Bahram and the Jeweler's Daughter

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.