army they dug a trench, and at dawn they let the water flood in. With the trench they blocked the king's path, and the king and his army were halted from battle. A long time passed like this, and the army came to need silver and gold. The commander summoned the paymasters, and spoke to them at length about that war. He said, this task has cost us great hardship; by water and trench there is no crossing over. The army needs coin and equipment, also horses, armor, and Roman helmets. The paymasters went toward the treasury, the scribes and the treasurer of the world's king. For the size of the royal army, the coin fell short by three hundred thousand. The priest came to the king swiftly, and reported what coin was left in the treasury. The king's face grew grim at this matter, and he ordered Bozorgmehr to come. He said to him, if the royal treasury is empty, what use to me is the imperial throne? Go now and call for the caravan drivers; set the swift Bactrian camels on the road. Load a hundred camels from the treasury of Mazandaran, and load even more of them with gold coin. Bozorgmehr said to the world's king, O king of wisdom, justice, and love, the road to Iran's treasury is long, and the army would sit idle and empty-handed. In these cities all around there are people; some who hold much coin in hand. If you ask a loan of coin from merchant and landholder, they will not be displeased. The king agreed to this plan, since the sage of Iran had made his case. Bozorgmehr sought out a messenger, wise, cheerful of heart, and fair of face. He told him, go from here with a three-horse relay, and pick out one renowned, brave man. From among the merchants and landholders of the city, someone who has a share of good name. For the army, ask for this loan of silver coins; the king will soon order it drawn from his treasury. A messenger of good character came, a young man, wise and of fine conduct. The envoy was a man of subtle thought; he arrived at a city that lay nearby. He sought a loan of silver on the king's behalf, and many wealthy men gathered around him. Among them was a cobbler, a seller of boots, who listened keenly to his words. The man asked how many coins were needed, and the bold envoy named the amount. He said: O wise and wealthy man, forty maunds of coins, each maund a hundred thousand. The cobbler said: I will give this myself, and earn the treasurer's gratitude upon my head. He brought scales, weights, and coins; there was no ledger, no need for pen. When the merchant had weighed out the silver, the envoy was finished with his task. The cobbler said to him: O handsome one, take the trouble to speak to Bozorgmehr. Tell him that I have a young son whose future is not a small matter to my heart. Say, perhaps the king of the world might quietly grant me this joy: that he entrust the boy to the learned men, for the boy has both the means and the ability. The envoy said: I do not count this a burden, since you have shortened my road to the treasury. At night he came to the wise man and spoke about the cobbler's request. Bozorgmehr went happily to the king and, over that wealth, his face lit up. Then he said: Thanks be to God; may I never be anything but pure and knowing of God, that within this kingdom a boot-maker should be so happy and should brighten the world, that he can put aside so many coins; may no injustice ever wound him. See now what he desires; may this same way and manner remain with us. When you repay his loan of a hundred thousand coins, give it, so a good memory of us remains. By such subjects the realm grows bold; through them the world-seeker keeps his throne and crown. May no unjust king ever sit happy upon the throne and enjoy his days. Bozorgmehr said to the king of the world: O king of good fortune and handsome face, the boot-seller has made one request, if the king will lend his servant an ear. The envoy reports that the man said: May the king of the world be joined with wisdom. I have a son who has come of age, and he seeks a guide toward learning. If the king would lend his hand to this, so that this good child may become a scribe, I will ask God for the king's life, that this worthy throne may last forever. The king said to him: wise man, why has some demon darkened your judgment? Send the camels back just as they came, so we will never be seen begging silver and pearls from him. When a merchant's son becomes a scribe, skilled, learned, and quick to remember, when our son takes the throne, he will need a scribe of good fortune. Should we expect that skill from a mere shoe seller? Do not press me again on this matter. For the wise man of noble birth there would remain nothing but regret and cold sighs. The man who truly knows people would be scorned before him; when he answers, he would still have to give thanks. After we die, curses would fall upon us, if this became the custom of the age. We want no daily bread except from the treasury of justice; ask no coin of him and speak no more of it. Send the camels back on the road right now; demand coin, but not from those who stitch shoes. The messenger turned back and took the money away, and the cobbler's heart filled with pain and grief. Night came, and he was troubled by the king's words; the sound of bells rose from the royal court. The scouts spread out across the plain, circling the army all through the night. When the sun showed its crown from the sky, it draped the earth in a robe of ivory light. When the scouts returned from the edge of the trench, they came before the proud, exalted king, saying: an envoy from the emperor has come to the king, full of sorrow and begging pardon for his wrongs. The messenger came running at once, offering praise before Nushin Ravan. When the Roman saw the crown of Kasra, he drew a cold sigh from deep within. He said to himself: yes, you deserve this throne, with such kingship, courage, and so vast an army. Then those forty Roman philosophers opened their mouths, their hearts full of dread. Each of them brought thirty thousand gold coins as an offering laid before the ruler. When they saw the color of the king's face, they moved off trembling and writhing like snakes. When the king of kings saw them, he treated them kindly and arranged a fitting place for them. The leading spokesman said: O king, the emperor is young and new to power. His father is dead, he has not yet grasped the world, and he does not yet know the seen from the hidden. We are all, every one of us, your tribute payers; we are your servants and under your protection. For you, Rome is Iran and Iran is Rome; why should this land and country be divided? In this age, wisdom belongs to the king of kings, and by it the emperor kept his back straight. Whether the Khaqan of China or the king of India, each one alike serves this crown and throne. If an unripe child spoke without knowledge and without a guide, The king of kings holds no grudge or grief toward him, for the blue dome of heaven rejoices in his passing. The same tribute Rome once paid we shall restore, and seal a fresh and binding pact. Nushirvan laughed at these words, for the envoy had missed the very heart of the matter. He said to him: if their leader is only a child, then his words carry little sense or wisdom. Whether Caesar or this witless guide, ignorance has left his soul feeble and low. All the wise ones of Alexander's line seized victory and rose to greatness. Whoever breaks our covenant, or turns his heart from our will and command, we will turn his thriving land to dust; we fear neither his treasury nor his army. The envoys kissed the ground, the way flatterers always do, saying: O victorious king of noble mind, do not reproach us for what is already past. Every one of us is the dust beneath your toil, all of us are guardians of your treasure. When the king is pleased with us, we shall not be miserable or ill-fated. For the trouble the king of kings has taken here, all the Romans together have no such worth. We will fill ten oxhides with gold coins and bring them to your treasury as tribute and toll. Whether more or less, the command is his; let him accept it from us, though it is unworthy. He answered: in the matter of the treasury, it is the vizier who is fit to take on the labor. All the Romans went before the chief priest, crying out, cursing their evil star. They spoke at length on every subject, laying before him all of Caesar's secrets. They spoke of the gold coins and the oxhides, and of the deal in which Rome's peace lay. The chief priest said: if you give the gold, how much brocade will you add to crown it? When the king turns back homeward, a thousand rolls of gold-woven brocade are needed, so the king may have robes of honor to bestow at any time, on lowly and noble alike. On this they agreed and turned back, and all bowed low before him in reverence. The king remained a while on that battlefield, until he and his army had found rest. From the army he chose a seasoned man who knew how to keep and settle accounts. He gave him a force to collect Rome's tribute and deliver it to the flourishing homeland. From there he set out toward Ctesiphon, with troops behind him and troops ahead. All of them richly adorned with silver and gold, with golden bridles and golden belts. So many silken banners flew above the chiefs, you would say the whole sky had turned to silk. You would say the plains and gates had turned to gold, and the belts, with their gems, become like the Pleiades. When he drew near the city along the road, a great army came out to welcome him. They all dismounted before Khosrow, belts fastened for service, hearts thrown open with joy. Everyone who had ridden the road with the king went on foot up to the palace gate. All the nobles offered praise to that watchful king of justice and faith. When he settled at last upon his seat, the king extended his hand to each great lord. The bootmaker's tale came to its end; three days had passed of the month of Muharram. What did the wise old teacher, the seeker of the world, say about this turning of the times? He said: one day is a rise, another a fall; sometimes we walk in ease, sometimes in dread. In the end the bed is the dark earth; for one a mound raised high, for another a pit. We have no sign from those who have gone, whether they wake and rejoice or lie asleep. Even if they have no provision in that other world, it is still better that death has no chains to hold you. Whether a hundred years or twenty-five, they come to the same thing when the day of pain is recalled. The one who spoke of pleasure and delight is no different from the one who spoke of pain, hardship, and need. I have never seen anyone long for death, neither the lost soul nor the good-natured person. Whether a believer or a devil-worshipping idolater, both raise their hands in helpless dread before death. Old man, once your years pass sixty-one, wine and cup and rest all lose their savor. The wise, pure-minded person does not set his heart on this passing inn of a world. When it is time to prepare for death, even a shirt of fine silk feels like a curse. The body lies frozen in the midst of sin, while the soul, bound for paradise, has lost its way. Many companions remain, and many have passed on; you are left with your cup, alone in the plain. I beg time from the Maker of time, that my heart may stay glad a while longer. For these tales and all these words have grown old, and the years have rolled over them. From the age of King Kay down to Yazdgird, my words have gathered up the scattered dust. I will link them together and clear the garden of weeds; I will make the stories of the kings fresh again. Then I will not hold my heart in sorrow, even if I must pass on from this passing inn. Now what does the clear-souled man say about the wisdom of Nushirvan, ruler of the world? When his years reached seventy-four, the king grew full of the thought of death. He sought a master for the world, one who would first put on the garment of justice. And who would be kind to the poor, generous, and of a clear soul untroubled by malice. He had six precious sons, all noble, clear-sighted, and kingly in bearing. In courage, learning, restraint, and good judgment, they were young men, wise and delightful. Among them the wisest and eldest in years was noble Hormozd, who had no equal. Proud, learned, and handsome of face, he spread his love upon the free and the noble. Kasra ordered his agents to seek out his secrets in private. They watched him day and night, in case he opened his lips to tell a story. Whatever he did, whether ill or good, word of it reached the king of the world. Then the king said to Bozorgmehr: I have been keeping a secret hidden. Now that my years have passed seventy, my head and dark hair have turned as white as camphor. When I pass on from this fleeting inn of a world, the realm will need a master. One who shows compassion to the poor, to strangers, and to his own people alike. One who gives freely, keeps from loving treasure, and does not tie his heart to this passing lodging. I thank God that I have a son, wise, learned, and devout. Of them all, I lean most toward Hormozd, most drawn to him for his judgment and intelligence. In compassion, generosity, and honesty, I see no flaw in his heart. Now summon the priests and the sages, every man who turns his gaze toward knowledge. Call him, put him to the test, and let virtue add to virtue in him. The priests gathered together, each a seeker and counselor in his field. They called the world-seeking Hormozd and seated him among the famed. Bozorgmehr spoke first: O king of good fortune and handsome face, what do you know that brightens the pure soul and mind, and lets the body reap its reward? He answered: Knowledge is best, for the knower is a moon above the great ones. Through knowledge a man finds safety, and shuts out the demon's hand from evil. Next comes patience and compassion, which bring the body its name and adornment. He asked: Tell me how a man profits from goodness, and by what he rises high. He answered: The one who, from the very start, sought to honor everyone in good and ill, and strove so that no heart would suffer much hardship from him. He answered again: Whoever deals justly gladdens his own being through that justice. The questioner Bozorgmehr looked upon that pure-hearted, handsome prince. He said to him: Whatever there is to be said, I will say; you count each point on your fingers. Keep all my questions in mind, and build every answer upon justice. Do not twist your words back and forth. Set your mind on generosity and on giving justice. If you learn this without any doubt, the gate of heaven is opened for you. For I hurried so much in my speech, and I gained more answers than the questioner asked. May the ruler of the world be your teacher, may wisdom be your armor and fortune your friend. Now let me ask, in fairness, all that I know; you give whatever answer comes to your mind. Among sons, which is the one dear to his father, the one worthy and free of fault? Whose heart deserves our pity, so that we should weep over his pain? Who regrets a good deed he has done, so that his heart bears witness to his remorse? Who deserves that we blame him, when we examine his conduct? From what in the world is it best to flee, since a resurrection rises out of its calm? Why should we be glad in these days? What of the past is best to keep in mind? What is the age that deserves our praise, and from what do we gain benefit? Who is more precious than a friend, whose voice turns the heart into a garden? Who has the most friends in the world, ones you can trust openly and in secret? And who has the most enemies, those who wish him the greatest harm? Where is it fitting to find rest, so that the ruler of the world can keep his back straight, secure? What is the most harmful deed in the world, over which one must weep for what he has done? Of the things a person nurtures, what is it that passes away soonest? The tyrant who feels no shame before others, who is the one without love or reverence? Whose speech brings ruin to the world? Who fills the hearts of friends with pain? What is it that brings disgrace, and brings a man harm through his own words? In a single day, from dawn until night rose over the mountain, he never tired of the wise man's talk. When the time for candles came out of the darkness, the chief nobles were dim, dazed by bewilderment. The king grew troubled by their words, and kept looking silently for an answer. The noble Hormozd rose to his feet and offered the king a fitting blessing: May the world never be empty of the king; may you always sit on the imperial throne. May we never see the crown without you, neither the royal custom nor the ivory throne. In humility, may the world be dust before you; may the turning heavens be the antidote to your harm. I will answer every word he spoke; upon this wish I set my auspicious purpose. The wise man asked a question about sons, and from that I must lay the foundation of my answer. A father is glad at heart because of his son; through him his heart is freed from sorrows. If the son is loving toward his father, inclined to goodness and just in his ways. And another thing: where there is mercy, the eye finds a place to be cleansed. A great man whose fortune has scattered ends up a slave before someone unworthy. It is right to weep blood over his plight, for now impurity rules over him. Also, whoever does good to an ungrateful person will be left in fear and dread. Anyone who forgets a kindness done for him strives only to leave reason senseless. He said again: when is choosing the path of flight from safety better than putting up a fight? In a city where the ruler turns to injustice, it is not right for a wise man to stay. One must flee from an unjust king, for from him rises upheaval across the world. He asks: what do you know of the source of joy? A brother, and a beloved, gentle friend. Another asks about the ways of the times, a moment in which the suspicious man loses his doubts. It is fitting that however much he praises him, he keeps adding still more praise. Another asked about the friend, the true man: from every friendship a helping hand is good. If he is wealthy, wear his mantle of protection; if he is poor, exert yourself for him. The one who is more humble and more generous makes his friends' hearts the happier. Another asks: who is the enemy, the one from whom the heart is always in pain and torment? When his tongue grows bold in evil, from his speech it is right that he becomes an enemy. Another asked: what is hard? Whose heart, though harmless, is filled with noise and grief? When one is wicked and sits with a wicked companion, that is a life as bitter as colocynth. Another asks: who is a true witness, one on whom soul and reason both rely? I have seen no witness better than experience, the witness that speaks and holds command. You asked: what is the most harmful deed, whose end you will surely weep over? When desire gains mastery over your heart, that desire passes like wind through the air. In the end regret brings benefit; the flower of longing cannot be touched. Another says: who is more fickle, the one who, when you seek his foot, is already at your head? Such a friend is an ignorant man, evil in nature and shifting in judgment. Another says: who is the tyrant, the wretch whose heart is cut off from shame? When a man acts crookedly, call him wretched; when he acts shamelessly, call him a tyrant. Anyone who takes lying as his trade, I call a tyrant without any light. The corruption you spoke of, whose talk brings it on? Whose harm is the most painful hurt of all? The gossip, the two-faced, and the idle man fill the hearts of the wise with pain. The wise man asked: whose fault is the greatest? The one who regrets his own words. Whoever speaks recklessly is nothing but a braggart in the company. When he is alone and out of sight, he regrets the words he spoke. Yet the moment he opens his mouth again, he trots out those same old boasts. The wise and the man without skill alike, no one escapes creation's decree. So it has been as long as time has turned: one man finds poison, another the antidote. Every question was this and every answer the same: may the Creator of the world bless the king. May all tongues speak at his command; may his generous heart be glad and ever seeking. The great king Khosrow was amazed at him and offered many a royal blessing. The gathering rejoiced at his words, and the king's heart was freed from sorrow. By the king's command they wrote a covenant granting Hormozd the throne and crown. When the Roman parchment dried in the breeze, they set a seal of musk upon it. They handed it to the priest before the nobles: the great and the clear-hearted, wise men. The world's show is not what its deeds are; its hidden truth is nothing but hardship and grief. Whether you wear a crown or endure toil and pain, you will pass just the same from this fleeting house. I have linked this covenant of Nushirvan to the triumph of the young king. Read a book of kings and see who was ever like Nushirvan, in wisdom, justice, feasting, and war; when his day ended, there was no delay for him. You, worn-out old man who will not repent, take hold of reason and turn away from feasting and pleasure. The world seemed fresh again the moment you found the wine cup, and you turned your soul away from repentance. What did that aged singer say when he recalled Nushirvan's counsel? When Hormozd's words came to an end, the priest laid the foundation for a new speech. The counselor and the scribe agreed, then wrote a letter upon silk: a heart-pleasing covenant from Nushirvan to Hormozd, the young and untried. The letter's opening recalled the Just One, then said: this is the counsel of Qobad's son. Know, my son, that this world is faithless, full of toil and grief, pain and misfortune. The happier you are within it, the more freely your heart escapes the ordeal of the age, still, all your joy will stay behind; you must depart from this fleeting house. When the thought of departing rose in me, in the shining day and the long, drawn out night, I searched for a head worthy of the royal crown, a head that would be a crown on every head. We had six wise sons, each heart lighting, generous, and just. I chose you because you were the greatest, wise, and worthy to wear the crown. Qobad had reached eighty when he named me to the kingship. Now that I have come to seventy four, I make you king over the world. In this I sought nothing but peace and goodness, so that blessings may rest upon my soul. My hope is that, by the Creator's will, you will always be happy and prosper through your days. If you give people safety through justice, you yourself will sleep secure and rejoice in that justice. As the reward for goodness you will find paradise; great is the one who plants the seed of good. See that you are nothing if not patient, for harshness does not suit a king. A ruler who is watchful and seeks wisdom keeps his honor all his years. Never go anywhere near a lie; the moment you do, fortune's face turns pale. Keep your heart and mind away from haste; haste lulls reason to sleep. Lean toward good and strive for good; in all things, good and bad, heed the wise counsel. Do not let evil circle around you, for from that evil, without doubt, evil will reach you. Dress clean and eat clean in every way, and remember all your father's counsels. Begin with God and turn to God, if you want a guide to lead you. When you keep the world flourishing through justice, the throne prospers and the age rejoices in you. When people do good, reward them; do not let the labor of their goodness grow stale. Keep the wise glad and close to you, and keep the world dark for the ill wisher. In every matter take counsel with a wise man, and do not complain of the body's toil in kingship. When the wise find their way to you, the crown and throne and cap will stay with you. Anyone who is under your rule, do not condemn to sit in poverty. The great and the free born of the city should receive their share from your justice. Keep the base born far from favor, and do not leave affairs to a tyrant. Turn all your ear and heart toward the poor; treat their every trouble as your own sorrow. And if an enemy should become a friend, then plant the seed of goodness in your garden. When a famous king gives justice from within himself, the world grows glad through him, and he is glad through you. Do not keep your treasure locked away from those who deserve it; be generous to the devout, God fearing man. If you put my advice to work, your crown will always stand tall. May goodness be your generous wellwisher, and may all good things shelter beneath you. Do not let my words slip from your memory, even if you are kept far from my sight. May your head stay green, your heart glad, your body pure and safe from the malice of the spiteful. May wisdom always guard you, and may all your thoughts turn toward good. When I pass from this wide world, a fine palace must be raised. In a place so remote that no traveler passes there, where not even the swift-winged vulture can reach. A tall hall with a doorway high against the sky, raised up like the length of ten lassos. Inscribe upon it my court, my greatness, my treasure, and my army. Spread there in abundance carpets of every kind, along with colors, perfumes, and scattered offerings. Enrich my body with camphor, and crown my helmet with musk. Bring five bolts of the finest gold-woven silk, unused, from the treasury. Dress me in the manner of the kings, laying me among us in the way of our good ancestors. In this same fashion make an ivory throne, with an ivory crown hung above it. And all that is golden set before it, whether bowl or cup or jewel. Twenty cups of rosewater, wine, and saffron; two hundred of musk, camphor, and ambergris. Placed on the left hand and the right; from my command let nothing be added or taken away. The hollow of the body must be drained of blood and filled with camphor and musk. After that, seal up the gateway; no one should ever see the king. Once the work of that hall is done this way, let no one find a path to me again. Among my children and my noble line, whoever grieves and is wounded by my death, let them rest from feasting and joy for two months; this is the custom after a king's death. It is fitting that every devout soul should weep for this renowned king. Do not go against Hormozd's command; do not count a single breath of yours apart from his will. Many wept over that letter, and he himself lived one more year after his pledge. He passed on, and these words remained as his keepsake; hold this keepsake faithfully. Now, after this, let me adorn King Hormozd's crown and set him upon the throne.