Part 2: The Washerman and Darab

When the washerman came home late from the river, his wife greeted him with these words: 'You're back, and the clothes are still half wet. How will you earn any money from work like this?' The washerman's heart was withered with grief, for his clever little child had died. The washerman's wife was distraught over the child, her cheeks scored with scratches, her spirit gone dark. He said to her, 'Come back to your senses. From now on such wailing shames you.' 'Now, though the tale has stayed hidden, I will tell it to my worthy wife.' 'On the stone where I beat the clothes clean, once they are washed I throw them into the water.' 'In that stream I saw a chest, and hidden inside it lay a child.' 'When I opened the sealed lid, a longing seized me to look at the little one.' 'If we once had a small son, he did not live long, he died.' 'Now you have found a son together with wealth, adorned with gold coins and fine silk.' When he set the clothes down on the ground, he opened the narrow neck of the chest. The washerman's wife saw it and stood amazed; she called out to the Creator of the world. She saw a radiant face wrapped in silk, in looks the very likeness of Ardeshir. His pillow was heaped with lustrous pearls, agate and green peridot at his feet. To his left lay red gold coins, to his right, rubies fit for a king. The wife quickly gave him her breast to nurse; she rejoiced in that lovely child. By the child's beauty and by the treasure, her heart was cleansed of grief. The washerman said, 'Let us cherish this one with our lives forever,' 'for this child will be a man of renown, perhaps even a king in the world.' The washerman's wife raised him as her own kin, just as if he were her own child. On the third day they named him Darab, since they had found his cradle in the running water. One day it happened that the good, wise wife spoke of many things with her husband: 'What will you do now with these jewels? Let your good sense be your guide in this.' The washerman said, 'My good companion, whether dust or jewels, keep them hidden for me.' 'It is best that we leave this city, escape from hardship and poverty out to the open plains,' 'to a city where no one knows us, we who are lowly, joyless, and hard pressed.' At dawn the washerman loaded his belongings, set out, and gave no thought to his homeland. They carried Darab in their arms and loaded nothing but jewels and gold. He crossed sixty leagues of that border land and made his dwelling in another city. In that foreign city he settled in, living like the wealthiest of householders. In a city ruled by a famous lord, he sent a jewel to him, and from him he received clothing, silver, and gold; so it went until few of the jewels remained. In the house nothing was left in the chest but red sulphur, no goods good or bad. The wife, alarmed by their dwindling wealth, one day said this to her husband: 'We have no need of this trade any longer; you have grown rich, so give up your old craft.' The householder answered her thus: 'My pure and guiding wife,' 'you call it a mere craft, but what is better than a craft? A trade always comes first in every affair.' 'Keep Darab pure and well cared for, and let us see what fortune brings.' They held him so precious that not even a fierce wind was allowed to harm him. When the wheel of heaven had turned above him a few years, he grew into a boy of grace and strength. He would go wrestling in the lanes with grown men; no one had his frame or his power. All the boys came together in a band, and all at once they were worn out by him. The washerman despaired of the boy's ways, and his brisk trade grew slack and dim. He told him, 'Beat these clothes on the stone; there is no shame in following a trade.' But when Darab fled from that trade, the washerman wept tears of blood. Two thirds of his time was spent searching; he sought word of him through the plains and the city. He would find him somewhere with a bow in hand, the stock ready, his thumb ring in place for the string. He would take the bow away and say coldly, 'You harmful, quarrelsome wolf,' 'why do you keep circling arrows and bows? Why, so young, have you turned to trouble?' Darab said to the washerman, 'My father, why do you muddy this water of mine?' 'First send me to the school of learning, and once I have properly learned the Zand and Avesta,' 'then order me to a trade and demand it of me; but do not ask me now to keep this household.' The washerman reproached him at length, then handed him over to the teachers. He learned wisdom and became high minded, rising above all the scolding and blame. He said to the man who raised him, 'Father, I will never make a good washerman.' 'Set your love for me free of worry, and make horsemanship my calling in this world.' The washerman found for him a complete horseman, a skilled rein handler, rider, and man of good name. He put him in his charge for a long time, and Darab learned everything he needed. How to handle rein, lance, and shield, and to wheel his mount upon the battlefield; likewise the strokes of the polo stick, and arrow and bow, seeking skill, keeping clear of malice and evil. He grew so accomplished in these arts that even a leopard would not dare grapple with him in combat.