Reign of Bahram Gur

When Bahram Gur took his seat on the throne, he gave praise to the sun and offered blessings. He turned in worship to the Creator, the ruler of the world, ever watchful and all-seeing. The Lord of victory and of greatness, the Lord of abundance and of scarcity. The Lord of justice and of wisdom, by whom the whole world stands upright. Then he said: this crown and throne I received from Him who created my good fortune. In Him is my hope and my fear alike, and I thank Him for all the good He has given. You too should take pride in Him, and strive never to break your covenant with Him. The Persians answered aloud: we have bound ourselves in service to you. May this crown be blessed upon our fortunate king; may his heart and his fortune live forever. Then they all offered their blessings, and scattered jewels over his head. Bahram said: proud chieftains, you have seen the marks of good days and bad. We are all servants, and God is one; nothing but Him deserves our worship. I will keep you safe from hard days, and never hand you over to an enemy. He said this, and they rose from before him, and once more arranged fresh blessings for him. They passed the dark night in conversation, until the sun showed its face on the wheel of sky. Calmly the king sat upon his throne, and the Persians came seeking audience. Bahram spoke to the nobles: these men of good name and good fortune, let us hold to God and take our joy, let us hasten and set our hearts free from this world. He said this, and they brought the royal horse, and arranged for him a kingly court. On the third day, when he sat on the throne, he said: the custom of worship must not be hidden. Let us bear witness to God's existence, and make our souls familiar with this truth. There is heaven, and hell, and the resurrection; from good and evil there is no escape. Whoever does not believe in the day of reckoning, do not count him as faithful or wise. On the fourth day, upon the ivory throne, he placed that admired crown on his head. He said: I take no joy from my treasury for even a moment as I do from a joyful people. I do not crave this fleeting caravansary of a world, nor to return to it in grief and pain. For that world is eternal and this one a mere passage; keep clear of greed and carry no sorrow. On the fifth day he said: I take no joy in another's suffering while I have the power to help. Let us seek the happy paradise through effort; blessed is the one who sowed only the seed of goodness. On the sixth day he said: may I never seek to crush the people beneath me. Let us set the world at ease from its enemies, and strike fear into those who plot evil. On the seventh day when he sat, he said: great ones, wise and watchful, who have seen the world, when we are harsh with a harsh man, we are gentle with the wise. Whoever will not act warmly toward us will see more harm from me than from my father. Whoever chooses to obey our command need suffer no grief, pain, or hardship. On the eighth day when the king was seated, he ordered Javanuy summoned to the court. He told him: to every chieftain, to every noble and to every land, write a letter of kindness and justice, that Bahram has taken the throne in gladness, a lord of mercy and of truth, who flees from crookedness and defect, who has glory and stature, love and justice, and remembers none but the pure Creator. I accept whoever obeys my command; why should the one who brings a remedy think of wrongdoing? I have sat upon the fortunate throne of my father, following the way of just Tahmuras. In justice I will surpass my ancestors; I will guide you in the faith. With everyone I deal in nothing but honesty, even if much crookedness comes back from them. I hold to the faith of the prophet Zoroaster; I will not stray from the path of my forefathers. On the ninth day he said: Zoroaster came before us, and before him Abraham, the truthful prophet. You are each rulers over your own possessions, guardians of the borders and guardians of the faith. You are also masters over your children and wives; blessed is the clever and devout person. We will not heap gold into treasuries, for from such hoarding the poor are left in misery. If God grants me life and gives me success under these stars, read also a book of joy, so that through it you may gain lasting worth and substance. From us, greetings to every kingdom, and especially to the one whose fabric is woven of love. They set the royal seals upon the letters, and he summoned the messengers with a blessing. The priests set out with the letters, riders of clear heart and sound wisdom.

Next day, when the sun rose, the mountains glowed and sleep drained away. This group came to Mundhir, for King Bahram was displeased with them. They said: plead for us before the king, so he may forgive what we have done. For under Yazdgerd's cruelty we were so wretched that the blood froze in the veins of the great. From all his ugly words and deeds, from his injustice, his pain, his torment, our hearts grew cold toward Bahram, since through the king himself we had suffered so. Mundhir went and softened the king, laying warm and earnest words before him. He forgave them, however great their guilt, for the king was noble of nature and just. He adorned the royal palace, and all the great ones came together there. When the place of honor was made ready, they seated each one worthy of it. Everywhere they spread out feasting tables, and called for wine, harps, and musicians. On the second day another company came; the commander never tired of the feasting. The third day was celebration, wine, and joy; sorrow was far from the world king's palace. He said: consider what Numan and Mundhir have done for me, these two pure and noble men. All the nobles called down blessings upon that flourishing plain and its valiant men. After that the king opened his treasury and decked the throne with gold coins and brocade. With horses, spears, and battle armor, with helmets and jewels of every color, he handed it all over to Numan and Mundhir; Javanuy went and counted it out to them. No one could measure the scale of his giving, nor match the greatness of his effort. He gave many gifts to the Arabs too; they left the royal palace rejoicing. Then he brought out royal robes of honor, along with a horse and Pahlavi garments. They gave them to the prince, honored him, and seated him on the fortunate throne. The King of Kings then turned to Narsi; he came down from his throne to a lower seat. Narsi was his brother, of one heart and one voice with him, that renowned young man, younger than he. He made him commander over his army, so the realm might be kept in good order. He entrusted the whole army to Narsi, and by his generosity carried off the kingship. He opened the treasury and gave out pay; his troops grew glad with the gold coins. Then he commanded that Gushasp the scribe come before the welcoming king, a man who was learned in that age and held the reckoning of the world in his grasp. Watchful Javanuy was there with him, for he kept the count of the coins. As for the arrears still owed by the Iranians, he ordered them wiped away entirely. The learned scribes went into the record office, going, for the sake of the money, high as Saturn. All the arrears owed across the whole world they gathered up, one and all. When they reckoned it, ninety and three times over, the debt in Iran came to thousands upon thousands of coins. He forgave it all and set the ledgers on fire; the whole land of Iran rejoiced at him. When everyone learned of this, all called down blessings on him again and again. They all went together to the fire temple, to the halls of Nowruz and the Sadeh feast. They scattered musk upon the fire and called down blessings on Bahram. After that he ordered his scouts to travel all around the world, to seek out those Yazdgerd had driven away and gather them into a single city, so that the king's decree might go out, calling the noble ones back. He sent robes of honor to every lord and granted each a province to match his rank. Every chief priest, mobad, and march-warden who heard Bahram speak in this way came, all of them, to the king's court, open-hearted and full of goodwill. He ordered that whoever sought justice should turn toward the chief of the mobads. When his command went out into the world, a herald stood at the gate and cried aloud: O subjects of the watchful king, be far from sorrow and far from wrongdoing. From now on, bless the one who keeps the land flourishing through justice. In this world take refuge in God and God alone, for He is the sustainer and the helper. Whoever chooses our command and does not turn his head from our judgment and covenant, on him we will heap ever more kindness, and drive spite and greed out of our heart. But whoever flees from justice, we will hang him up for punishment. If the Creator grants us strength, and time turns to our heart's desire, then these good works will only increase, and you will have cause to praise us. At his words, all the land of Iran went about glad-hearted and fresh of face. When his kingship was set in order, joy grew greater and sorrow diminished. All day his work was the hunt, and then horses, the field, polo mallet, and ball.

It happened that one day Bahram Shah went out to hunt lions with a band of brave warriors. An old man came forward, a staff in his hand, and said to him: 'God-fearing king, on your road lives a man rich in silver and gold, a deceitful, evil-hearted Jew. There is also the generous Lambak, a water carrier, known for a fine table and pleasant conversation.' The king asked his attendants who these people were, whose story the old man was telling. A well-known man answered him: 'Noble and celebrated sovereign, this Lambak is a water seller, a generous man with a good table and pleasant speech. For half the day he tends to selling water; the other half he looks for a guest along the road. He keeps nothing from today for tomorrow, and wants no leftovers to remain in his house. On your road there is also a stingy, worthless Jew, whose greed can never be hidden. He has silver coins, treasure, and gold too, silk carpets and every kind of goods.' The king ordered a town crier: 'Go and shout aloud in front of the marketplace, that anyone who buys water from Lambak the water carrier will not enjoy drinking it.' He waited until the sun turned yellow, then, weary and drained, mounted his horse. He came to Lambak's house like the wind, knocked on the door and called out: 'I am a chieftain of the Iranian army; when night fell dark I was separated from the king. If you let me stay in this house tonight, it would be pure kindness and grace.' Lambak was gladdened by his voice and by his fine, agreeable words. He told him: 'Come in quickly, rider; may the king be pleased with you. Even if ten men were with you, I would welcome every one of them upon my own head.' Bahram Shah dismounted from his horse, and Lambak took charge of the animal. Happily he rubbed it down with something, and set a tether around its neck. When Bahram sat down, Lambak ran and brought out a fine chess set. He brought a bowl full of food, and set out every kind of dish. He said to Bahram: 'Worthy man, put away the game pieces and turn to eating.' The king saw what Lambak had laid before him; he smiled and set it in the place of honor. When the meal was eaten, at once the host cheerfully brought a cup of wine. Bahram drank until he grew merry, then reached out for the food. He marveled at the feast, at the fine talk, and at the man's fresh, cheerful face. He slept that night, and early at dawn the king opened his eyes at his host's voice. Lambak said to Bahram Gur: 'Surely your mount went hungry through the night. Be only my guest for this one day too; and if you want company, I will call someone. I will bring whatever is needed; stay with us in joy just for today.' The king said to the water carrier: 'Today we have little to do, and though I must eventually leave here, I will stay right here with you.' Lambak blessed him many times, and his words made his face brighter still. Lambak went and drew a good deal of water, but no buyer for his water appeared. He grew troubled, pulled off his shirt, and pawned his water gear. He took the money, quickly bought meat, and came back home like wind and smoke. He cooked, they ate, and they called for wine; they set up yet another gathering. That dark night, cup in hand, Lambak the water carrier gave himself to the wine. When night turned to day, Lambak rose quickly and hurried to Bahram. He said: 'On this third day be happy; be free of toil, sorrow, and struggle. Join hands with me for this one day as well; consider it as if you had given me gold and treasure.' Bahram said to him: 'God forbid we should not be happy for a third day too.' The water carrier blessed him and said: 'May you stay clear-hearted and paired with good fortune.' He went to the market, took his waterskin and gear, and left them as a pledge with a well-off man. He bought what was needed and came running, glad, back to Bahram. He said to him: 'Help me with the cooking, for a man is nourished by good food.' Bahram quickly took the meat from him, cut it up, and added it to the dishes on the fire. When the meal was eaten they took up the cup, and first they spoke the great king's name. When the wine was drunk, Lambak made a bed for him, and set a candle at his pillow. On the fourth day, when the sun blazed forth, Bahram Gur woke from sleep. The host came and said: 'Renowned one, you have stayed in this cramped, dark house. You are not at ease in this home, unless you have no fear of the king of Iran. Stay two more weeks in this poor house, if your heart so desires.' Bahram Shah blessed him: 'May you be glad and happy through every month and year. For three days we were happy in this house, so that we remembered the kings of the world. I will speak of your deeds in a certain place, which will brighten your heart and your fortune, so that this hospitality of yours will bear fruit; the more you give, the more it will grant you a throne and a crown.' Like a whirlwind he saddled his horse and rode off cheerful from that house to the hunting ground. He hunted until nightfall, then swiftly came down from the mountain and rejoined his band.

When he broke away from the riders, he hurried toward the miserable dwelling of Rahham. He knocked at the door and said: I am left without my king, just as he was left behind from the hunt. Night has come, I do not know the road; I cannot find the army or the king. If tonight I can find shelter in this house, I will be no trouble to anyone. The servant went to Rahham and repeated what he had heard from that noble man. Rahham said: Do not fret at all about this door; tell him he will find no lodging here. The messenger came back and told him: There is no hiding place for you here. Bahram said to him: Tell him I have no wish to travel on from here. I only ask you for a night's shelter; I will not trouble you for anything of yours after that. When the servant heard this, he ran and told Rahham: This rider says, he will not move on from here tonight. The talk went back and forth for a long while. Rahham said to him: Go at once and tell him this place is cramped. There is a poor Jew here, hungry at night, who sleeps bare on the ground. They told him, and Bahram said: If I find no shelter in this house, it will trouble you. I will sleep at this very door and seek no other house; I will not set my mind on anything else. Rahham said: O battle-hardened rider, little by little you are wearing me down. You will sleep, someone will steal your things, and then you will cause me endless grief over it. Come into the house, then, since the world has grown so tight and every affair is drab and colorless. On the condition that you will ask nothing of me; I do not even keep a burial cloth or shroud for the dead. Tonight you and your resting need food, and I have nothing. If this horse drops dung and water, or if it breaks a brick of this house, at dawn you will clear away its dung, sweep it up, and carry the dirt out to the open field. You will also pay the price of the brick; when you wake from sleep, you will give it. Bahram said to him: I make this pact and stake my head on these terms. He dismounted, tied the horse with its bridle, and drew his sword from its sheath. He spread the saddle-felt, made the saddle his pillow, lay down with his two feet trailing on the ground. The Jew shut the door of the house behind him, brought out a tray, and sat down to eat. Then he said to Bahram: O rider, when you hear this tale, keep it in mind. In this world, whoever has food to eat pays no heed to the destitute. Bahram said to him: I have heard this saying from the words of the ancients. I heard it in speech, and now I see it, just as you have recited it from wise old sayings. The Jew brought out wine when the bread was eaten, and the wine added to his joy. He cried out: O weary rider, listen to this ancient tale: For whoever has a bright, easy heart, money is like a coat of armor to him. But one who has nothing stays dry-lipped, like you, hungry at midnight. Bahram said to him: This is quite astonishing; in this world one should learn this lesson, that from the cup you reach a happy end. Blessed is the wine-server, the wine, and a fine cup. When the sun lifted its dagger over the mountain, Bahram Gur slipped away from the house. He set the saddle on that unfed white horse; what a bed, a hard saddle for a pillow. Rahham came and said: O rider, now stand by your own word. You said you would sweep up this mount's dung with a broom, all of it at once. Now sweep and carry away what you promised; I am wearied by an unjust guest. Bahram said to him: Go, become my hired hand, bring someone to carry the dung aside. I will give gold so the filth is carried out and taken from your house to the open field. He said to him: I have no one to sweep the dirt, carry it off, and dump it in a pit. Do not twist the pact you made into something crooked; do not make me call you unjust. When Bahram heard this from him, he laid the ground for a fresh idea. He had a fine silken turban-cloth, its lining filled with musk and fragrance. He drew it out, cleaned up the dung with it, and threw it away with the dirt into the pit. He said to Rahham: O pious man, if the king should hear of my noble deed, he would free you from all worldly need and raise you high above the great lords.

He came and went in his own hall, and all night long he worked out his cure. Full of thought, he slept in the hall that night; he smiled, but told no one his secret. At dawn, when he set the crown on his head, he gave audience to the whole army. He ordered that Lambak the water carrier be brought before him, his arms folded in respect. From the hall they brought in Rahham too, the malicious, ill willed Jew. When he entered the court, they seated him; then they called for a pure hearted man. He told him: go and carry off the loads; see that you are nothing but just. Go to Rahham's house, look it over; see what is stored there and bring it. The pure hearted man went to the Jew's house; the whole place was full of silk and gold coin. Things to wear and things to spread out, things to lay down and things scattered about. It was like a caravanserai and a mansion; there was no room left inside the house. Pearls and rubies and every kind of gem, and on top of each sack a jeweled crown. Even a priest skilled at counting could not have tallied it in a very long time. The priest sent a rider there and called for a thousand camels from the plain of Jahrom. They loaded them all, and still more remained; with a glad heart he drove the caravan on. When the sound of the camel bells reached the court, the clear sighted man came and told the king: There are no more jewels than this in your own treasury; and there still remain some two hundred loads. The king of Iran was left amazed at this; from his heart's secret thoughts arose: How much this Jew has toiled and hoarded! But if he was not fated to enjoy it, what use was the toil? Out of those hundred camel loads of gold and silver, of things to spread and of goods great and small, The lord and king handed them to the water carrier; so Lambak, straight off the road, carried away a treasure. Then he called Rahham forward and said: you who in your greed have become the earth's own companion, Tell me, how long did your prophet live? Why should anyone weep so long in wretchedness for riches? A rider came and spoke with me of those old, worn out tales: That whoever has plenty eats his fill, while the one who has nothing withers away. Now pull back your reaching hand from eating; from now on watch the water carrier eat. Of dung and brocade, of turban and brick, he said much to the vile man of the synagogue. He gave the foul hearted one four small coins and said to him: keep these as your capital. More than this is not fitting for you; a poor man's coin, that is your due. He gave what there was to the deserving; and the Jew went off crying out in grief.

When his hunting cheetah was ready for the task, he stirred, and the thought of the hunt came over him. He mounted a swift steed and rode out to the open plain, his falcon on his fist. A thick, wooded grove came into view before him, a place fit for fortunate people. A green spot, like paradise itself, where he saw neither people nor cattle. He said: 'This is a haunt of lions, and a battleground for the brave.' The bold man strung his bow, and at that moment a male lion appeared. The lion let out a roar as it closed in; the king raised his hand and drew the bow. He loosed the arrow and pinned its flank through to the heart; the heart of the lioness burned with grief for him. Then the lioness charged at Bahram, roaring, and raked his body with her claws. The rider struck a sword blow across her middle, and the fierce beast fell dead in that combat. An old man came out from the grove, his tongue ready with sweet words. His name was Mehrbandad, and he was overjoyed by that sword stroke. He was a landholder, a worshipper of God, and that grove was his dwelling place. When he came up to the king of Iran, he blessed him and bowed low before him. He said to him: 'O renowned lord, may the star of fortune turn to your wish.' 'I am a farmer, O pure of heart, the owner of this land, these crops, and this house.' 'Master of cattle, donkeys, and sheep, worn down and heartsick because of the lions.' 'Now God has placed this deed in your hands, accomplished by your grip and your thumb-guard.' 'Stay a while here in this grove, and enjoy milk, wine, and honey.' 'There are as many lambs as you could need, and trees that bear fruit and give shade.' King Bahram dismounted from his steed and looked about that grove for a place, somewhere the ground was green and water flowed, the kind of spot fit for a young man. Mehrbandad went and brought back musicians and some of the village elders. He slaughtered many a fattened sheep and came forward with a golden cup in his fist. When the food was eaten and cups of wine poured, they set roses and yellow blossoms before him. When Mehrbandad grew merry with wine, he said to Bahram: 'O warrior of good fortune, 'know that you look just like the king, and like his golden throne and his high seat.' Bahram said to him: 'Yes, that could be. The one who paints faces is the true king; 'he creates whatever he wills and chooses whomever he wishes.' 'If I truly resemble the king so closely, I grant you this grove and this dwelling.' He said this, then mounted from that place and, tipsy, rode off to a cheerful hall. That dark night he slept in the garden, remembering the lips of his loved ones.

When he sat down at dawn and called for wine, the great men of the army left in good cheer. Right then a village elder arrived, bringing him some fruit from the countryside. Camel loads of pomegranates, apples, and quinces, with bouquets of roses fit for a king. When the king saw them he treated the man kindly and gave him a place among the champions. This elder who came with fruit and fragrance had the honored name Kabroy. Before the king he drank a cup of wine, downing two heavy measures at a single draught. When the man grew merry from meeting the king, from those famous lords and that festive place, another crystal cup, brimming with wine, stirred a reckless craving in his heart. From among the nobles he reached out his hand, seized that cup of wine, and leapt to his feet. In honor of the king he took the cup and said: I am the wine drinker named Kabroy. When I drain a cup of wine before the king, I want a companion at my side. There are five measures of wine in this cup; here before the gathering I will drink seven. Then I will ride home still in my senses, and no one will hear a drunken shout from me. He drank down seven full cups of wine like that, raising a stir among the wine lovers there. With the king's leave he walked out; who could tell how the wine was working through his body? From that joyful place he set out for the open plain, as the wine burned hot inside his chest. He spurred his horse away from the crowd, galloping across the flatland toward the mountain. He dismounted at a hidden spot, let his horse loose, and slept in the mountain's shadow. A black crow came down from the mountain and plucked out both his eyes there where he slept. The group came galloping after him and found him dead at the foot of the mountain. The black crow had torn both eyes from his head, and his horse stood waiting beside the road. His servants broke into wailing over him, and the whole gathering and its wine turned bitter. When Bahram rose from his sleep, a well wisher came to him and said: a crow, in his drunkenness, plucked out Kabroy's bright eyes at the foot of the hill. The face of the world's king went pale, filled with grief at Kabroy's fate. At once a cry went up from the court: O renowned ones of glory and good sense, wine is forbidden throughout the whole world, whether you are a lowly servant or a famous lord.

A whole year passed like this, with everyone forced to give up wine. Whenever the king held his gathering, he would call for the ancient book of stories. So it went, until a young cobbler took a wife of wealth, good name, and noble birth. But he had no strength for the task at hand, and his mother wept bitterly over his luck. She had a little wine hidden away, and she drew her son into the room. She said to the young man, 'Drink these seven cups so you'll feel safe and glad.' 'Maybe tonight you'll break that tight seal; how can a felt pick chip away at stone?' The cobbler downed seven, then eight cups of wine, and at once his fire blazed strong. The wine made the young man bold; he went in and pierced the wall of that house. Then from there he set off toward his own home, heart glad, having found his way. It happened that from the king's den of lions, one lion broke loose and came into the road. The cobbler was so drunk on wine that his eyes did not see what stood before him. He strode up boldly and sat on the roaring lion, reached out and seized its ear in his hand. On that roaring lion the young man was the master; the youth rode on top and the lion stayed below. The keeper came running like a swift steed, a chain in one hand and a lasso in the other. When the world-ruling king's lion keeper reached that place from the den, He saw a cobbler on the lion's back, seated as a bold rider sits on a donkey. He ran all the way to the royal court and came boldly before the king. He told of the daring he had witnessed; with his own eyes he had seen the unheard of. The king was struck with wonder at this and summoned all his priests and nobles. He said to the chief priest, 'Look into this cobbler, find out from whom he takes his blood.' As the talk grew long, the young man's mother came running to the king and revealed the secret. First she blessed the king: 'May you live in joy as long as time endures.' She said, 'This young man came of age, chose a wife, and settled into married life.' 'But when it came to the act he was too weak; you might say his heart was slack from his own frailty.' 'So I gave him three cups of wine in secret, that our line might live on in the world.' 'At once his cheeks turned ruby red; the felt lifted its head and turned to bone.' 'His courage came from nothing but three cups of wine, who could have known the king would hear of this?' The king laughed at the old woman and said, 'This tale should not be kept hidden.' He told the chief priest, 'From now wine is lawful, but the drinker must be chosen well.' 'One should drink only so much that he can mount a fierce lion and it cannot throw him.' 'Not so much that, as he leaves the king, a black crow could pluck out his eyes.' At once a cry went up from the gate: 'You heroes with golden belts!' 'Let each of you drink wine in measure; keep an eye on both your start and your end.' 'Since wine can guide you toward joy, take care that your body is not left helpless.'

On the third day, at dawn, the king set out with his army toward the hunting grounds. On his left rode Hormoz the headman, on his right the pure-minded priest. They told him stories along the way, speaking of Jamshid and Fereydun. With hounds and cheetahs ahead, and falcon and hawk, he passed the long day. When the bright sun climbed to the top of the sky, he had found no trace of wild ass or gazelle. As the shining sun began to set, he turned back from the hunt with a heavy heart. Before him came into view a green place, full of people and cattle. Many from that village came out to the road to watch the army pass. The king was full of anger and impatience, and wished to stop and camp in that village. None of them offered him a word of blessing; you would think the earth had fastened those donkeys to the ground. The king grew angry with those people and did not look kindly upon them. He said to the priest: this green place, so full of houses, people, and cattle, let it become the lair of beasts and prey, and let the water in its stream turn black as pitch. The priest understood what the king's command meant, and rode off toward the village. He said to them: this green place, so full of houses, people, and cattle, has pleased King Bahram, and he wishes to renew and favor it. Then the priest said to those people: keep your hearts glad forever. The great king has raised you all to be masters, so this fine village may become famous. In this village, women and children are now the chiefs; no one need obey another's orders. In this village, laborer and headman alike must hold equal place. Woman, child, and man, you are all masters; every one of you is now a headman. A shout of joy rose from the prosperous village, that they had all become masters. After that, woman and man became one in will, servant and laborer equal to the headman. When the young man in the village grew reckless, they suddenly cut off the head of the elder chief. They all fell upon one another, spilling blood lawlessly everywhere. When chaos and upheaval broke out in that village, they all suddenly fled from it. The old were left behind, helpless and broken; the tools of farming and labor were gone. The whole village fell into ruin, the trees withered, and the stream ran dry. The fields turned to waste and the houses to ruin; people and cattle fled away. When a year had passed and spring came again, the king rode that road to the hunt. He reached that once thriving, happy place, looked around, and found no village at all. All the trees withered, the houses in ruin, the whole land empty of people and cattle. King Bahram's heart turned grieved; he feared God and was filled with justice. He said to the priest: Ruzbeh, it is a pity for such a fine village to lie in ruins. Go quickly and restore it with treasure; make it so they suffer no hardship again. The priest left the king's presence and hurried swiftly to the ruined place. He rushed from lane to lane, and at last found an idle old man. He dismounted, welcomed him warmly, and seated him close beside himself. He said: old master, who ruined such a thriving place as this? The man answered: once, long ago, the king passed through our land. A foolish priest came with him, one of those famed men, but worthless. He told us all: you are every one masters; see that you count no one above another. He said this, and this village fell into turmoil, full of plunder, killing, and beatings. May God grant that priest only his due; may sorrow, death, and hardship stay fresh upon him. Everything here is steeped in darkness now; it has come to the point where we should weep for ourselves. Ruzbeh was pained by these words, and asked: who among you is the chief? The man replied: the chief was he in whose fields the seed of grass sprang up. Ruzbeh said to him: then you be the chief; stay and lead here in this ruined place. Ask the king's treasury for coins, and for seed, oxen, donkeys, and supplies. Whoever you find idle in the village, put them to work; they are all your subordinates, and you the master. Do not curse that earlier priest, for he did not speak those words of his own wish. If you want helpers from the king's court, I will send as many as you ask, just say. When the old man heard this, he rejoiced, freed from his long-held grief. At once the old man went home and brought the people down to the pond. He began to make the land flourish and to till all the fields. They asked the neighbors for oxen and donkeys, and put the whole plain in order. He and the farmers labored hard, and planted trees in every place. When one quarter was well restored, everyone who saw it rejoiced at heart. Everyone who had once fled that place now wept tears of blood on their lashes with longing. When word spread of the place restored, and of this old headman's labor, one by one they turned back to the village, and dug a stream in every quarter. Fowl, oxen, donkeys, and sheep, each grew more numerous on the farmland. Everyone planted a tree in every spot, and that ruined place became like a joyful paradise. In another three years the village was adorned; from their toil all the master's wishes were fulfilled. When joyful spring came round again, the king rode toward the hunting grounds. With him was his priest, Ruzbeh by name; when they both drew near the village, blessed Bahram Gur looked and saw a land full of crops and livestock. Tall mansions rose from it, and every meadow and plain was full of sheep. Water in every meadow, streams across every field, the whole village full of handsome people. Lambs scattered across its hills and plains; its whole land had become a paradise. He said to the priest: Ruzbeh, what did you do, when this fine village lay in ruin, its people and cattle scattered? What did you give to make the place flourish again? The priest replied: with a single word this old town was brought to its knees, and with a single thought it was restored, and this gladdens the heart of Iran's king. The king had commanded me to restore this green place with the gold of the treasury. But I feared the Creator of the world, and the blame of both the humble and the great. I saw that when one heart holds two conflicting thoughts, both suddenly stir up dust and ruin. Just so, when a town has two headmen, their land will not remain standing. So I went and said to the village elders: masters, none of you is above the rest. The women are headmen, and so are the children; you men are now servants and laborers. When those who were nothing became masters, the head of the true chief fell into the dust. By mere words this pure place fell to ruin, far be blame from me, and let the fear of God remain. After that the king took pity on them, and I went and showed a different path. I set up one wise old man in charge, eloquent, knowing, and a good guide. He labored and turned the ruin to a thriving place, and gladdened the hearts of his people. When there was one master, judgment grew sound; goodness increased and crookedness declined. Secretly I showed them what evil is, and then I opened the door to what is godly. A word is better than a precious jewel, when it is put to use in the right place. The king needs wisdom, and the champion a ready tongue, if you want the soul to rest untroubled. May the king's heart be glad forever; may crookedness and ruin turn to prosperity. When the king heard these words, he cried well done: you deserve a crown, Ruzbeh. He gave a purse of yellow gold to that skilled and discerning man. They dressed him in royal robes and raised his head up to the clouds.

The following week, with priests and nobles, the king of the world went out to hunt. For a whole month he stayed at the hunting ground, drinking wine among his soldiers. The catch from the mountains and the plains grew beyond all counting. Happy at heart, he headed for the city with his army; night fell along the road and the world turned black. The great men of the army rode on, reciting tales of the kings of old. One of them saw a bright fire in the distance, blazing like a feast Bahman might hold. The king looked toward the light and saw, off to one side, a cheerful village. By the edge of the village he saw a mill, with older men scattered around it. On the far side of the fire were young women, who had set up a party at the border of the field. Each wore a crown of flowers on her head; here and there sat musicians. They sang songs of the king's battles, and now and then struck up something new. All were moon-faced, all with curling hair, all in jeweled robes, all their locks fragrant as musk. Near the door of the mill, for play, they had stretched a thread over the grass. Each held a bunch of flowers, half tipsy with joy and with wine. Then a cry rose from the party: 'Long live Bahram the king!' 'He has glory and grandeur, love and a fine face; the turning heavens stand upright at his feet.' 'It is as if wine drips from his cheeks, and the scent of musk rises from his hair.' 'His only prey is lion and wild ass; that is why they call him Bahram Gur.' When the king heard their voices, he turned his reins and rode that way. When he came near the young women, he looked over the place from end to end. He saw the whole plain full of moon-faced beauties, and thought the road back to the city too short. He ordered the cupbearers to bring wine and set it near the king. The cupbearer brought a crystal goblet and placed it in Bahram Gur's hand. From among those women, four of the most renowned stepped forward. One was named Moshk, another Sisenak, one Nar, and another Susanak. They came to the king, hand in hand, faces like spring, tall in stature. They sang a song to Bahram, the wise and famous king. Bahram Gur asked about all four, for his heart had stirred with longing for them. 'You rose-cheeked girls, whose daughters are you, and why have you lit this fire?' One said, 'You cypress-tall rider, alike to a king in every way,' 'Our father is an old miller who hunts game with his arrows in these hills.' 'He should come once the night grows dark, his eyes dazzled by the blackness.' At that very moment the miller came down from the mountain, bringing his catch with a group of men. When the noble, pure old man saw Bahram, he pressed his face to the ground. The king ordered a golden goblet given to the old man who had just arrived. He said to him, 'Why do you keep these four sun-faced girls, when they are of an age to marry?' The old man blessed him and said, 'These daughters of mine have no husbands.' 'They have reached this age still maidens, and in their maidenhood they are pure.' 'But they have nothing more than that; I will say no more about it now.' Bahram said to him, 'Give me all four of them, and do not haggle over dowries.' The old man answered him this way: 'Do not push toward this door you speak of, horseman.' 'We have no place, no home, no land, no silver, no house, no ox, no donkey.' Bahram said to him, 'That suits me fine; I want them even with nothing at all.' He said to him, 'Then let all four be your brides, and your hidden handmaids too.' 'Your eye has seen their faults and their virtues; just as you have seen them, you found them pleasing.' Bahram said to him, 'I accept all four of them from the pure Creator.' He said this and rose to his feet, and his tall voice rang out across the plain. He ordered the army's servants to take those idol-fair girls to the king's harem. The army came in one by one from the plain; all night the troops kept crossing the field. The miller stood amazed at all this, and in the dark night sank into thought. He said to his wife, 'This one, famed and bright as the moon, with such height and such power,' 'When he reached the mill in the dark night,' his wife said, 'he had seen the fire from afar.' 'Hearing this merrymaking of the girls, in his drunkenness he brought wine and musicians.' Then the miller said to his wife, 'Woman, tell me a tale;' 'will the end of this be good or bad?' His wife said, 'This was a work of God.' The man never asked about lineage; wealth was nowhere in his mind. Over all the earth he sought a moon-faced beauty; he did not look for gold or a king's daughter. 'Should an idol-maker in China see girls like these, all praise of idols would break off.' So they talked until the sun rose over the hillside, and the world grew bright as a shining lamp. All kinds of stories passed between them, of the base-born and of the noble. When night turned to day, the chief came to the village and said to the old man, 'Fortunate one,' 'the dark-fated night has come to bless your pillow; that green branch of your tree has borne fruit.' 'Last night, in the dark, Bahram the king was returning from the hunting plain.' 'He looked and saw this feast and its fire, and turned his reins and rode this way.' 'Now your daughters are his wives, kept in peace within his private chambers.' 'With that face, that hair, that honest grace, you made your daughters fit for a king.' 'King Bahram is your son-in-law; from now on you will be spoken of in every land.' 'He has given you this pure land and border; grieve no more, for you are freed from sorrow and fear.' 'Give your commands, for the pledge is yours; we are all your servants, and the command is yours.' 'Now we are all your subjects; more than subjects, we are all your servants.' At this the miller and his wife stood dumbfounded, each one calling out the name of God. The chief said, 'That face and that hair have brought the girls a husband down from the fourth heaven, the sphere of the sun.'

The next week he went out to hunt again, he and the priests and the noble captains of the army. A leader of men came rushing up like a raging wind, a boar's spear in his hand. The chief asked where in the ranks of the army King Bahram might be found. Everyone said to him, 'What do you want with the king? Tell us the reason.' He answered, 'Until I see the king's own face, I will speak no word to the army.' A priest said to him, 'Tell us what you must; you would not even know the king of the world by sight.' They brought the seeker before the king, a man so wise and eloquent. He came, and when he saw Bahram he said, 'I have a matter to tell you in secret.' Bahram Gur turned his reins aside and rode far off, out of the army's sight. The man said, 'King who has seen the world, you must give heed to what I say.' 'In this land I am a farmer and a householder, master of the fields, the soil, the crops, and the home.' 'I was channeling water across my land so my labor would prove its worth.' 'When the water grew abundant it grew bold, and a hole opened up in the middle of a field.' 'A strange roaring reached my ears, so that the place filled me with dread.' 'From that spot came a ringing, echoing sound, and its roar seems to point the way to a treasure.' When Bahram heard this he rode there and found the whole plain green and watered. He ordered that laborers with digging tools be brought, however far the road. The lofty king dismounted from his steed, and they pitched a canopy above the field. Night came; the warriors lit candles, and everywhere they kindled fires. When the sun raised its banner from the sea and polished this violet dome of sky, laborers came from every side and gathered like a mighty army. They set to digging up the earth completely, until that level place became one great pit. When the men grew exhausted from digging, something like a mountain rose out of the soil, a house built of fired brick, plastered with mortar until it seemed a paradise. The digger struck it with his axe from above, and at a distance the doorway appeared. When the priest saw it he went in through the door, and with him another trusted man. They saw a chamber broad and long, its ceiling raised to a great height. Two buffalo made of gold stood upright, with a golden manger set before them. Emeralds were poured inside the manger, mingled with red rubies. The two oxen were hollow inside like a rounded vault, their bellies full of pomegranates, apples, and quinces. Within the quinces were lustrous pearls, each grain of them like a drop of water. The oxen had eyes of ruby, and their heads were bowed as if worn with age. All around them stood lions and wild asses, one with eyes of ruby, another of crystal. Golden pheasants and peacocks of gold, their breasts and eyes all set with jewels. When the vizier saw this he went to the king, his noble mind now crowned like the moon. Gently he said to the king of the world, 'Rise, for treasures beyond counting have appeared.' 'A house of gems has come to light, one whose key was held by the turning heavens.' The king said to him, 'Look, for whoever loves treasure writes his name upon it.' 'See whose name is on that hoard, and in whose time it was buried.' When the chief priest heard this he came and saw upon the ox the seal of Jamshid. He said to the king of the world, 'I have looked; the name of King Jamshid is written on the ox.' The king said, 'Chief of the priests, wiser in every task than all the sages, why should I make my own the treasure that Jamshid laid down long ago? May any wealth that comes to a king by other means than sword and justice never be his.' 'Give all that is here to the deserving, so that no ruin may fall upon us.' 'If we must make a name, let us fill our treasury by justice and the sword.' 'My army needs no share of this; time and the earth are not so narrow for us.' 'Sell these jewels for gold and silver to the widow and the orphaned children.' 'To the empty-handed people of good name, those whose hearts are cut off from fame, rest, and desire,' 'gather them from ruin and from prosperous land, and then count every one of them by name.' He gave away the gold and coin of the treasure as an offering for the soul of world-ruling Jamshid. A tenth of it he gave to the one who showed the way, whom the king had sought out from among the army. 'While I am young and sound of body, why should I go hunting Jamshid's treasure?' 'Whoever takes a jewel that was Jamshid's, may he have no hope of good in this world.' 'When I set my body to hardship with my troops, I will bring back name and treasure from Rome and China.' 'I have the horse Shabdiz and a sharp sword; I will not be deceived, and I know no way of flight.' From there he went to his own treasury, gathered by his own sweat and toil. He summoned the champions of his realm and gave his army a full year's pay. He arranged a feast bright as spring and adorned a hall inlaid with jewels. Ruby wine gleamed in crystal cups, and Bahram Gur grew merry and glad. He spoke to his companions: 'You proud men, you have heard the story of the throne of greatness.' 'From Hushang down to the famed Nozar, who was a legacy left from Fereydun,' 'and likewise on down to Kay Qobad, who set the crown of Fereydun upon his head,' 'consider what remains of those great ones: who now speaks of them but in blessing?' 'When the turning of their days grew short, only their story stayed as a memory of those lords,' 'that this one had nobility of spirit and that one had none; one is blamed and the other praised.' 'One by one, in turn, we all pass on; it is right that we do not trample the world with evil.' 'Why should we seize the treasure of those who are gone, or set our hearts upon their gold?' 'I will not bind my heart to this fleeting inn; I take no pride in the crown, and I have no need of treasure.' 'When a day passes in joy, why should a wise person eat his heart with grief?' 'If any of these subjects of ours, our farmers or our humble servants,' 'if one lowly man cries out in pain from my oppression, then let my head, my crown, and my treasure be lost.' There was an old man named Mahyar, whose years had reached a hundred and sixty-four. When he heard these words he rose to his feet and said, 'You just and upright lord,' 'I have this from the tales of Fereydun and Jamshid and all those famous ones, the great and the small:' 'No king like you has ever sat in this world, nor has anyone heard the like from low or high.' 'In Jamshid's day, when men spoke of it, they called it the treasure of the oxen.' 'It was a treasure scattered through the world, among the lowly and among the great.' 'Had your heart been set on the pearls of the sea, the very jewels would have risen up on the waves to you.' 'No one in the world knew where it lay, whether in the earth or in the jaws of a dragon.' 'When you found it, you did not even look at the treasure, for this fleeting inn brought you only shame.' 'Surely no one has ever seen so many jewels even in the sea.' 'You gave these gems to the poor, the jeweled oxen and all the rest, from end to end.' 'After you are gone, may your name live on; may you flourish and triumph, and may fortune rejoice in you.' 'Many a book of kings would turn black with this tale, and still it would not come to an end.'

On the third day the king rode out, with his army and all the gear for the hunt. For the sake of the hunt, the nobles of Iran came to his court, three hundred horsemen strong. Each horseman brought thirty attendants: Turks, Byzantines, and Persians alike. Three hundred servants set out from the royal palace, carrying the equipment for the hunt. A hundred camels were dressed in silk brocade, their stirrups all of gold, their saddle covers set with pearls. Ten camels were reserved for the king to ride, their seats adorned with brocade. Ahead of them stood seven elephants in fine array, and on one a turquoise throne the color of the Nile. The legs of the throne were all gold and crystal: the seat of King Bahram Gur. With each rode a hundred swordsmen, in golden belts and golden trappings. A hundred camels carried the musicians, every one of them crowned with jewels on their heads. The falconers had a hundred and sixty falcons, and two hundred proud-necked hawks and royal falcons. Behind them all was a single black bird, and it was the dearest of all in the king's eyes. Black in its talons, yellow in its beak, like shining gold against lapis blue. The king called it Toghri; its two eyes were red as two goblets brimming with blood. The Khaqan of China had sent it, along with a throne and a crown set with garnets. A golden collar patterned with peridot, forty bracelets, and thirty-six earrings. He sent three hundred camel-loads of rare Chinese goods, and three hundred rubies fit for signet rings. Then the handlers led out a hundred and sixty cheetahs with the world-lighting king. Each cheetah's collar was adorned with gems, and a golden chain was slung upon it. So the king of kings came to the plain, his crown rising higher than the planet Jupiter. All who were bent on hunting turned their faces toward the waters of the lake. Every seven years the world-ruler Bahram would go to that water for good fortune. When the army drew near the water, the king of kings saw the lake full of birds. He struck the drum, and Toghri rose into the air; no bird could hold its ground before that commanding hawk. The crane was helpless in its talons; to that hawk a bird was prey as a deer is to a leopard. At last it vanished from sight, then a crane came into its grip and it soared up. It flew like an arrow from a bow, a falconer racing along behind it. The king's heart grew anxious at how it flew; he galloped after it to the ringing of the bell. A wide garden came into view before him, with a palace raised in one of its corners. The king rode up with a handful of men, while the army stayed behind at the hunting ground. When Bahram Gur entered the garden, he saw a place with a steep hillside rising above it. In the middle of the flower garden lay a pool, and beside it sat an old man. The ground was spread with rich brocade, and the whole garden was full of servants and possessions. Three girls sat with him, white as ivory, wearing crowns of turquoise on their heads. Their faces like spring, their figures tall, their eyebrows like bows, their hair like a lasso. Each held a crystal cup in her hand, and Bahram Gur gazed at them. His eyes were dazzled at the sight of them; his heart turned dark to the hunting hawk and falcon. When the wealthy landowner saw the king, his face went pale as a fading flower from fear. He was a wise old man named Barzin, and his heart grew uneasy at the king's presence. Barzin rushed from beside the pool like the wind, went to the king, and kissed the ground before him. He said: O king with a face like the sun, may the turning heavens revolve to your desire. I dare not tell you to stay here, but in this land of mine I have two hundred horsemen at your service. Barzin's honor and name would rise to the moon if the king found joy in this garden. The king of the world said to Barzin: today my falcon has vanished from me. My heart is grieved for that bird of prey, for to the other birds it was a leopard hunting game. Barzin answered the king: just now I saw a black bird, with golden bells, its body black as pitch, its talons and beak the color of bright yellow. It came and perched upon that walnut tree; by your good fortune it will come to hand right now. At once the king told a servant: go and search that walnut tree all over. The servant went off like the wind and called out: may the king of the world be ever glad. The falcon has caught itself on a branch; now hold out your hand and take it. When the falcon appeared, the old man said: O king unrivaled and unmatched on earth, may the ground be blessed beneath your feet, O ruler; may all the crowned kings be your servants. Now for this joy, call for a cup; when your heart has found peace, ask for what you wish. The king of the world came down beside that pool, and the old man was filled with delight. At once his steward came, along with his treasury keepers and his treasurer. Barzin brought red wine and a cup, and first spoke the name of the king of the world. He brought the table and they prepared the food; and when they had finished eating, then he brought a crystal cup and placed it in Bahram Gur's hand. The world-ruling Bahram took the wine and drank far beyond the measured line. When Barzin saw such a sight, he went off happy, and set a wine jar in every corner. When Barzin grew merry with wine, he said to those girls: 'You wise and noble ones, King Bahram has come to this garden; he has not come as a tyrant with an army. Come now, singer, offer up your song; and you, moon faced girl, take up the harp.' All three went before the king, having set jeweled crowns upon their heads. One a dancer, another a harpist, and a third with a voice that could rout an army. To the sound of their music the king emptied his cup of wine and grew content. He asked him: 'Whose daughters are these girls who live with you in such joy?' Barzin replied: 'O king, may no one ever live a single day without you. Know that these charming ones are mine, my own beloved daughters. One a singer, one a harpist, the third dances with turn upon turn. The fourth is like a joyful spring, just as the king can see for himself.' He said to the singer: 'Moon faced one, pour out your heart and sing a song for the king.' The lovely girls readied song and harp, and one by one they cleared their hearts of sorrow. First the singer began her song for the king: 'O moon faced sovereign, you are like the moon in the sky, and like a king enthroned in gladness itself. With a face like the moon and a stature tall as teak, the royal throne and crown take pride in you. Blessed is the one who sees your face at dawn; blessed the one who catches the scent of your hair. Waist slim as a lion's, arms mighty and strong, the glory of your crown rises to the clouds. Your face is like the pomegranate blossom; the heart laughs with joy from love of you. Your heart is like the sea, your judgment like a cloud; I see no prey worthy of you but the lion. You split a hair with the point of your arrow; the lion melts like water before your justice. Any army that sees your lasso and that powerful arm of yours, its warriors' hearts and minds fill with dread, however heavy and vast the force may be.' When Bahram Gur heard that song, he drained that heavy crystal cup. The king said to him: 'O proud man, you who have tasted much of the world's warmth and cold, you will find no better son in law than me, who am called the chief of the assembly of kings. Give me all three of your daughters, and I will raise your star up to Saturn.' Barzin said to him: 'O king, may the wine and the cupbearer bring you joy. Who in all the world could even dare to say this, who hides such courage within?' If you accept me as your servant, I will devote myself to this royal throne. I will serve your crown and throne, and honor your glory, your kingship, and your fortune. These three daughters, too, are servants; they stand before you like slaves. The king approved these servants, seeing the three of them like moons from afar. Tall as teakwood and pale as ivory, they were worthy of the throne and fit for the crown. Then the old man said to Bahram: O king who slays enemies and captures lions, Now I will tell you everything I keep hidden, the good and the bad, to the lord of the world. Of things to wear and things to spread out, of things to lay down and treasures to scatter, there are surely two hundred camel loads in my hall, and no more than a single servant. There are bracelets and torques, crown and throne, from which these daughters have grown fortunate. Bahram laughed at Barzin and said: whatever you keep in hiding, let it stay right there where it is; you, take up a cup of wine and turn to joy. The old man said to him: these three moonlike daughters, by the way of King Kayumars and King Hushang, I give to you; they are the dust beneath your feet, all three alive only for your sake. My eldest daughter is named Mah Afarid, the second Faranak, and the third Shanbalid. The king approved of them when he saw them, and chose them above his own ladies-in-waiting. He said to Barzin: these three moons, King Bahram approved of them the moment he saw them. He ordered that four golden litters be brought, fetched by a renowned man from the army. When all three moons were seated in the litter, he brought sixty Greek servants for them. These three moons went into the golden chamber, and stayed there while the king grew drunker. Barzin said to him: O king, ruler of the world, wise and skilled with the spear, I am a servant as long as I live for the king; I offer my prayers to the dust of your court. A servant carried off the king's whip and adorned the court with it. Of the commander who led the proud warriors, no sign remained but his whip. Whenever anyone saw that long stick's shape, he ran forward and bowed before it in reverence. Bahram stayed until he grew drunk; and when he was merry, he settled into the litter. He came to his own golden chamber, to his house perfumed with ambergris. When he had come, he stayed there a week; he feasted much, gave gifts, and made merry.

On the eighth day he rode out to the hunting ground, he and Ruzbeh, with a thousand horsemen. He saw the whole plain filled from end to end with wild asses, and drew his royal bow from its case. He set the string against the two curved horns of the bow, and called upon God the Victorious. It was spring, and the wild asses had paired off, turning to face each other, drawn toward mating. They tore at one another, this one and that, until the ground turned red as rubies with their blood. Bahram waited until, drunk with heat, a male ass broke away and separated from the rest. When the bold male had won, he mounted a female beneath him. Bahram held his war bow drawn taut, and he smiled, delighted, when the ass came into range. He loosed the arrow into the back of that male, and shaft and feather passed clean through the beast. He pinned male and female together with a single shot, and the hearts of his troops blazed with wonder at his blow. Every man in the army who saw that shot heaped praise upon the king. 'May the evil eye stay far from your glory, and may all your days be days of celebration.' 'In courage you are unmatched in this age, for you are king, and sovereign, and champion all at once.'

From there he spurred his night-black horse ahead, until he came upon a narrow thicket. By the thicket he saw two raging lions; he strung his bow and drew it taut. He shot an arrow that tore through the lion's chest and passed clean out, feathers and point sinking into the earth. He turned swiftly on the lioness, and with a single shot pinned her to the male beside her. He said: that arrow had no feathers, and its point was neither sharp nor keen. The army began to sing his praises: O renowned king of all the earth, No one has ever seen, nor ever will, a king like you upon the throne of kings. For you bring down lions with a featherless arrow, and could tear a granite mountain up by its roots. The king rode on into that meadow, and every well-wisher of the army rode with him. They saw a thicket full of sheep, and shepherds fleeing in fear of harm. A head shepherd caught sight of Bahram and ran toward him, seeking a reward. Bahram asked him: who brings sheep to such a useless, dangerous place? The head shepherd answered: O king, I come to this meadow from far off. These sheep belong to a jeweler; last night I drove them down from the mountain to the plain. Their owner is wealthy, yet he trembles in fear of loss. He owns great heaps of famous jewels, and gold and silver and ornaments too. He has nothing but a harp-playing daughter, her curling locks falling ringlet upon ringlet. He will drink wine from no hand but his daughter's; no one has ever seen an old man like this. Were it not for the justice of King Bahram, how could he keep such wealth intact? The king of the world does not scheme for others' gold, nor is his high priest a tyrant. Tell me: who killed these beasts? May the God of the world be his support. Bahram said to him: both these lions were finished off by the arrows of a brave man. When he had killed the fighting lions, that proud rider went on with seven companions. Where is the jeweler's mansion? Show me the way and hide nothing from us. The head shepherd said: go on from here, and a fresh new village will come into view before you. From that place voices carry to the town, near the palace of King Bahram. When the sky drapes itself in black silk, that wealthy man comes out to feast. If you wait there a little while, the sound of merry wine and harp will reach your ears. When Bahram heard this, he called for a fine horse and asked for a robe fit for a king. He parted from his minister and his army, and his head was filled with longing. Ruzbeh spoke to the priests and said: The king of Iran will now go to the village. He has heard of the jeweler's house, so listen well to what I tell you. He means to ask the daughter of her father, and will surely set a crown of gold on her head. He never grows tired of his bed pleasures; in the dark night sleep itself flees from him. His harem already numbers more than a hundred. A king who lives like this is doing wrong. Now he has a hundred and thirty women from the noble houses, all crowned with jewels on their heads. With bracelets, crowns, and thrones of gold, gleaming with gems on Roman silk. The steward has counted them in the king's chambers; not one of them lacks wealth and rank. He demands tribute from every border and land, and each year Rome's tribute is squandered. What a pity for the king's chest and shoulders and stature; what a pity for the face that graces every gathering. No one has seen his equal in height and strength; with a single arrow he pins two wild asses together. He is being ruined by the bedding of women; soon he will grow limp as fine silk. It dims the eyes and turns the cheeks pale; it weakens the body and turns the lips blue. From the company of women the hair turns white, and whiteness makes a man lose hope in the world. It bends a young man's straight frame into a stoop; how many kinds of ruin come from women's ways. Once a month is enough for coupling; more than that is like spilling one's own blood. That single time, for the sake of a child, is all a wise young man should need. The more you indulge, the more you waste away; excess drains a man's body dry of blood. Talking, they left for the king's palace. One said: The sun has lost its way. Into the dark night rode Bahram Gur, with a single servant to tend the horses. When the sound of a harp reached his ears, the king went toward the jeweler's house. He drove his mount toward the sound of the harp, straight to the merchant's house without delay. He knocked at the door and asked to be let in, calling on the master of the sun for aid. A kindly servant asked: Who is it? Why knock on the door in the dark of night? He answered: At dawn the king came out toward the plain, to the hunting grounds. My horse went lame beneath me, so I turned back helpless, on foot. Such a horse, with a golden bridle, out on the road, someone might steal it, and I would be left to find a way out. The girl went and told the master: A man out there wants shelter from us. He says a horse with a golden bridle might be stolen from here, and his errand would come to nothing. He answered: Open the door. And he said to Bahram: Come in, my son. When the king stepped inside and saw the place, he found servants standing ready everywhere. He said: O just and only God, in your goodness guide your servant well. May I follow no way but justice; may greed and arrogance never be my creed. May all my work and deeds be just, and may the hearts of my subjects rejoice in me. If my knowledge and my justice grow, then after death my memory will shine. May all my subjects, like this jewel merchant, live on with the music of the harp and wine. When he reached the top of the hall, he saw his host's daughter at the door. When the master saw him, he rose to his feet, came forward and bowed low, then straightened up. He said: May your night be blessed, and may all your enemies be your slaves. He spread a cushion and set a seat of honor; his host grew glad at the sight of him. Quickly he brought a fine table, laid with foods, whatever kind there was. A servant devoted to his master came and, at the order, tied up the horse. They called for a table for the attendant too, and set another place apart for him. For the host himself they set a lower seat, and he sat down close to the king. Then the host, seeking pardon, arranged things and said to Bahram: O warrior lord, You are a guest in this house of mine; may my body and soul be a sacrifice for you. Bahram said to him: On such a dark night, who could find so warm and welcoming a host? When the bread is eaten, one must take up the cup, and then find sweet rest in sleep. One must never be ungrateful to God; the hearts of the ungrateful are full of dread. A maidservant brought a ewer and basin, and stood dazzled at the sight of the guest. When his hands were washed he called for wine and cup; in wine he sought joy, honor, and peace. The maid brought a cup of wine: red wine, a goblet, roses and lilies. The master reached first for the cup, drank, then rinsed it with musk and rosewater. That lovely girl gave the cup to Bahram and said: What is the drinker's name? Right now I will make this pact with you and hold you as a pledge to King Bahram. The king laughed heartily at her and said: My name is Goshasp the Horseman. I came here drawn by the sound of the harp, not to linger and stay. The host said to him: This daughter of mine lifts my head up to the sky. She pours the wine and plays the harp; she composes verse and could rout an army. Her name was Arezu, the wine pourer, and she was heart's ease itself. He said to the tall, graceful girl: take up your harp, and come before this warrior with all your charm and beauty. The harp player came before the king, gliding gracefully like a Brahman's idol. She said to Bahram: you chosen horseman, in every way you resemble a royal prince. Know that this house is set for your feast; my father is your host and keeper of your treasure. May the dark night bring you good fortune; may your head rise higher than the raining clouds. He told her: sit down and take up your harp; I want a song from you at once. May Mahyar grow young again tonight, and set his soul as a pledge before his guest. The woman took the harp against her breast and began, first, with a song of the Magi. Her next song was for her own father, Mahyar; you would have said the harp wept in sorrow. When the silk strings began to speak, her whole house was filled with the scent of jasmine. She sang to her father: O Mahyar, like a slender cypress on the riverbank, your head white as camphor, your fragrance like musk, your tongue warm and kind, your heart seeking gentleness, may your enemy always be wounded, and your soul be nourished by wisdom. You are noble in nature, like Fereydun, and I am like your servant, named Arezu. I have grown as joyful from this guest as a king who sees his army winning in battle. When this was sung, she turned toward the guest, moving to him with song and the weeping harp. She sang to the guest: you who are like a king, of high fortune, single-hearted, and avenging, anyone who has not seen Bahram, that famous rider of gentle heart, need only look upon your face; in all the army you resemble no one but him. Your waist is slim as a reed, your height like a cypress, a cypress gliding like a strutting pheasant. A fierce lion in heart, a mighty elephant in body, in combat you can hurl a spear the length of two miles. Your cheeks are truly like the pomegranate blossom; you would say they were washed with wine. Your two arms are like the thighs of a camel; underfoot you could crush Mount Bisotun. You are one whose like no eye has ever seen, nor ever will see, on the day of battle. May Arezu's body be the dust beneath your feet; may she live all her years only for your sake. The king, from her song and her harp, from her face, her stature, and her melody, grew so smitten by her that you would say his heart had become a treasury of longing. When Mahyar grew drunk before him, the royal guest spoke to his host like this: give me your daughter by faith and custom, if you wish to win the Creator's blessing. Mahyar said this to Arezu: what gift do you want from this lionhearted man? Take a good look at him, and if he pleases you he will bring you comfort and profit. Arezou spoke to Mahyar: My dear, noble and good-natured father. If you mean to give me to anyone, the only man worthy of me is Goshasp the rider. You would say he resembles Bahram himself; sitting with him for a moment is like the very soul. Not content with the girl's words alone, he said to Bahram: You warrior on horseback, look closely, from head to foot, at her wisdom, her diligence, and her judgment. Look her over, and if she pleases you, knowing her is better than any hasty match. For all this beauty she is not poor; and in what I say I neither exaggerate nor withhold. If you count up Mahyar's jewels, they would come to more than a king's treasure-purse. If you truly want her, do not rush; rest easy tonight. The great do not seal a bond while drunk, especially one who holds honor dear. Wait until the sky brings up the sun and the heads of the noble ones rise from sleep. We will bring the wise elders, patient of heart and skilled in reciting the contract. A dark night is outside all custom; it was never the way of King Fereydun. It is not auspicious to take a wife while drunk, nor to set any new affair in motion then. Bahram said to him: This is pointless, casting an ill omen over sound judgment and a clear path. Tonight this harp-player pleases me; so do not, if you can help it, cast this ill omen. Then Arezou spoke with his daughter: Have you approved of him, his words and his manner? She said: Yes, I approve of him; with heart and soul he is like the light of my eyes. Do the deed, then entrust it to God; heaven is not at war with Mahyar. He said to her: Now you are his wife; know that you belong to him in private. He gave her over, and Bahram Gur asked for her; when night turned to day, his affair was set right. Arezou went off to her own chamber; the whole house lay asleep on all four sides. Mahyar went to another place and set about arranging things for Goshasp the rider. He told a servant: Shut the doors, and send someone running to fetch a lamb. The table must not be brought without a lamb; and let the lamb be a fine, well-fed one. When he wakes, bring cool drink and ice; stay ready before Goshasp the rider. Bring a cup of camphor and rosewater; make his sleeping place fragrant. As for me, I am still as I was last night from the wine; this old jeweler can drink no more. He said this, drew the cover over his head, and gave himself to ease and sleep. When the shining sun raised its crown, the earth became like a sea of ivory. A servant of the king hung the royal whip from Mahyar's house. The army searched for the sign of that whip belonging to the leader of the proud warriors. The troops gathered at the gate, just as they would at the king's own door. Everyone who recognized the whip came forward and bowed low before it. When the doorkeeper saw that great host, so many belted men and spear-bearers, he came like a whirlwind to the sleeping man and woke the old man from his slumber. He said: Get up and open your hands; this is no time for sleep, no place to sit idle. For the king of the world is your guest, in this humble house and home of yours. At the doorkeeper's words, the heart of the jeweler surged with feeling. He said to him: What are you saying? Why do you search for the trace of kings here? As soon as he heard the speaker, still drunk, he leapt up from his place with a cry. He grew angry at the doorkeeper and said: A wise old man would not say such things. The servant said: You who have seen the world, who set the king of Iran upon your ground? A servant came at daybreak, when the world-lighting sun was not yet visible, carrying a whip wrought with gold, with jewels woven into it everywhere. He hung it before our gate, on the side where our passage lies. When the alert old man heard the whole story from the doorkeeper, he was shaken. He thought: Why was I drunk last night before the king of kings, and my daughter serving the wine? He went to his beloved daughter's chamber and said to her: You moon of noble ways, it was King Bahram himself who came last night to the jeweler's home. He was returning from the hunting fields of the plain, having turned his reins from the old fortress onto the road. Now rise and put on Chinese silk; set on your head the crown you wore last night. Scatter before him gifts of royal jewels: three red rubies fit for a king. When you see the sun-faced king's face, bow before him with your hands folded together. Do not stare at him; keep your eyes lowered; hold him as dear as your own soul and body. When he questions you, speak gently to him; answer with modest, respectful words. I will not come now, even if he calls me; I sat him among the servants. I sat at the table as if he were my equal, though my bones still hold some sense within me, for I too grew too familiar with the king; from young and old alike, wine brings sin. Just then a servant came running: the bright-souled king has woken. When he awoke, safe and well, he came into the garden and washed his face and body. He turned toward the sun in prayer, his heart filling with hope in God. Then he came and sat in his place and asked a wine-server for a cup of wine. When the king learned about his companions, he ordered them to be sent on their way. He commanded that Arezu be brought before him; he longed for that beloved with a deep longing. Arezu came with wine and gifts, an attendant with crown and earrings. She bent double and kissed the ground; the king laughed at this and grew happy. The king said to her: where were you keeping this? You made me drunk and then left me. That song and harp of ours are enough for us; the women's scattered gifts are for someone else. Bring me what you spoke of, of the hunting ground, of battle, of the spear's point and the king's blows. Then he said to the jeweler: where did that go, the wine on which we got drunk last night? When the daughter heard this, she called her father; the king's heart stayed lost in wonder at her. The father came, hands folded across his chest, before the sun-faced king of kings. He said to him: O king, generous and wise, great and mighty, brave, a very sage. Whoever has wisdom and good sense should choose nothing but silence. Our guilt came from ignorance; I fear you must think me a madman. It would be fitting if you forgave my fault and made my days and months shine bright. I am a foolish servant at your door; do not count me, my king, among the wise. The king replied: a wise man takes nothing to heart from a drunken man. Anyone whom wine brings only sorrow should never taste its color or its scent. In your drunkenness I saw no bad temper from you; you hear these words from Arezu. Offer your apology so the harpist may play, and let the tulip speak amid the jasmine. Let her sing something for us to drink to; let us not reckon on days that have not yet come. Then Mahyar kissed the ground, brought the table, and set everything in order. The nobles who stood waiting at the door were brought in by the pure-hearted man. Arezu went off to her own chamber, her brow furrowed at the stranger-guest. She waited until the sky wore black and the stars appeared around the moon's dust. When the meal was done, he called Arezu and seated her lovely form on a golden chair. He commanded, and the moon-faced girl took up the harp for the song the king had earlier asked for. He said: brave king, at the mere sound of your name even the lion abandons its thicket. You are the victorious king who breaks armies, your face as bright as a tulip in a meadow. No king on earth stands as tall as you; no moon in the sky shines like your face. Any army that sees your army, that faces you on the field of battle, their hearts and minds burst with terror; they can no longer tell the heights from the valleys. As soon as they grew merry with wine, they passed the cup around, small and quick. Ruzbeh came before the king and chose a fine place for him in the village. Bahram ordered forty attendants, all with faces like the moon and hearts that steal your own. The faces of the Byzantines were like Byzantine silk; through them the whole land was made fresh. The desire rose to reach the king's chamber, a crown of jewels set upon his head. The king of kings came with Ruzbeh, glad and open-hearted, from the moon-like palace. Singing, he rode toward his own chamber, toward his jasmine-scented, idol-fair beloved.

He slept that night, and at early dawn he set out toward the hunting plain. The army crossed every road and off road path; it turned out he stayed a whole month on the plain. They pitched the royal pavilion and the tents, and cleared the plain of its game. No one on that plain gave a thought to sleep: wine, and the meat of the hunt, and harp and lute. They kindled fires across the wilderness and burned great heaps of wood, both green and dry. Many people came out from the city, anyone who had need to earn some coin. For a while there was buying and selling; the wilderness blazed bright with the army's fires. From the game of the plain and the waterbirds, whoever asked could get so much roasted meat that he carried it home by the load, for his small children and his guests. When a month had passed, his hurry came to him, and his thoughts turned again to sleep with beauties. He led the army back from the hunting ground; for the dust of the riders they could not see the road. The army moved along like a cloud of dust, until the face of day turned lapis blue. A town came into view along his path, full of lanes and alleys and a marketplace. He ordered his army with its baggage to pass on ahead, and he himself stayed behind alone. He asked where the village headman lived, then lowered his head and rode straight on. He saw a broken door, wide and tall; the owner came out and bowed low to him. He asked, whose is this ruined house? Why is this wreck standing in the middle of the village? The owner said, this dwelling is mine; this same bad luck is my only guide. No ox here, no clothing, no donkey; no learning, no manliness, no foot, no wing. You have seen me, now look at my house: for such a home a curse is better than praise. He got down from his horse and looked at that dwelling; the king's own hands and feet went weak. The whole house was dung from the sheep; a single arch still stood, and one high spot. He said to him, bring something for me to sit on, you who love your guests. The man answered: why do you mock your host so pointlessly, my lord? If I had anything at all to spread out, you might have praised me as a proper host. There is nothing to spread, nothing to eat, nothing to wear, nothing to lay down. You had best look for a house somewhere else, for here every comfort is lacking. He told him, find me at least a cushion, so I can sit on it a little while. The man said, this is no fit place; it seems you are craving bird's milk here. Then he said to him: bring warm milk, and, if you can find it, one loaf of soft bread. He answered: I imagine you ate your fill and were made happy by it. If there were bread in me, there would be life; though even my life is worth more than bread. He said to him: if you have no sheep, then who came to your house and left dung behind? He answered: the night has grown dark, and your talk has left my head spinning. Pick a house where you will find a rug, one whose owner has thanks and comfort to give. Why stay beside a wretched man who makes his bed at night from the leaves of trees? You carry a gold-hilted sword, gold on your stirrups; take care no thief comes to terrify you. Fear God and keep away from me; in every task be as worn out and troubled as I am. Since the house is ruined like this, it is a passage for thieves and lions. He said to him: if a thief had carried off my sword, you would not be standing here beneath me now. The farmer said to him: do not be vexed by this, for no one finds even a night's lodging in my house. The king said to him: wise old man, why do you keep arguing pointlessly before me? As I suppose, at least offer some cold water; show a little kindness, you free and generous man. The farmer said to him: that pool lies ahead, less than an arrow's throw away. Drink as much as you want and carry some off; what could you seek in this destitute house? You surely see a poor man, left helpless in his labor by old age. He answered: if you are no lord, do not pick a fight with an army. He asked his name; the man said: Farshidvard. No home, no clothing, no sleep, and no food. Bahram said to him amiably: why don't you seek bread with a name like yours? The farmer said to him: perhaps by the will of the Creator these days of mine will come to an end. I pray before my God that I might one day see my ruin free of you. Why did you come into an empty house, where you will never find moonlight or plenty? He said this and wept so bitterly that the king fled from the sound of his voice. He laughed at the old man and took to the road; the army came streaming after him. When he left that famous town, a thorny thicket came into view before him. A man with an axe was digging up thorns; the king came forward from his troops to him. He said: chief of this town, tell me, whom do you know here, enemy of the thorn field? He answered: Farshidvard has lived all year long without sleep or food. Yet he must own a hundred thousand sheep, and horses and mules in that same count. The ground is packed full of his hoarded gold coins, may his brain shrink smaller than his own skin. His stomach empty, his body bare; no children, no relatives, no belongings, no home. If he sold his crops for gold, he could fill a whole house with jewels. His shepherds boil meat in milk, while he himself eats millet bread with cheese. He has never owned two garments at once; even his own body suffers his stinginess. The king said to the thorn gatherer: if you do not know the count of his sheep, you surely know where he keeps them; how could he dare to tell you their number? The man replied: valiant, battle tested rider, no one knows the count of that wealth. He gave the thorn gatherer a few gold coins and said: now you have become a man of worth. He ordered that from among the army a wise man should come forward on the road. The name of that man was Bahram; a bold rider with a calm, comforting heart. He sent along with this renowned man thirty riders, chosen and capable men of action. He picked a careful, pious scribe, one who knew well how to keep accounts. He told the thorn gatherer: go from here; once you gathered thorns, now you reap gold. A tenth of that wealth is yours; guide these men straight to the place. The thorn gatherer's name was Delafruz, a swaggering man of great bodily strength. The king gave him a precious horse and said: you must race side by side with the wind. Delafruz became a light of the world; when he reached the court, he triumphed. He led the army over mountain and plain; the sheep were beyond all counting. On the mountain there were ten caravans of camels, and each caravan had its own camel driver. There were oxen for plowing and cows for milk, with wool and butter, crops and cheese. The whole plain, mountain, and desert was his pasture, yet no one in the world knew his name. The desert was entirely churned by hooves, and cow's butter was stored in great jars. From Shiraz and the surrounding land there were three hundred thousand camel loads by the riverbank. Bahram the radiant wrote a letter to the King of Kings, Bahram Gur. First he praised the Creator, who is the victorious one and the sustainer of all. Then he praised the King of Kings, who had overturned the religion of evil. He wrote: King of the world, from you all people, humble and great, are glad. Your justice passes all measure; but this silence lets the treasury of punishment go untended. In all worldly affairs, moderation is best; a king's heart is best kept fresh with good thoughts. One man, named Farshidvard, has gone missing; not at the feast, nor on the battlefield. No one in the world knew his name, neither among the humble nor among the great. He worshipped neither king nor God, and never knew how to give thanks for anything. He hoarded wealth like this in the world, yet sat hidden away, empty handed and full of grief. The king's justice was starting to look like injustice. Do not count my counsel as a fault. Lay the foundation of a treasury from this wealth; within three years it will be complete and adorned. I called in the learned scribes and settled them here on this flourishing mountain. The full count is not yet clear; the accountant's back has bent and hunched over it. The one who spoke says that in the ground there is even more gold and jewels than this. Here on this mountain I keep both my eyes fixed on the road, waiting to see what command the royal court will give. My greetings go out to the king of Iran; may you live as long as cloth is made of warp and weft. He set a swift camel racing along the road to carry the letter to the king. When Bahram Gur read that letter, a turmoil rose in his heart over the matter. He grew grim and his eyes filled with tears; his warrior's brows twisted into a frown. He ordered the scribe to come before him; he called for a pen and Chinese silk paper. First he offered praise to the Creator, the Lord victorious and everlasting. The Lord of wisdom and glory, the Lord of the crown of kingship. He wrote: if I were truly just, I would not have let this man suffer such hardship. He did not gather this wealth through theft or bloodshed, nor did he lead anyone into wrongdoing. It was only that this man was ungrateful, and held no fear of God in his heart. He was a mere watchman over this wealth, wearing down his heart and soul just to make it grow. On this plain, what difference is there between wolf and sheep, when it is all just strife and brings no profit? Under the earth, what difference is there between a jewel and a stone, if from it comes neither food nor clothing to hand? Let us not build a treasury out of that toil; let us not tie our hearts to this fleeting lodging house of a world. Fereydun is nowhere to be seen in the world now, nor Iraj, Salm, and Tur among the great ones. Nor Jamshid, Kavus, and Kay Qobad, and the other famous names we still remember. My own father, who left my heart full of grief, was not just; he was a cruel man. None of these great ones remains; against this fate there is no quarrel to make with God. You, gather up all that wealth, whatever there is; distribute it, and do not keep a single thing for yourself. Give to the one who keeps his need hidden, the one who through misfortune finds relief only late. And to the old man too, who has been left without work and become worthless in the eyes of the wealthy. Everyone else had something and ate it up; now they are left with pain and cold, empty wind. A man with a good name but no money finds no partner in the marketplace. Then there are the orphaned children you see: their fathers dead, left with neither gold nor silver. And women with no husband and no clothing, who know no trade and have no means to strive. Give all this wealth to them; brighten their diminished souls and lives. As for you who set out toward the treasure like the wind, let justice and piety be your whole way. The gold that Farshidvard hid away, leave it be, so it brings no sorrow. What good to him are gold and jewels, or plain dirt, when he must be laid in the grave? May the turning heavens be your friend; may justice and restraint be your work. They set the king's seal upon the letter; the messenger turned back and took to the road.

He ordered the imperial throne to be brought out into the spring garden. At his command they carried out the turquoise throne and set it beneath a tree that scattered blossoms. They brought wine and cups and musicians, and went into the orchard with the nobles. The king said to his counselor: life is only pleasant when shared with good company. In the end we all lie alone in the tomb, however tall and grand we may stand now. Death sweeps away every trace, and topples palaces and grand halls. Whether king or beggar, whoever dies carries with him only a good name. In this world, being praised is enough for us; the hoarded treasure of coins is for someone else. You must be harmless and honest if you want this life you enjoy to bring you no harm. Now my years have reached thirty-eight, and many days have passed in joy. When a young man's years climb toward forty, the sorrow of death enters his heart. When a single hair on your head turns white, you must let go of your hope for pleasure. When musk gives way to camphor, the musk is flawed; and camphor does not suit a crown. I will feast and play for two more years, until a little weakness enters my neck. Then I will go before God and wear coarse penitent's cloth, and I will not be ungrateful for His word. I have spent many days in joy, and taken my share from every passing breeze. Now, among roses, pomegranates, apples, and quince, I do not keep my golden wine-cup empty. When I see the apple's cheek turn ruby-red, and the sky grows dark like a leopard's back, the spring is fruitful and fragrant, and red wine is like a comforter for grief. The air turns just right, neither hot nor cold; the earth is green and the waters deep blue. When autumn comes and we put on fur, we should go hunting toward Jazz. On that plain let us make such a hunt that we leave a memory in the world. By now the wild ass has grown thick-necked, bold as a lion and marked like a leopard. There is no need to bring dogs and cheetahs, hawks, falcons, and hunting birds on such a long journey. For that is a place for mace, arrow, and bow; we will not be without a charge for a moment. The desert I have seen below Jazz has become like a spear-shaft, its heights like tamarisk stalks. There too we will find lions; there will be game if we stay a while. He waited until the clouds of Shahrivar came, and the world filled with soldiers. From every corner a warlike army turned its face toward the king of Iran. From among them he chose the bold ones, those who had a knack for the hunt. He brought his army to the hunting plain: ten thousand sword-wielding horsemen. They carried tents and pavilions, and the shelters, stables, and pack animals. All the servants went ahead of the army and dug pits here and there. So they might set up pulleys over the pits and raise Chinese awnings above them. Then the king rode through his troops, with his chosen men, toward the hunting ground. He saw the whole desert full of wild asses, and the whole thicket teeming with lions. He said: this is my hunt, where so many bodies lie in the dust from the lions. Sleep with a glad heart and a healthy body, for tomorrow I must go after the lion. Now let us drink wine until dawn breaks, until the world-lighting sun shines bright. First we will bring down the lion with the sword, and cut down the brave dragon-beast as well. Once this thicket is emptied of lions, the wild ass will become the servant of my arrow. That night passed, and at early dawn the king and his army went toward the thicket. At once a lion came striding out, grown fierce and full from feeding on the wild ass. Bahram the hero said to his companions: I have a bow and arrows and a strong hand, but I will go at the lion with the sword, so that none may call me a coward. He put on a damp woolen coat and set his foot in the war-horse's stirrup. When the lion saw the hero, it rose upright and raised both its forepaws straight up. As it moved to strike the horse's head, the hunter drove in his heel. He struck a sharp sword-blow on the lion's head; quickly its mate sought a way to flee. He cut it in two from head to waist, and filled the hearts of fierce lions with fear. Then another lion came roaring and bold; its mate was nursing cubs below. He struck a sharp dagger at its neck, and the male lion's head was torn from its body. One man said: O king with the face of the sun, you have no mercy on your own life. The whole thicket is full of lions with their cubs, all of them nursing at their mothers' breasts. Now the bold beast must be wary, for in autumn it keeps its cubs beneath it. This thicket stretches three leagues; even if you hunt lions by hand for a whole year, the world will still not be emptied of lions, so why do you lay such hardship on yourself? When the king first sat on the throne, he pledged to hunt nothing but the claws of lions. Now the kingdom of Iran is yours; you came for wild ass, so why this fighting with lions? The king said to him: O wise old man, tomorrow at dawn it will be me, the wild ass, and the arrow. These proud horsemen never won fame with the bow and arrow. If we mean to prove our manhood, let us do it with the mace and the sword. The priest said to him: no horseman has seen a rider like you in battle. May the evil eye be far from your glory; may your seat be in gardens and celebration. The king came from the thicket to his pavilion, with the priest and the commander of the army. The army called blessings upon him: may crown and signet ring never be without you. When the army returned, he went to his tent, and the world was full of talk of his justice. A wise and capable governor scattered thorns around the new pavilion. They set out camphor, musk, and rosewater, and spread musk over the sleeping place. In every tent he placed golden tables, and on them set bowls adorned in Chinese fashion. The steward set out the feast with roast lamb and every kind of food, all of it. When the meal was done, King Bahram Gur called for a great crystal cup, for a fairy-faced cupbearer to bring, and place in the palm of the just king. He said: it was King Ardashir whose good fortune made the old man young again. He was the source; we are his lesser heirs, if indeed we are worthy of being called his heirs. In war, in feasting, in counsel, and at the table, call no one but him lord of the world. When Alexander came from Rome to Iran, this land was laid to ruin. How ungenerous and harsh he was, when he killed thirty-six of the royal line. The lips of kings are full of curses against him, and the whole face of the earth is full of hatred for him. Where they bless Fereydun, upon him falls the curse of every seeker of revenge. May nothing but goodness go out from me into the world, among the humble and the great alike. He said: bring me a herald, sweet-voiced and a chief among the notables, who will go all around the army and cry aloud, on and off the roads, and proclaim that, in the streets of the city of Jazz, whether it be jewels, gold, silk, or fur, down even to worthless bits of straw, if anyone lays a wrongful hand on it, I will set him backward on his horse, dragging him from here with two guards. They will bind his two feet beneath the horse, and I will send him to the fire-temple of Azargoshasp. There he will pray to the fire upon the ground and worship before the pure God. I will give his goods to the one from whom he took them and who suffered the loss. And if a rider lets his horse into a sown field, or heads for someone's orchard, he will not be freed from prison for a year, be he a proud horseman or a lowly one. It is enough that the province has borne the burden of us; let us not come and leave the towns aggrieved. The merchants of the city set out, people from Jazz and Barquh, two great crowds. The desert grew like a Chinese bazaar with their wares, on the side where the king's army was camped.

Next day, when the sun raised its crown of light, the world's ruler set out to hunt wild ass. The troops had strung their bows, and the king rode along behind his army. He said: whoever takes his bow in hand should draw it back the proper distance with his thumb ring. The arrow must strike nowhere but the head, so its point comes out through the chest. One champion said: My king, look at this famous army of yours. Who among them, friend or foe, well-wisher or not, could shoot bow and arrow like that? Perhaps only your hand can loose such a shot, may your head and crown last forever. When you take up arrow, sword, and mace, you have the royal glory and towering stature to match. The whole army stands in awe of the king; before your arrow and bow their hands go slack. He answered: This is a gift from God; take that away, and what is Bahram's strength worth? He spurred Shabdiz forward and made the swift horse eager for the chase. When the moment came he loosed his thumb, and pinned the wild ass by its head. At once the ass fell headlong, and the golden-belted warriors rode up. They marveled at that wounding shot, and one by one they praised him. For no one had seen the arrow's feathers or its head: they vanished right into the beast. The warriors of battle, the men of vengeance, all of them called down blessings on him. The champion said to him: My king, may your eyes never see an evil day. You are a horseman, while we all ride donkeys; even among donkey riders we lack such skill. The king said: This is not my arrow; it is the victorious God who guides my hand. Whoever has no support or helper from the world's ruler, none in the world is more wretched or helpless than he. He urged that mount into motion; you would say the horse had become a soaring huma bird. A female wild ass came before him; her foal had run ahead and she stayed behind. The rider struck her across the middle with his blade, and the fragile creature split in two. The great men rode up close to him, the proud nobles and the sword-wielding lesser men. When they saw that blow upon the female ass, the wise one said: Behold such a sword and strength. May no evil eye see this king; none rivals him but the moon in the sky. The heads of the world's great men bow beneath him; the heavens themselves lie beneath his arrow and sword. The army galloped after, and they cleared the plain of wild asses. A man rode all around the troops, so that no one would be left across the wide plain. The wild asses would be sold to merchants, but here they were given away to them for free. From the high street the chosen nobles carried off much brocade and fine fur. He accepted their gifts and ordered that no tribute or tax be demanded, however much they could afford. Whoever in those cities was poor, or earned his bread by his own hard labor, grew rich from his generosity; many even came to hold thrones and crowns. He returned from the hunting ground to the city, and for a week rejoiced with his army. A sweet-voiced herald would go out, a wise man seeking the poor and needy. He would proclaim: You who seek justice, take refuge in God against oppressors. Anyone who has gone to sleep sharing in our hardship, or who has no share of our treasure, come to the royal square, so the king may perhaps renew your fortune. Also anyone old, idle, or feeble, and any young man who is not in good health, and if anyone in this group is in debt, worn out by the cruelty of creditors, and if there are fatherless children too, they may claim what they need from whoever holds it. Let a child's mother who hides her need in silence come, and I will open the treasury doors to her. And if a wealthy man of means has died in this land, leaving small children behind, and some guilty person eyes that inheritance, having in his heart no shame or fear of God, let no one keep such matters hidden from me, for I have no need of go-betweens keeping secrets. I will make the poor man rich, and bring the soul of the wrong-believer to the faith. I will pay the debt of anyone who has no money and carries grief in his heart. And anyone who hides his need, keeping it secret out of his poverty, I will free him from that trouble, increase his joy and lessen his sorrow. And if some official has caused hurt, having taken something from an orphan, I will hang that unjust man alive, for he has wronged a free-born man. After that they opened the treasury doors, and whoever was in need grew rich. From the hunting ground he went toward Baghdad, wise and with a joyful heart. The proud chiefs came before him, both strangers and his own kin. He ordered the army to return, and came to the king's beautiful palace. They adorned the golden chamber; the servants called for music and wine. Lovely women tuned poem and harp, and cleared the hall of all strangers. With harp and wine, the sound of lute and song, you would say they were sending greetings to the very air. Each night, from each chamber they brought a bracelet, so his heart would not grow sad. For two weeks his heart was glad; he kept the treasury open day and night. He gave out coins, then came to the city of Istakhr, and set that royal crown of glory on his head. When he opened the doors of his own harem, he loaded the women with coin from the treasury. In the golden chamber, every woman who had no crown or ivory throne of her own, grumbled greatly about the king of Iran; he grew angry, and Rouzbeh bit his lip. He said to him: I will give them the tribute of Rome and the Khazars when it comes in full. Right now, demand gold by the load, and levy tribute from the treasuries of Rey and Isfahan. The harem was left this depleted, though not through the ill star of Iran's king. They demanded fresh tribute from every land, and adorned the earth with brocade. In this way, for a while, he enjoyed the world, in feasting and in war, in honor and in battle.

The next week he went hunting alone; grim of mood, he set off with his quiver and arrows. When the blazing sun made the plain hot, the commander turned back slowly from the hunt. He reached the house of a merchant; he looked around but saw no one. He said to the merchant, 'Can you give us shelter? You'll find us no trouble.' When the merchant took him in, he chose a place for him to rest. He lay there groaning with a stomach ache and handed the merchant a few coins. He told him, 'Bring a little aged wine, and roast some almonds along with it.' 'A home-raised chicken would do; my heart is set on these small comforts.' The merchant brought none of what he asked; he had no almonds tucked away either. When it grew dark the host crept in quietly, bringing a single roasted chicken, still hot. He set the table and carried it to Bahram; brave Bahram said to the merchant, 'I asked you for aged wine, I made my request politely with my tongue.' 'You brought none, though I had given you coins, since I was groaning with a stomach ache.' He answered, 'You witless man, you have no sense to nourish your soul.' 'When I've brought you this hot roasted chicken, asking for more is neither custom nor decency.' When Bahram heard these words from him, his craving for aged wine was gone. He regretted his request, ate his bread, and said no more of what had passed. When the time for sleep came he slept, and said nothing further to the merchant. When the sun rose from the churning sea, that pitch-black veil of night vanished. The wealthy merchant kept saying to his assistant, 'You bungling man,' 'That chicken wasn't worth a single coin; you bought it dear and did me wrong.' 'Had you bought it cheap for this rider, I'd have had no quarrel in the dark of night.' 'Had you bought him a coin's worth of cheese, he'd be like water and milk with me today.' The assistant said, 'If this is not my affair, then know the chicken is on my account.' 'You be my guest along with this rider; don't fight with me over one chicken.' When Bahram rose from his pleasant sleep, he went to his obedient steed, to saddle it and ride to the palace, where his crown would rise from the hall to the stars. When the assistant saw him, he said to Bahram, 'Be my companion today, for better or worse.' The king went and sat upon his seat, marveling at the young man's good fortune. The youth went and brought two hundred eggs; he told the master, 'Honored one, don't leave.' 'A roasted chicken with warm bread, aged wine, and soft almonds.' He went to Bahram and said, 'Rider, yesterday you were asking for eggs.' 'Now I'll bring your wishes hot, along with several kinds of tender dishes.' He said this and then went off to the market, buying a different sort of provisions. He sought sugar, almonds, chicken and lamb, to set the whole table beautifully. He brought wine and saffron, musk and rosewater, and hurried home with an eager heart. He brought the table with fine dishes; the youth was noble-minded and pure of spirit. When the meal was done he carried in a full cup, handing the first to Bahram the king. In this way they grew glad and merry, passing round the cup from small to large. The king said to the host, 'Bahram invites us.' 'Drink your wine and grow tipsy; don't stir until you become worshippers of wine.' Then he rubbed down his horse, saddled it, and set off, cheered by wine, toward the rose garden. He said to the merchant, 'Stop haggling so much, you cheap seller, over this man's generosity.' 'Last night you sold me for a single coin, and you kept the assistant's eyes shut,' 'because he bought a chicken above its price and set me down in the dragon's jaws.' He said this to the merchant and left, hurrying swiftly toward the royal court. When the sun showed its crown upon its throne, the world's guardian sat upon his ivory throne. The king ordered the chief of audience to summon the merchant, and to bring the assistant along with him; one of them glad, the other downcast. When assistant and master came at once, like smoke, before the king of Iran, the moment he saw the assistant he honored him, seating him gladly among the nobles. They brought a purse of gold to him, and his darkened soul turned bright as the moon. He told the merchant, 'As long as you live, know that you are the assistant's servant.' 'And twice each month count out for him sixty coins from your treasury.' 'Let the assistant host guests at your expense; this gladdens the heart of a generous man.' After that the king said to the wise priest, 'When a king does not watch over the world's affairs,' 'how can he know which people are the best? How can he tell the lowly from the great?'

For a while he stayed among the nobles, with bright wine, cups, and musicians. Spring came and the world turned into paradise; the sky planted tulips on the dark earth. Every land grew full of game, and the streams ran like wine and milk. Wild ass and gazelle strutted across the meadows, tracing their paths everywhere on the green. The streambanks were fragrant with musk, and the elm bloomed like wine at the peak of ripening. They said to King Bahram Gur: the season for hunting wild ass is far along. He answered: a thousand chosen horsemen must be picked out from the army. The king rode off to the hunting ground, and the whole world was filled with talk of it. Those bold and mighty men swept the land clean of wild ass, mountain sheep, and gazelle. On the third day, when the sun kindled its crown, the earth turned yellow, mountain and sea like ivory. The brave king went to hunt and saw a dragon huge as a full-grown lion. It had hair along its length, a pillow beneath its head, and two breasts like a woman's upon its chest. He strung his bow and, without pause, struck the dragon's flank with an arrow of white poplar. He shot another straight through the middle of its head, and blood poured from it like water. He dismounted, drew a dagger, and slit the dragon open from end to end. Inside it, it had swallowed a young man, frozen stiff in blood and venom. He wept bitterly over that youth, and from the venom Bahram's eyes grew dim. From there he came back to his royal tent, and had wine brought and lovely lute players sing. When thirty days of spring had passed, the orchards grew like paradise with fruit. He arranged to go out into the wilds, with a single servant to guide him. At dawn on the first day of the month of Khordad, the king set out from that plain toward a village. To see whether justice existed in the world, and to seek out the heart of the God-fearing man. He rode Shabdiz gently, slowly, on like this until the day turned hot. He rode along the road, bewildered and weary, the king longing for sleep and water. So he went until he reached a settled place, and came upon a house out on the open plain. He saw a woman with a pitcher on her shoulder; she hid her face from King Bahram. Bahram said to her: give me shelter here, or I must move on in hardship. The woman said: brave rider, treat this house as your own home. When he heard her answer, he rode his horse inside; the hostess called her husband over. She told him: bring straw and rub down his horse, and when it is time for barley, fill the feed bag. She herself went into the corner where she slept, went ahead inside and swept the house clean. She spread out a reed mat and set down a cushion, and offered words of blessing over Bahram. She went to the water room and fetched water, all the while quietly reproaching her husband. 'This old fool just stays put wherever he is, the moment he sees anyone come to the house. This is no work for a woman to do; I am the one running the household, working my teeth to the bone.' King Bahram went and washed his face, for that dragon fight had left his body worn out. He came and sat down upon the reed mat, while the old man stood at the door of the house. She brought a spread and set it out properly: on it were herbs, vinegar, bread, and yogurt. He ate a little bread and, groaning, lay down, hiding his face beneath a Chinese cloth. When he woke from sleep, the woman said to her husband, 'You ugly, unwashed face, you should slaughter a lamb, for this rider is a great man, of royal stock. He has the glory of kings and the light of the moon; he looks like no one but King Bahram himself.' The worthy husband said to the woman, 'Why must you go on talking so much? You have no salted meat, no firewood, no bread; how will you provide for such a guest? You slaughter the lamb, he eats and this rider leaves, and you send off the donkey into the crowd, gone for good. Winter, cold, and a howling wind will surely come upon you before long.' The husband kept speaking, but the woman would not listen, though she was both quick-footed and full of schemes. In the end the lamb was slaughtered, by the woman's word, for the sake of the rider. When it was killed, she cooked a pot of harisa, kindling fire from half-dry wood. She brought something before the king: on it were eggs and cress from the stream, and she carried a roasted piece of the lamb, and everything else that had been cooked, all of it. When Bahram had washed his hands after the meal, he lay there sleepless, his body still unwell. When night gathered with the sun and dusk came on, the woman brought a gourd of wine and some jujubes. The king said to her, 'You woman of few words, tell me some old story. So that while we drink to your telling, we may drown pain and sorrow in the wine. I leave the choice of story to you: if you have any complaint against Bahram, feel free to speak it.' The woman of few words said, 'Yes, it is good; the beginning and end of every matter come from him.' Bahram said to her, 'Is this all? No one sees any justice sought from him?' The proud woman said, 'You of pure judgment, in this village there are many people and houses. Riders are always passing through here, men from the court and the officials.' One person brands another as a thief, and from that slander the accused suffers greatly. For the sake of a few coins he becomes a vengeful enemy, turning another's happy day to bitterness. He drags a chaste woman's name into filth and reduces her to ruin for nothing. That is a loss no treasure can repay; and this is the wrong that comes when a world ruling king lets it happen. The king grew troubled at these words, for his own good name had been stained by such conduct. Then the God fearing king said to himself: no one is grateful to a just ruler. I will be harsh for a few months over this, so that justice and kindness stand out against harm. That dark night he slept twisted with worry, and all night his heart lay coupled with the thought of tyranny. When night tore off its musk scented veil and showed its face upon the sky, the woman came from the house and told her husband: bring out the cooking pot and the fire from where they are kept. Soak every kind of seed in water; the sun must not fall upon it. Now while I milk this cow, do not take the cooking lightly. She brought the cow from its pasture and set plenty of fodder before it. She rubbed her hand over its udder and said: in the name of the Lord who has no partner or mate. The cow's udder was empty of milk, and the young hostess's heart turned old with grief. She said to her husband: master of the house, the heart of the world's king has changed. The ruler of the world has become a tyrant; last night his heart secretly twisted toward oppression. Her husband said: why do you speak this way? What are you seeking with such ill omens? She answered: my worthy husband, this talk of mine is not idle. When the ruling king turns unjust, the moon no longer shines from the sky as it should. The milk in the udders dries up, and no musk would remain in the deer's pod. Adultery and usury come out into the open, and the soft heart turns to solid stone. On the plain the wolf devours people, and the wise flee from the foolish. The egg spoils beneath the hens, whenever the king becomes a tyrant. This cow's pasture was no poorer than before, nor was its watering place any worse. Yet its milk has dried in the udder like this; its color and its temper have changed. When King Bahram heard these words, regret came over him at once for his thought. He said to God: O Creator, mighty and knower of all time, if my heart ever turns away from justice, may I no longer hold the throne of kingship. The blessed, pure, God worshiping woman ran her hand over the cow once more. She invoked the name of God, as Zoroaster taught: that what is hidden should be brought out of concealment. Milk poured from the udder of her cow, and the hostess said: 'O you who lift up the fallen, you have turned injustice back into justice; otherwise the cow would never have had this yield.' Then she said to her husband: 'Injustice has given way, and justice has returned to its place.' 'Be glad and take your ease from now on, for the Maker of the world has shown us mercy.' When the milk stew was cooked in the pot, husband and wife finished their labor. That pure-minded woman went to her guest, while her husband carried the tray behind her. They set before him a bowl of milk stew; how good it would have been had there also been a meat dish. The king ate a little of that milk stew, then the noble man spoke to the woman: 'Hang this whip up at your doorway, in a spot where people pass by. Look for a high branch by the door; take care the wind does no harm to it. After that, watch who comes along the road, and keep your eye on this whip.' The master of the house hurried off and hung the king's whip from the tree. He kept watch over it for a while, and a countless army appeared on the road. Everyone who saw that whip called out blessings on King Bahram. All of them dismounted before the long whip and, one by one, made their bows. Husband and wife said: 'This can only be the king; such honor belongs only to the throne.' Full of shame, they both set off, running on foot until they reached the king, saying: 'O great and generous, wise king, ruler of the world, chief of all the sages, in this house your hosts were poor: a destitute woman, her husband a gardener.' They apologized for that humble service, and asked our king for his understanding, that one like you had come as a guest to this place, to such a poor house and home. Bahram said to him: 'O fortunate man, I give you this land and this fine village. From now on do nothing but host others; stay with this, and give up the gardener's toil.' He said this and left that house smiling, then mounted his swift-footed steed. The king rode away from that poor village and came to his jewel-adorned palace.

For a while he enjoyed the world this way, in war and feast, in shame and battle alike. Then word reached India and Rome, the Turks, China, and every settled land, that Bahram cared for nothing but play, and counted no one in the world as anyone. No vanguard, no lookout on watch, and not even a commander at the border. They were letting the world slip away in games; he had no idea what was open or hidden. When the Khaqan of China heard all this, he picked an army from China and Khotan. He paid out coin and marched toward Iran; no one gave a thought to Bahram. On the other side, Caesar raised his troops; the whole land of Rome took up arms. When news came to Iran from Rome, from India, China, and every settled land, that Caesar had gathered his army and marched, and forces from China and Khotan had appeared, then everyone in Iran who was a leader, both the elders and the rising nobles, all came before Bahram Gur, full of anger, fight, and turmoil. They spoke some harsh words to the king: 'Your shining fortune has turned its back on you.' 'The chief of the warriors is bent on battle, while your heart is set on play and feasting.' 'In your eyes the treasury and the army count for nothing, nor Iran's crown, throne, and rank.' The world-ruling king answered the priests who were showing him the way: 'The Creator of the world is my helper, who stands above the knowledge of all the great.' 'By the power of that mighty Lord, I will guard Iran from the claws of the wolf.' 'With fortune, army, sword, and treasure I will turn this pain and grief away from the land.' Yet he kept on playing just the same, and the eyes of the proud filled with blood over him. Everyone was saying that under such a king the heart of a decent person twists in pain. But King Bahram's heart was in fact awake, and this news had filled him with worry. He was secretly preparing the army's affairs; no one in the world knew his plan. The whole city of Iran was afraid of his conduct, their hearts split in two by anxious thoughts. They had all lost hope in that king, and held their lives and their leadership as worthless. Then word came to King Bahram that an army from China had entered Iran. The world-ruler summoned Gostaham to him and told him much about the Khaqan of China, he who was commander and counselor, and grieved whenever battle came. Next he called Mehr-Piruz of Zad, and third Mehr-Barzin of Khorrad, then Bahram-Piruz of the Bahramians, Khazravan, and Roham with the men of Anda, one the king of Gilan, one the king of Rey, men shrewd and steady in judgment, and Dad-Barzin, tested in battle, who held Zabolestan firmly in his charge. He brought Qaren, son of Borzmehr, and again Dad-Barzin of the frowning brow. From the Iranians he chose thirty thousand, all wise and fit for war. He gave his brother the throne and crown, to keep watch over the treasury and the troops, the wise and noble Narsi, who possessed glory and faith, justice and love. From there he led his army onward and marched toward Azarbaijan. When he took so many troops out of Fars, this was what the wise and great believed: that King Bahram had fled from the fight and taken his road toward Azar. When Bahram turned his face toward the sea, an envoy from Caesar arrived like the wind. Narsi lodged him in the palace, in a fine and fitting place. The wise counselors and all the priests sat together in council with Narsi. All their talk was about the king, who had thrown all those days to the wind. The army came to the chief priest, wanting to be informed about King Bahram: 'He scatters hardship all over us; why does he not fill the treasury from the army too?' 'Everywhere he keeps scattering gold, and does not even know the worth of his own youth.' 'City and army have fallen apart; everyone is seeking a road to power.' 'Now we have no word of him; whether good or ill, it will fall back on us.' After the talk had grown stale, they all settled on a single decision, that they send from Iran a man of good repute to the Khaqan of China, to say: 'Hold back from this raiding and plunder; there is every reason to stop it,' 'so that the land of Iran may still remain, now that its master has fled his home.' Narsi said: 'This is not the right course; there is no equal to this water in the world.' 'There are arms, treasure, and true men who with the sword can raise dust out of fire.' 'When despair over King Bahram set in, where did he go with his meager army?' 'If you plan evil, evil comes; why should such misfortune fall on kings?' The Iranians heard these words and laid down a crooked answer as their foundation: 'Bahram has taken an army away from here, so we must surrender our hearts to sorrow.' 'When the Khaqan comes to Iran for war, no scent or color will be left on our soil.' 'Neither the army nor Narsi will survive; they will trample us pointlessly underfoot.' 'Let us find some remedy, so our place remains and our feet are not cut from our bodies.' There was a priest whose name was Homay, skilled, learned, and pure in judgment. The Iranians chose him to gird himself tightly for that task. Then they wrote a letter, submissive as slaves, from Iran to that king, beginning: 'We are your servants, our heads bowed to your command and will.' 'Whatever there is in the land of Iran we will send to the Khaqan of China,' 'along with gifts, tribute, and tax, for we have no strength to fight the Turks.' The blessed Homay set out from Iran with the pure-minded nobles. He delivered the nobles' message to the Khaqan, and the heart of the king of the Turks grew glad. And of King Bahram's swift maneuver, how he had fled with his army in haste, he told the noble Khaqan, and the Khaqan's heart and soul bloomed like a flower. The Khaqan of China said to the Turks: 'We have set our saddle upon the sky.' 'Who brought Iran into our grip without a battle, if not we, through judgment, sense, and patience?' He gave the envoy much: Chinese silver coins and gold he handed over. He wrote a reply and said: 'May wisdom be the companion of pure souls.' 'We have agreed to what this envoy of honest men has said.' 'When I come with my army into Merv, I will make the face of the land like a pheasant's plumage.' 'With justice, order, color, and fragrance I will make milk flow in the streams.' 'We will wait until Iran's tribute arrives, along with the gifts and tax of its lions.' 'I will come to Merv and go no farther than the Astar; I want no hardship to come from my army.' The envoy raced back and reached Iran and reported to the Khaqan all he had seen and heard. The Khaqan brought his army into Merv, and the world went dark with the horsemen's dust. Once he was at ease, he turned to feasting; no one gave a thought to Bahram. In Merv the harp and lute rang out; no one had a place to rest or sleep. His whole army had turned their horses loose, no vanguard on the plain, no pack-beasts ready. Hunting, wine, gatherings, and the sound of the harp; night and day they sat carefree of war. He kept his eye out for the Iranians' tribute, his heart full of anger at its late arrival.

On the other side, Bahram stayed alert, guarding his troops against the enemy. Day and night he kept scouts posted, and hid his army from the foe. When word reached King Bahram that the Khaqan was at Merv with a great army, he led his forces out from Azar Goshasp, all without baggage, each man with two horses. In quilted armor, mail, and Roman helmets, they raced along the road like the wind, night and day. The army swept on like a flood from a mountain; it passed through Amol by the gate of Ardabil. From Amol they pushed on to Gorgan, and the great men endured pain and hardship. From Gorgan they came to the city of Nasa, with a skilled and resourceful guide leading the way. They crossed mountains and deserts off the road, traveling by day and night, in time and out of time. By day he kept lookouts, and in the dark nights he set guards. In this way he reached near Merv, faster than a soaring pheasant could fly. A swift messenger came from the scouts: the Khaqan, carefree night and day, was planning a hunt at Kashmihan, for his counselor was an old and wily devil. When Bahram heard this he rejoiced, and all his hardships blew away from his heart. He rested for a day on that ground of battle, until the king and army were more refreshed. He came to Kashmihan at daybreak, just as the world-lighting sun rose over the mountain. Every ear was filled with the wail of horns, every eye with the color of banners. War cries rose from the hunting ground; the ears of king and army rang with the sound. The roar could split the ears of a lion; you would think hail was pouring from the clouds. When the Khaqan woke from his hunting, he was seized by the hand of Khazrvan. The battlefield's dust turned so red with blood that you would think arrows were raining from the moon. They captured three hundred famous warriors of China and bound them to their saddles. When the Khaqan of China was taken prisoner, only then did he wake from his sleep. The commander came from Kashmihan to Merv, and from the hard riding the horses were spent. In Merv not one of the Chinese was left; they were slain, and few of the warriors remained. Whoever among them fled in escape, Bahram raced hotly in pursuit. In this way he rode on for thirty leagues, with Qaren the Persian close behind him. When he turned back and came to the hunting ground, he shared out the captured spoils among his troops. When he raised his head high from his victory over China, he recognized all his success as coming from God, the One who holds power over good and ill, the Keeper of the sun and the moon.

Bahram Gur rested in Merv, once the king and his warhorses had recovered. He tempered the fire of his spirit with patience, yet his heart set its mind on battle at Bukhara. In a single day and night he reached Amu, and the world-seeking king turned to hunting and sport. He set out from Amu at the first watch of night, crossing the river and the sands of Farab. When the sun turned the face of the sky yellow and cast off its dark blue robe, the world grew dusty as a falcon's feather, and the world-seeker pressed on past Mai and Marv. The whole Turkish army fell into confusion; they set fire to the land and the plain. The dust rose so high that a star seemed to reach for the moon's skirt, and a father searched for his own son on the road. Of the Turks, every man who had ridden in the front rank, from the elders to the young dagger-wielders, all came before Bahram in humiliation, on foot, their hearts full of blood, brought low in the dust. They said: O generous king of high fortune, greatest lord over the free-born of the world, if it is true that our Khaqan sinned and broke faith with the ruler of the world, then surely, when he broke his pact with the king of the world, he has fallen captive into your hands. But do not spill the blood of the innocent; it does not befit the renowned to seek needless strife. If you demand tribute from us, that is fair, but why cut off the heads of the innocent? Every man and woman among us is your servant; in this war we have been struck down as your subjects. King Bahram's heart ached for them; with the hand of wisdom he sewed shut the eyes of his anger. He stayed his warriors' hands from spilling blood, and the God-worshipping king fell deep in thought. When the world-ruler's kindness took hold, the troubled hearts of these men grew calm. The lord of lords came before the king and agreed to pay heavy tribute every year. When his purpose in this was fulfilled, he took tribute and provisions from the Turks. When he turned back and came to the city of Farab, his face glowing with color and his lips full of laughter, he rested a week and marched no further, and summoned all the nobles from China before him. He raised a pillar of stone and plaster, decreeing that no one from among the Turks or the Khalaj should cross into Iran except by the king's command, and that the Oxus itself would stand as the border on the way. In his army there was a man named Shamr, wise, of noble blood, sound judgment, and ambition. He made him king over the land of Turan and crowned his throne with the splendor of the moon. He placed the golden crown upon his head, and all the city of Turan rejoiced in him.

When the affairs of Turan were set in order, the king's heart was cleared of all worry. He ordered his scribe to come before him; he called for a pen, musk ink, and Chinese silk. The king dictated a letter to Narsi about the battle with the Turks and the state of the army. At the head of the letter he set hidden praise: from this servant to the Maker of the world. The Lord of victory and might, the Lord of Mars, Saturn, and the Moon, the Lord of the turning lofty sky, the Lord of the quiet, wretched earth. Greatness and smallness rest in His decree; all that will be lies under His command. I have written a letter from the border of China to my brother in the land of Iran, and to the nobles of the Iranians I write this same letter on silk. Whoever did not witness the Khaqan's battle should hear it from these warriors. The army was so vast you would say the sky, from its whirling, had smeared its face with pitch. The whole borderland became like a sea of blood; the head of tyranny's fortune was turned upside down. In the fighting he was taken captive, and the turning wheel of heaven grew weary of him. Now I have brought him bound upon a camel, his liver torn and his eyes full of blood. The necks of all the defiant grew soft; their tongues sweet and their hearts full of hot blood. The one who had been an enemy accepted the tribute; those who had strayed came back to the right road. Now, after this letter, I will come with the army, to the heart's delight of every well-wisher. The foam-flecked, wind-footed camels set off from their place like roaring clouds. When the letter reached Narsi, the king's heart swelled with joy. The chief priest of priests came before him, and with him every warrior eager for battle. A cry of joy rose up from Iran, and each one lent his ear to the news. The hearts of the renowned men, from shame before the king, kept writhing over their guilt. They went to the priest to beg forgiveness, all their hearts trembling with fear of any harm, saying that crooked thoughts and the demon's command had led their hearts away from the world's Lord. With that great host it was madness to imagine that God would open a door in the sky. It is a wonder that such a thing passed through the mind, and even through the reason of a wise, discerning man. When the reply is written, for better or worse, we must set down this apology of ours, so that, though the nobles committed a sin, perhaps the renowned king will forgive it. Narsi accepted, saying: I will do this, and drive the grudge out of the king's heart. Then he quickly wrote a reply to that letter, laying out in it the good and the bad. He wrote that the Iranians, out of pain and hardship, and for the sake of their land, children, and treasure, took refuge with the Khaqan of China, in despair of the renowned king, not out of enmity, nor from pain or malice; no one held anyone dearer than the king. A great man named Borzmehr opened the way with a bright face for that mission. He came before the king of the world and revealed all the secrets from their hiding. The king was pleased by his words; thus the fierce fire became smokeless. The chiefs of Chaghan, Chagal, and Balkh, the priests of Bukhara and Gharchistan, came with tribute and sacred twigs in hand, offering praise before the fire-worshipper, saying: We are entirely the king's servants; we have bowed our necks to pay the tribute. And so each year, with tribute and levy, whoever had the means would come to the court.

When the work of the fire temple was finished, it became the very place for Nowruz and the Sadeh feast. He came toward Azerbaijan, together with the renowned nobles and the freeborn. The keepers of the fire stepped forward, and all the priests laid their hands upon their heads in reverence. He gave gifts to the fire keepers, then set out swiftly from the temple. With a graceful stride he came to the city of Estakhr, which was the pride of the great kings. Loaded on cowhide and sheepskin sacks, he had them carried forward on the backs of elephants. There were eleven hundred and sixty measures of it, in silver coin and in gold as well. In the Pahlavi tongue, among the Persian priests, this weight was named a 'peydavosi.' Then he brought leather sacks, spread them out, and joyfully poured the silver upon them. Along the road, wherever he saw a ruined bridge, or heard of a caravanserai in need, and for every poor person in the world, and anyone who earned his bread by his own labor, third, he weighed out silver on the scales for widows and orphaned children. fourth, for every old man worn out by work, past his days of struggle and battle. fifth, for anyone of noble birth whom no wealthy person ever cared to remember. sixth, for anyone who came from a long journey and kept his poverty hidden away. He gave to all of them a great deal of money; not for a single day was the king sullen about giving. All the spoils he set aside for the army; hoarding treasure brought him no satisfaction. Then he ordered his pure-hearted people to bring forward the crown of the Khaqan of China. The jewels set within it they pried loose, and set them into the walls of the fire temple. They adorned it with gold and gems, and decorated the head of the fire's throne. From there he went toward Ctesiphon, where Narsi was, with the priest as his guide. All the chiefs came out to welcome him, the great men of Iran and its warriors. When Narsi saw the head and crown of the king, the heart-cheering banner and so vast an army, he dismounted and bowed low before him, as did the great men and the proud chief priest. Bahram commanded him to rise and take his seat, and then he clasped Narsi's hand in his own. He came and sat upon the golden throne, the great men standing before him with belts fastened in service. He gave a treasury to those in need, and threw open the doors of the crowded prison. The age was filled with joy and justice; the hearts of the grieving were freed from sorrow. He drove pain and grief from every land, and held a great feast for the nobles. At that feast, everyone who hurried to attend received a robe of honor fit for the great.

On the third day they set out a feast of nobles, and seated the scribe before them. As his face grew bright with wine, he cheerfully wrote out a letter, sealed with affection. He began the letter first with praise for the one who has washed his soul clean with joy. The one who has made wisdom the ornament of his heart, and through the body's labor drawn strength from kindness to others. He recognized all good things as coming from God, sought wisdom, and kept company with the learned. Know this: from justice nothing but good comes forth, and it does not knock at the door of ill temper. Anyone among our officials, our proud and battle-hardened riders, who makes the people cry out shall see nothing but the pit or the gallows, and if killed, be cast down worthless in the dust. Strive to lessen suffering; make the hearts of the grieving glad and free of sorrow. For the world stays with no one for long; seek only harmlessness and justice, nothing else. In this world I am the standard raised; I am the very cause and sign of righteousness. For so vast an army marched against me, aiming at this renowned assembly. I went out from here with a small force, and those who wished me ill turned into well-wishers. A famous man like the Khaqan of China, a world-ruler with crown and throne and signet ring, fell captive into my hands, and the fortune of the Turks was overturned. The pure God made me victorious; the heads of my enemies went beneath the earth. May my craft be nothing but service to God, and my thought nothing but the truth. For seven years I will take no tribute from the world, whether from a subject below me or an equal. To every official and headstrong ruler they wrote out a letter in Pahlavi: Toward those beneath you use nothing but custom and justice; do not follow any evil path. Anyone in the city who is poor, who takes no share in the days of joy, send their names to us, and we will grant them what they wish. Likewise all who are of noble birth, who dread the hardship of the road, provide for them from our treasury so they need nothing, and give the wise their honored rank. One who has debts and empty hands is left without worth or standing in every task. Pay off their debts from our treasury too, and record their names in the registers. Ask of God that, just like this, He keep our heart devoted to faith and religion. Rejoice in this affection of ours, and show kindness to those great ones. Do not treat servants and slaves with contempt, for they too are servants of the Creator. Whoever has the means and standing should hand his children over to teachers. Enrich souls with knowledge; make wisdom a crown upon the body. Keep your hands off what belongs to others; be harmless and worship God. Strive and do not break our covenant; tear out the roots and branches and bonds of evil. Take refuge in God and obey Him; pledge your soul to His love. Do not seek to harm your neighbors, nor those great and noble ones. Anyone worthless who has gained the upper hand and overstepped the bounds of his low station, do not call him great, for such a rise soon slips back down to lowliness. Withhold nothing from the poor, every one of you who has no need. Turn toward the pure and do good; do not crush the hearts and hopes of those in need. Whatever has strayed from what is right stays close to harm. May the blessing of the Lord be on the soul of anyone whose very fabric is woven of humanity. When they had written it on Chinese silk, the scribe dipped his pen's tip in musk. As its heading he wrote: the king of the world, the generous heart who knows good from ill, the Lord of mercy, glory, and strength, the bountiful king of kings, Bahram Gur, to the obedient governors of the marches, the wise, the learned, and the warlike chiefs. In every direction couriers, riders, and swift camels set off carrying the guiding letter. When that letter reached every land, every notable and every chief, everyone said: thanks be to God that this world-ruler knows and reveres Him. Women, men, and children went out onto the plains, coming from their homes in every land. In private they called down blessings on that just king of the world. After that they set out a feast, and called for wine, music, and minstrels. One half of the day was for feasting, the other half was for work. Each morning, fresh at dawn, a cry would go up before the king's court: Whoever has, let him eat and give, and count the gift of food as a duty upon himself. Whoever is in need, let him come to the treasury and take five weighed silver coins, three units of aged, refined wine, the color of pomegranate blossom tinged with gold. The whole world turned its face to pleasure; town and street rang with the voices of wine-drinkers. It came to such a state that a garland of willow and rose, at the mere sight of it, one longed to have. For a single coin a man could buy a spray of narcissus, and no one grew unhappy over it. With joy the old man's heart grew young; in the fountains the waters seemed like milk. The world-seeking king remembered God, for he saw the whole world so full of joy.