Reign of Hormozd, Twelve Years

Summer smiled at the red apple and gently teased it about its fruit and leaves, saying: that little bunch of blossoms you once held so joyfully at your side in springtime, its color could put the wind itself to shame, and its grip on the branch brought back the memory of a beloved. What did you do to find buyers for it? Where did you find so brisk a market for such a thing? Who gave you together this red agate and green gem, until your branch bent low from the heavy load? It seems you wanted a price for the flower, and with that hue you adorned your own face. A blush of shame rises from your neck, and the scent of musk drifts from your shirt. Perhaps you bought your robe from the planet Jupiter, and dotted the pearls upon it with drops of blood. Your leaves are green gems, your bark is violet, and your crown stands higher than the royal banner. With your ornament of yellow, red, and white, you made me despair of the petals of the rose. My beauty, my spring, where have you gone, that you have hidden away the garden's adornment? Autumn's fragrance now comes on your breeze; I remember you with a cup of wine in hand. When your color turns green again I will praise you, and deck you out like the crown of Hormoz. For today my market is brisk and thriving; after my death you will find no trace of me.

There was an old guardian of the marches of Herat, a man well regarded and experienced in every field. His name was Makh, a man who had seen the world, eloquent, dignified, with strength and standing. I asked him what he remembered of Hormozd, who took his seat on the throne of justice. The old man of Khorasan said this: when the king sat upon that famous throne, first he offered praise to the Creator, the powerful one who knows all time. Then he said: we will make this throne renowned, and we will honor those of high worth. We will hold the world under our wing, just as our father held it with justice and glory. We will make the guilty tremble, and give the oppressed ease and comfort. The pillar of greatness is patience, along with generosity, justice, and worthiness. Know that from the Creator of the world, neither good nor evil ever stays hidden. Our ancestors, the crowned kings of the age, whose justice earned them the world's praise, sought nothing but justice and what is right, greatness, valor, and worthiness. Service from the lesser, kindness from the greater, and keeping the ill-wisher in anguish. In every land the command and authority are mine; power, justice, and covenant are mine. The one whom God makes king, the righteous take pride in him. For a king's true wealth is mercy; the world finds peace through generosity. We will be kind to the poor, and we will protect those of high rank. Whoever feels secure in his own affairs will conduct his dealings with us the same way. Whatever you desire from me, do not hide it in your good-natured hearts. Whatever fills your heart with fear, it is easy for me to give you justice for it. Every one of you who is fortunate, rejoice in this crown and throne. My brilliance among the great comes from my mercy, justice, and generosity. Increase your kindness, and cast malice and greed out of your hearts. Whoever abstains from these two things will never see misfortune with his own eyes. Strive, all of you, low and high alike, for the pleasure of the Creator of the world. And the one whose mind is full of wisdom will never let his heart turn to ingratitude. When you increase your kindness toward others, its reward will surely come back to you. Do not mix with the crooked-tongued, for such a person has only words against you. And if your king is just, do not hold a bad opinion of him. Even if you think he does not know, he does read the words of kings. When the king shows mercy from his heart, do not sow the seed of crookedness in the land. Whoever holds our counsel in contempt washes his heart clean of any good fortune. When the king is pleased with you, that is uprightness; but if you turn away from him, that is ruin. His harshness is really kindness in the advice he gives you; he seeks out whoever grows warm in loyalty to him. Never shun goodness because it brings hardship, and never gladden your heart with a treasury built on injustice. Once you have found your heart's desire in the world, you have reached the place you were rushing toward. If you place seventy crowns upon your head, you will hand all you gathered over to the enemy. My heart cares about the poor in everything; I will not let my concern for them ever break. I ask the pure Creator to grant me enough time and fortune, so that I may make the poor happy with wealth, and never bring pain to the heart of the devout. Whoever in this world takes on the manner of a king, his head grows heavy dragging in hoards of gold. I will turn his head away from that greed; no one should go seeking to be master over others. This is our end and our beginning, our open speech and also our secret. The blessing of the world's Creator be upon you; the arching wheel of heaven, the earth, are yours. When the assembly heard his words, one by one they fell deep into thought. The heads of the treasury-keepers filled with fear, and the heart of the oppressor was split in two. But every wise and poor person there felt joy grow within their heart. So it went, until his greatness was fully set in place and he had whatever he wished in his kingdom. Then he flared up and brought out his evil nature, and stepped aside from the path of custom and faith. Everyone who had been honored by his father, living happy and safe from any threat of harm, he destroyed one by one, though they were innocent; such was the king's judgment and his ways. There were three men among the scribes of Nushin-Ravan: one old and wise, another young, one named Izad-Goshasp, and another Borzmehr, a wise scribe of noble bearing and fine face, and a third whose name was Mah-Azar, wise, bright of heart, and content. On Nushin-Ravan's throne these three elders had served like ministers and counselors. Hormoz wanted to suddenly wipe out each of these three men. His heart was full of dread of them, fearing that one day they would turn ungrateful toward him. At that time he struck at Izad-Goshasp, and for no reason bound him and threw him in prison. The heart of the chief priest grew tight with grief, and his cheeks went pale with worry. For he was a priest of pure nature; among men his name was Zardhosht. From the chains of Izadgoshasp the scribe, his heart grew so wounded it might crack like a struck target. As the days passed he had no visitor, no food, no clothing, no one to ease his grief. From prison, the man sent a message to the high priest: You who hold my body and soul in your hands, here I am, forsaken in the king's prison, with no one allowed to come near me. I long for something to eat; an empty stomach only sharpens my suffering. Send me some clean food, send a remedy for this festering wound. The high priest's heart was grieved by the pain in that message; his peace was gone. He answered: Bear with your fate, and do not complain if no harm has yet reached your life. His own reply left his heart folded with sorrow, and his mind grew troubled about himself. He sent a little food to the prison, though his heart trembled at the deed. He kept saying: Now word of this will reach that ungenerous, worthless man, that the high priest sent something to the prison, as if in his eyes our life were not worth a single coin. Harm will come to me from this lord of the world; in anger he will turn his face pale against me. And for the sake of Izadgoshasp the scribe, his heart was wrung and his face turned yellow as saffron. He ordered his cook to carry pure food down to the prison for him. Then he mounted an Arabian horse and rode to Izadgoshasp. They took each other in their arms, full of grief, their lashes wet like a spring cloud. They spoke for a while of the king's cruel nature, until the talk had run its course. They set a table before Izadgoshasp, then took up the ritual words and the barsom in hand. Then Izadgoshasp murmured his last counsel in a low chant, and the high priest listened. Of the gold, the treasure, the possessions, and the adorned palace and its hall, he said to the high priest: You who seek a good name, when you leave here, tell Hormozd this, that if he does not turn away from my words, and reflects on my suffering and my torment, I who have eaten at the table of your kings, I who raised you close to my own breast, for all that service my reward has been chains, and after the torment the fear of worse harm. A guiltless heart, filled with grief, my king, I will show to God on the day of reckoning. When the high priest went home at once, a spy hurried off from among the informers. He told Hormozd everything, point by point, and the king's heart was wedded to evil counsel. Then he grew harsh toward Izadgoshasp, sent men to the prison, and had him killed. He heard the high priest's many words but showed him no sign of his intent at all. He turned the matter over, good and bad, and settled on a plan to kill Zardhesht. He ordered his cook to slip poison secretly into one of the dishes. When the priest arrived at the time of audience and drew near the famous king, the king told him: today do not leave here, for we have taken on a new cook. When the priest sat down, the table was laid, and the color drained from his face. He knew that this table was his final hour, and he sensed the truth of it in his heart. The cooks brought out the dishes, and the king ate his fill from one end to the other. When the bowl of poison was set before him, the priest looked closely and studied it. His pure heart grew suspicious of it: this poison on the table was, for the king, his antidote. When Hormoz noticed, he pressed his lips shut and reached his hand toward that bowl of poison. In the way that kings show their favor and honor to their servants, he took the marrow from the bone in that bowl and stretched his noble hand across the table. He said to the priest: pure-minded one, I have prepared this fine, choice morsel for you. Open your mouth and eat of this dish, for from now on this is how you will be cared for. The priest replied: by your life and your head, may your head and crown live forever, do not command me to eat this delicacy; I have reached my fill, do not press more on me. Hormoz said to him: by the sun and the moon, and by the pure soul of the world-ruling king, take this delicacy from my finger; do not break my heart in this wish of mine. The priest said: the king's command has come, and I have no choice or way left. He ate, and rose from the table wretched and writhing, and rode swiftly toward his own house. He told no one of that poisoned meal; he threw down a garment and lay moaning in bed. He ordered that an antidote be brought, even if it had to be fetched from the city's treasuries. He swallowed the remedy, but it did no good; he cried out bitterly to God against Hormoz. The king sent a trusted man to check on the priest's condition, to see whether the poison had taken effect on his body, if his scheme had not gone as planned. When the priest's eyes fell on the messenger, tears streamed down from his lashes to his cheeks. He said: go and tell Hormoz that your fortune has turned its face away from you. In this dispute we will go before the Judge, to a place where we two will stand as equals. From now on do not feel safe from evil, for God's requital will come to you. Farewell, you scheming man; from your own wicked deeds evil will fall upon you. When he heard this, he wept, then steadied himself and brought his answer before the king. The commander came to regret his own deed and turned away from his own honest words. He saw no cure for that pain, and drew many a cold sigh from his heart. In that moment the high priest of priests died, and the wise men wept bitterly over him. So it is: the world is all pain and sorrow. Why reach for a crown, why gloat over treasure? For these pleasant days will pass, and time keeps counting each breath we take. When the wise man's life ended in grief, the whole kingdom was thrown into turmoil by the pain. The bloodthirsty, ill-tempered ruler gave no thought at all to the cruelty of fate. He girded himself tight to spill blood and raised his hand against Bahram-Azarmehan. When the night grew darker he summoned him, and seated him before himself on his knees. He said to him: if you want to be safe, and see no harshness or ill will from me, when the sun rises bright over the horizon and the mountaintop gleams like the back of a coat of mail, come with the nobles of Iran and stand there on your feet before my throne. I will question you about Sima-ye Borzin. When you give your answer, harden your heart. I will ask: who is this friend of yours? Is he a man of virtue, a worshipper of God? You must answer thus: he is an evil man, malicious, and of the seed of Ahriman. And after that, ask of me whatever you wish: servants, a throne, favor, and a crown. Bahram said to him: I will do exactly so, and of this slander you spoke I will make a hundredfold more. About Sima-ye Borzin, who came from the great, whose father was that lamp of the world, the chosen one, he kept scheming how to find a way to cast off the garment of loyalty. When that ivory-colored veil appeared and the sun came out from the house of Gemini, the ruler sat upon his ivory throne, and they hung above him that priceless crown. The great men of Iran at that court gathered together until the army arrived. The master of the audience drew back the curtain from the door, and all at once they came before the king. Bahram-Azarmehan at the front, along with Sima-ye Borzin and the young champions, each took his place according to his rank, while a group remained standing in front. The king said to Bahram-Azarmehan: as for Sima-ye Borzin at this court, he deserves treasure if he is a man of toil, for an ill-wisher is not fitting for reward. Bahram-Azarmehan understood what that question of the king of the world was truly about, and what its root and origin were, and that over that root he would have cause to weep. In the end, this proud gathering of lords will find nothing but a grave without a shroud. He answered: My generous king, do not so much as mention the name of Simay-e Borzin. For the ruin of the land of Iran comes from him; may he have no brain in his body and no skin on his flesh. He speaks of nothing but the worst, and on that worst he passes his judgment. When Simay-e Borzin heard these words, he said to him: My good old friend, do not testify to evil against me; do not grant such a demon your friendship. What have you seen from me, that you side with the deeds and words of Ahriman? Bahram Azarmahan said to him: You have scattered a seed across the world; and from that harvest you will be the first to reap; from your fire you will gain nothing but dark smoke. When Khosrow summoned me and you, and seated us before the imperial throne, along with Borzmehr, chief of the chief priests, and that fair-faced great one, Izadgoshasb, he asked: This imperial throne, whom does it befit, and who carries the royal glory? Shall I give it to the younger son, or to the elder, who is more worthy of the crown? We all rose to our feet as one and prepared our answer for him: This son of a Turk is not worthy; no one will accept him as king. For he is of Khaqan's line and of tainted blood, in stature and face just like his mother. You said that Hormoz was fit to be king; now this is your reward for that fitness. I gave you my testimony for this reason, and this is why I opened my lips to curse you. Hormoz withered with shame when he heard that man speak the truth. In the dark of night he sent them both to prison, and against them he opened his mouth in fury. On the third night, when the moon raised its head above the mountain, the king finished with Simay-e Borzin. In the prison he had him killed by thieves; now he holds nothing but suffering and a fistful of curses. When Bahram Azarmahan heard that the pure-hearted man had vanished, he sent a message to the king: You whose crown rises higher than the sphere of the moon, you know how hard I have worked to keep your secrets hidden. In the presence of your father, that worthy king, I was nothing but your well-wisher. Let me give you one piece of advice, if you summon me and seat me on the royal throne. There is benefit for you in my counsel; leave me a moment in prison, still in chains. It will bring gain to Iran, and no harm comes to a wise man. When his message reached Hormoz, the king chose a trusted confidant from among his men. So they brought Bahram before the king, into that famous royal court. In the dark of night the king summoned Bahram and spoke with him warmly for a while. He said: tell me, what is that counsel that could make our days better? Bahram answered: in the king's treasury I saw a plain black chest. Inside the chest a small casket was placed, and inside the casket a note in Persian. It was written on white silk; in it lay the hope of the Iranians. In the hand of your father, that world ruling king; you must look upon it. When Hormoz heard this he sent someone to the keeper of the treasury for help. Saying: search among your father's treasures for a plain chest with a seal upon it. On that seal is the name of Nushin-Ravan; may his soul stay forever young. Bring it to me this very night; do not waste much time in the search. The keeper hurried, sought out the chest, and brought it swiftly with its seal intact. The king opened the chest and remembered Nushin-Ravan again and again. In the chest he saw the sealed casket; he hurried and drew out the silk from it. Then he looked at the hand of Nushin-Ravan, written upon that silken note. It said: for ten years and two more on top, Hormoz will be a matchless sovereign. After that the world will fill with turmoil; his name and fame will fade into hiding. From every side an enemy will appear, a man of vile stock, a devil in the flesh. His army will scatter in all directions, and the enemy will cast him down from his throne. His own wife will blind both his eyes, and after that they will take the life from his body. Hormoz saw that note in his father's hand; terrified, he drew out the silk. His eyes filled with blood, his face turned yellow; he said to Bahram: you cruel man, what were you seeking through this note? You mean to snatch my head from me. Bahram said to him: you son of a Turk, may you never take joy in spilling blood. You are of Khaqan's line, not of Kay-Qobad; it was Kasra who set the crown upon your head.

Hormoz understood that this man, given the chance, would keep spilling blood without any guidance to hold him back. He listened to those bitter, self-serving words, then sent Bahram off to prison. The next night, when the moon lifted its head over the mountains, in that grim prison he had him killed. After that no wise counsel remained at his court, no true guidance, no honest priest. From a bad temper only worse things come; take care never to look toward an evil disposition. From then on his life was no longer sweet; out of grief he set his own heart on fire. Each year he would spend two months in Istakhr, in the season when the black nights were short. For it was a cool city with clear air, and it was not right to pass it by. When the deep blue veil of the sky was drawn away, the mountain of yellow topaz would appear, the dawn. A herald would raise his cry: 'You renowned ones, full of glory and good sense,' 'If any planted field is trampled, and the farmer is left ruined by that loss,' 'if a horse strays into a field of crops, or if anyone raids an orchard for its fruit,' 'the horse's tail and ears shall be cut off, and the thief's head shall be raised on the gallows.' For two months the moon turned over the world, and neither good nor ill was hidden from it. In every province he dealt out justice like this, and from the farmers he received blessings. He had one cherished son, so radiant that beside the moon he seemed hardly less. His father had named him Parviz, and would sometimes call him the joyful king, Khosrow. The boy was never apart from his father for a moment, and the father could not bear to be away from his son. It happened that a horse broke loose from its stall, the very mount that Prince Parviz rode. The young horse came into a field of crops; the horse's keeper came running after it. The owner of that field came forward and wept bitterly before the appointed overseer. The overseer said to him, 'Whose horse is this, that must now be mourned for its tail and ears?' The owner said, 'It is the horse of Prince Parviz, who shows no regard for us common folk.' The overseer went to the king and reported what he had heard from the fields. Hormoz said to him, 'Go and be quick about it; cut off the horse's tail and ears at once.' 'The damage done to that planted field, you must reckon exactly how much it comes to,' 'and the loss must be taken back from Khosrow, whether it is a hundred or five hundred,' 'and coins from the treasury shall be poured out on that field before its rightful owner.' When Parviz heard this, seeking pardon, he stirred up the nobles from every side, to plead with his father to forgive the offense and not cut off the black horse's tail and ears. After that the king grew furious with him, and sharply shouted at his attendant. Out of fear of Hormoz the officer ran to that field, close to the young man's horse. With a dagger he cut off its ears and tail, because its hooves had damaged that farmland. And Khosrow, by the king's command, also paid compensation to that plaintiff. Afterward the king went out to hunt, and everyone brought back plenty of game. There was a rider, a noble and daring man, of a commander's line and high fortune. On the road he saw a vine full of unripe grapes, and ordered his servant to rush in. He cut off several clusters and carried them to the palace, handing them to his cook. The owner of the vine came at once and said to the man, 'You wicked, ill-thinking one.' 'You never toiled to tend this vine, nor paid a single coin or treasure for its worth.' 'Why did you ruin what cost you no labor? Now I will lodge a complaint against you before the king.' The bold rider, fearing the loss, quickly unfastened the belt from his waist. He gave him a precious golden belt, with a jewel set into every stud. When the vine's owner saw the belt he said, 'How long can a wicked deed be hidden?' 'Do not seek to befriend the king; you never bought this, so charge no price for it.' 'I lay a debt of gratitude on you for this belt, but you will squirm if the just king hears of it.' Hormoz was a king who had grown famous through his victories. Praised for his courage in every gathering, a man who never knew defeat in battle. He both dispensed justice and demanded it, raising the royal crown up to the moon. He never lingered in the city of Ctesiphon; he was a brave leader who cared for his honor. Spring, summer, winter, and autumn, Hormoz the lion-hearted hero never rested. He roamed the whole world from end to end, seeking excellence in his kingship. When his reign completed ten full years, the cry of enemies rose from every land. The Save Shah came by the road of Herat, with elephants, war drums, treasure, and an army. If you count the Save Shah's army, reckon it at four hundred times a thousand. Twelve hundred war elephants; you would think there was no room left on the earth. From the plain of Herat to the gate of Marv-Rud, the troops were packed thick like warp and weft. From this side he marched his army toward Marv, until the ground vanished under the army's dust. The Shah wrote a letter to Hormoz: 'Summon your troops to yourself from every direction.' 'Prepare the road for this army, lay in provisions, and remember the edge of our sword.' This kingdom is what I mean to seize: their forces cover the sea, the mountains, and the plains. When the king read that letter, he grew despondent at the thought of that countless army. From the other side, Caesar came out of Rome and marched his army into the land. The Roman host numbered a hundred thousand, famous warriors ready for battle. From the city that Nushirvan had taken, the very name of which made Caesar tremble. From every country an army came, each led by a renowned commander. An army came by the road of the Khazars, so many that the whole land turned black with them. A seasoned old warrior stood at their head, with his treasure and his troops beside him. From Armenia to the gates of Ardabil his army was scattered in troop after troop. From the plains an army beyond counting came, riders skilled with the lance. Men like Abbas and Hamza led them, fresh riders and proud, high-headed men. That land was ruined and laid waste by their raiding, the land whose tribute Hormoz was demanding. The army came as far as the waters of the Euphrates, leaving no green thing growing in that land. When the good days grew dark, news of the enemy reached Hormoz. When he heard the report of his scouts, the fresh and blooming king of the world withered. He sent for the Iranians and summoned them, and filled the whole palace with his people. He brought out the secret he had kept hidden and told it to those famous nobles of Iran. That such vast armies had turned toward Iran, no one in the world could remember its like. All the nobles were left dumbstruck, and turned over every kind of plan in their minds. They said, 'O king of wisdom and good judgment, lend your ear to this matter.' 'You are a wise king, and we are your lessers; we do not count ourselves as high priests.' 'Think now: what is the remedy for this? Who is there to guard our land and homeland?' The high priest, who was his minister, spoke thus: 'O wise king, ready to learn.' 'If the Khazar army comes to fight, they will not last a moment in battle.' 'We will settle scores with the Romans, and tear up the Arabs by the very roots.' 'I feel no fear in my heart of the Arabs; even the sight of them harms the eye.' 'They eat snakes and lizards alike, and have no skill in war when the fighting comes.' 'It is the king of Sava who is nearer to you, and because of him our situation is darker.' 'Our trouble will come by the road of Khorasan, where an army may destroy our forces and our treasure.' 'When the Turk crosses the Oxus to make war, there must be no delay in dealing with him.' The king, still seeking a way forward, asked the high priest: what shall we do now against Saveh Shah? The priest replied: raise an army, for a king wins his glory through his troops. Summon the muster officer to bring the count, so we know how many fighting men we can rely on. The officer came to the king with his rolls and reported a countless host. The tally of the army came to a hundred thousand, many on foot and many on horseback. The priest said: against Saveh Shah it would be wiser not to rush into battle with only this force. Seek instead humanity and justice, and cast aside crookedness and flaw. Spare the lesser folk from harm, as befits the way of true kings. Have you not heard the great tale of how the famous, mighty Arjasp, for the sake of faith, brought such ruin upon Goshtasp and Lohrasp with those horsemen of China? What grief fell upon the city of Balkh, so that life in that land turned bitter? So it went, with battle in every form, until at last Esfandiyar prevailed. Though I am younger in years than my elder, in wisdom and counsel I can surpass him. Then the king said to the priest: so that Caesar will not seek war with us, I will hand back to him the cities the king had seized, and he will turn from his path. He looked for a messenger, an able scribe, wise, well spoken, and quick to learn. Tell Caesar this: from the land of Rome I want no more tribute from that region and its soil. And you, set no foot on the borders of Iran, if you wish to prosper and stay great. When the messenger reached Caesar, he repeated what he had heard from the king of Iran. At once the king of Rome turned back and brought no war upon that land. The king chose an army from among the Iranians, whose warriors could darken the daylight. He sent them off to trample down the frontier of the Khazars in that region. Their commander was Khorrad, a man of splendor, throne, and justice. When his army reached Armenia, the Khazar forces took to flight. They slew great numbers of them and carried off much plunder from that land. When word reached the king that Khorrad and his army had triumphed, no grudge remained but the one against Saveh Shah, and it set his mind deep in thought. The king had a devoted servant, wise, clear sighted, and named Nastuh. He said to the king of the world: may you live forever, and may evil stay far from you always. You should ask Mehran Setad what he recalls of the old days. He sits in a corner with his sacred books and teacher, worn old and weak from all his hopes in this world. In these times I went to him and stayed with him one day and one night. I kept telling him about the king of Saveh, his war elephants and his vast army. When the talk turned to it, he answered me from that ancient lore of long ago. I asked the old Mehran Setad: what do you remember of the days gone by? He answered: if the king of the world asks me, I will reveal what is hidden. At once the king of kings commanded, and a famed man hurried to him. They lifted the old man's body from that palace and set him swiftly inside a litter. When the aged man came before the king, his heart full of knowledge, his head full of words, Hormuz asked Mehran Setad: what do you remember about this warlike Turk? The old man answered him: O king who speaks and remembers well, back when the Khaqan sent your mother from China to the land of Persia, I was the one who led the delegation to ask for her hand, with a hundred and sixty brave, valiant men. Your father, that wise and just ruler of the world, would not accept a servant's daughter from the Khaqan. He told me: ask for none but the queen's own daughter; a serving girl does not belong at the royal court. I went to the Khaqan of China and praised him with a royal blessing. He had five daughters, each like spring, all full of fragrance, color, and beauty. The king sent me into the harem, and I went to that noble chamber. They had adorned the daughters' faces and arranged their curling locks upon rosy cheeks. Yet your mother wore no crown upon her head, no bracelet, no torque, no jewel. Of them all, only she was the queen's true daughter, though without ornament, color, or charm. For the Chinese queen was of the emperor's line, and by her nature was far from wrongdoing. It grieved the mother's heart deeply that her child would be sent to a distant place. She was heartsick at parting that virtuous daughter from the royal house. I chose her out of all the daughters and turned my eyes away from the others. The queen said to me: choose another, for all five are lovely and blessed. My answer was: this one I must have; if I choose another, harm will come to me. She sent for and summoned the astrologers, and seated them on their knees by the royal throne. She began to inquire about her daughter's star, how the turning of her fortune would be. The astrologer said: you will see nothing but good and hear nothing but righteousness. From this daughter and the king of the Iranians a child will be born like a fierce, raging lion. Tall in stature and thick-armed, brave as a lion and generous as a rain cloud. Dark-eyed, full of anger, and impatient; when his father dies, he will become king. He will enjoy much of his father's treasure and will pass many days without counting them. After that a mighty king will rise, bringing a great army from the Turks. He will plan to seize all of Iran and the land of Yemen for that gathered host. The king of Iran will grow anguished over him and fear that high, victorious fortune. He will have a lesser man far off, a proud horseman devoted to his lord. Tall in height and lean of body, with curly hair like musk around his head. A skilled and bold speaker with a large nose, dark-skinned, sharp-tongued, and formidable. He is called Chubina, seeker of the world, and he too is descended from the great warriors. When this servant, with only a small force, comes from somewhere to the king's court, he will suddenly crush that Turk and throw his whole army into chaos. When the Khaqan heard what the astrologer said, I never saw anyone happier than he. So he gave his daughter to Nushirvan; she was the crown among his daughters. I accepted her on the king's behalf, and once that was done I set out for home. He brought many jewels from his treasury, gems we had endured hardship to carry. He rode as far as the bank of the Oxus river and set the world-seeing girl aboard a boat. From the Oxus he turned back with a heart full of grief, sharing the pain of parting from his child. Now I have told everything I saw, here before the ruler, the shepherd of the people. Search this land for this man; when you find someone swift, it is right to say to him, hurry. For the king's victory rests in his hands; do not let this word reach an enemy, only a friend. He said this, and his soul left his body; the whole assembly wept bitterly over him. The king of kings was left in wonder at him, scattering the blood of his heart through his lashes in tears. Mehran Sitad said to the Iranians: he had kept all these truths in his memory. When he told me each one and then died, he gave up his worthy soul to God. I thank God that from this old man such necessary words came forth. We must seek the signs from every leader, whether he be great or lowly. Search until you accomplish this and bring all this labor to its end. There was a renowned leader who was master of the royal stables. His name was Rad-Farrokh, and all the king's joy and desire rested on him. He came to the king and reported the news of what this worthy man had done against the rebels. About Bahram, son of Gushasp, a proud horseman who wheels his steed in battle. He will surpass all that I could imagine; I have never seen a frontier commander like him in the field. Grant him Bardaa and Ardabil; he has become renowned, with his war-drums and his troops. He sent word and gave Bahram the good news, repeating to him what Mehran Setad had said. The world-seeker set out swiftly from Bardaa, taking with him an army of proud warriors. When Bahram drew close along the road, the king ordered that he be granted audience. The seasoned man beheld the face of the king of kings and showered praise upon that renowned lord. The king studied him for a while, and thought nothing but good of him. He saw in him the signs Mehran Setad had described, and he smiled and his face grew bright with joy. After that he questioned him and treated him kindly, and prepared for him an honored place.

The dark night lifted like a musk-scented veil, and the sun revealed its face. The border lord came to the court, before the king, and the noblemen opened the way. The world's ruler summoned Bahram close and seated him on the throne above the great ones. Then he asked: should I make peace with Saveh Shah, or should I send an army? The warrior answered him: there is no way to make peace with Saveh Shah. If he means to prepare for war, then asking for peace is nothing but retreat. And besides, your enemy grows bold when he sees your ambition brought low. If you offer a feast when the time calls for battle, this ruling will look like submission. Hormoz said to him: then what is your counsel? Should I delay, or should I move at once? He answered: if the ill-wisher turns his head from justice, war is the better omen. What did that wise and worthy man say? That tyranny has no place beside justice. Seek battle with your evil-doing enemy, for you are bringing fire and water into one stream. And if the matter turns out otherwise, the ancient heavens will choose a new king. When we put the strength of our own arms to work, we bring forward every skill we have. There will be no reproach from the pure God, and no shame before the heroes when it is examined. But if, before ten thousand Iranians even fall, we foolishly turn our heads from battle, what will the fault-finding enemy say of you, that you fled the ill-wisher without a fight? When we rain arrows down upon the enemy and make our bows like spring clouds, when sword and mace, a hundred thousand strong, shatter on the field of battle, if our victory still does not appear, we must not lose heart from our fortune. And after that, we submit to the enemy only when we are senseless, lifeless, and broken. We will struggle against the turning of the heavens, even if our time comes to an end in the fight. When the king heard Bahram's words, he laughed, and the court grew bright. They left the ruler's presence, the seasoned ones, their hearts full of blood. They said to Bahram: when he questions you in council, do not be so reckless in your boldness. Saveh Shah has an army so vast it blocks the path even to ants and gnats. The way you spoke before the king, who would dare to be the commander of that army? Bahram said this to the chieftains: O renowned ones and mighty warriors, when the famous king gives the order, I am the one prepared to lead the army. The alert and watchful scouts went off at once to the king of the world. Bahram's words, however many he spoke, one poet turned each of them into ten. The king of Iran was gladdened by this, and freed from worry over that army. He made him commander over his troops, one who could lift his head into the clouds in battle. Everyone among the brave who sought glory called Bahram their general. The general came before the king and said, 'Let me hold a muster to count the troops.' 'Let me see which of the army are fit for war, and which will hang back when it is time to win renown.' The king said to him, 'You are the commander; the good and the bad of it all return to you.' The general went to the king's parade ground and ordered the army to pass before him. He chose an army from among the Iranians, everyone who was a crowned chief among the leaders. They wrote down the names of twelve thousand, armored men and riders in mailed horse-barding. They enrolled only those forty years of age; to spend a coin on any older or younger was forbidden. The commander was Bahram, son of Bahram, who had a name for seeking out the fight. There was one whose name was 'Hero-Chest,' whose chest and heart were full of vengeance. He made him chief of the warlike nobles, to come to the front of the line on the day of battle, to wheel his horse and proclaim his lineage, and stir the memory of past battles in the warriors' hearts. Another was named Izadgoshasp, who never turned his horse's face back from the fire of war. He ordered him to guard the baggage train, and to align the left wing evenly with the right. At the rear of the army was Hamdan-Goshasp, who could seize a lion's tail from horseback. Then the champion spoke to the army: 'O renowned men of bright souls,' 'Cause little harm and take little loss; never gird yourselves for wickedness.' 'If you want God to be your ally, He will make this dark marketplace of yours bright.' When, in the dark night, the trumpet's cry rose up, the whole army stirred from its place. They drove the horses forward all as one, so that if the sun should rise in the dark night, from the strength and readiness of horse and man, it would give no thought to the day of battle. When word reached the king of how wise Bahram had arranged everything, he was gladdened by his words and deeds; he opened the treasury and gave out pay. He threw open all the arsenals of war in Pars and in Ahvaz. Of the war-horses he had running free, he brought several herds into the city. He ordered that the army's champion should ask the king for whatever he needed. Thus the king said to Bahram, 'You who have surveyed war from every angle,' You have heard how much the famous Saveh Shah commands in weapons, treasure, and troops. When his Turkish soldiers go to war on the day of vengeance, the very ground trembles on the battlefield. You chose from the army twelve thousand armored riders on barded horses. With only this many men on the day of combat, I don't know how this task will turn out. Instead of young swordsmen, you asked the assembly for men of forty. The commander answered him this way: 'O king of good fortune and honest speech, you have heard the tale of the great ones who came before, kings of the world, that when victorious fortune is on your side, it is fine even if you have fewer allies. I have proof for this tale as well, if the ruling king will listen: when the people of Hamavaran captured King Kavus with an endless army, Rostam picked twelve thousand of the worthiest brave horsemen, and brought King Kavus out of chains, and no harm came to those famed warriors. So too Gudarz, son of Keshvad, chief of the noble and free-born, to avenge Siavash brought twelve thousand riders on barded horses. And the worthy Esfandiar also brought twelve thousand fighting men, and did to Arjasp all that he did, and turned that army and fortress to dust. If the army grows larger than this number, it moves beyond courage and sound judgment. A commander who brings three or four times too many troops to war will shrink from the fight. As for your saying that a man of forty seeks battle no more eagerly than a youth, the forty-year-old has experience, and in bravery he is greater still. He remembers the bond of bread and salt, and many turns of fate have passed over him. He fears the slanderer's tongue and cares for his good name, so he does not turn from the fight. For the sake of wife, children, and household, the worn man's spirit stirs itself. A youth sees a thing and takes the bait; when it's time to hold back, he has no patience. He has no wife, no child, no field, no craft; he sets no value on what is worthless or worthy. Since wisdom comes only through experience, he does not weigh the true stakes of things. If he happens to win in battle, he grows glad and laughing and lingers there. But if the enemy gains any advantage over him, that enemy sees nothing of him but his back. When the king heard his words, he grew as fresh as a flower in spring. He said to him: 'Go, put on your battle armor, and pass from the palace to the field.' The commander came from the king's side and asked for a belt, a coat of mail, armor, and a helmet. He threw the horse-armor over his bay steed and tied a coiled lasso to the saddle straps. The world-seeker, with ball and mallet and arrows, rode out to the field, himself and the minister. The commander came to the king's field and rolled in the dust before the army. When the world-ruler saw him, he offered praise, and the commander kissed the ground. Then the king brought out that banner whose emblem was a purple dragon. It had once gone before Rostam on the day of battle; the king of Iran swiftly took it in hand. When he had touched it, smiling, he gave it to Bahram, and heaped much praise upon him. He said to Bahram: my forefathers used to call this the chief of the whole assembly. That is, its owner was Rostam the champion, world-conqueror, victorious, and clear of soul. This standard you hold in your hand was his; may you be victorious and serve your king. I think you are another Rostam in courage, in valor, and in obedience. Then he praised him, saying: be triumphant and clear of soul. He came from the field to his seat, the commander with Rostam's standard in hand. The king's warriors dispersed, and the army's commander was joyful. When the dawn raised its head over the mountain, that shining golden shield appeared. The commander came to the king's palace, arms folded in respect in that great hall. He said to him: I have come without any excuse; through your glory I have become the crown of the age. I ask one favor of the king: that he send with me a trustworthy man. So that whoever fights and brings an enemy's head down into the dust, he may write that man's name in the record, and his wish will spread through the world. Hormozd said: Mehran the scribe is young, eloquent, and has a good memory. He ordered him to go with the commander, and the commander rushed swiftly toward battle. The army set out from the land of Ctesiphon, with the commander Bahram in the lead. An army wise, brave, and bold, and a vigilant commander like a raging lion. Hormozd said to the chief priest: the man is brave and glad to be on the field of battle. Now tell me what will come of this; every possibility should be weighed. The priest said to him: may you live forever, for you truly deserve eternal life. Given this hero's stature and bearing, and his sharp tongue and bright soul, he can only be joyful and victorious, and through him the king's enemies will be overthrown. I fear that in the end he too will turn his head away from God, the sustaining king. In his words he showed great boldness; speaking to the king, he was fierce as a lion. Hormoz said to him: Do not smear your feet with poison, you who think ill of the world. Since he has triumphed over Saveh Shah, it is fitting that I hand him the crown and throne. May it be so, and never otherwise, that he becomes a king who is blessed. When the priest heard these words from the king, he wilted and bit his lip in worry. The king kept this thought in his heart until these days came to pass. From the court he sought out a keeper of secrets to look into this matter and learn the truth. He said to him sharply: Go after the commander, and when you see what happens, report it to me. The eloquent man hurried off behind him, and no one was aware of his errand. He was both a guide and a reader of omens; you would ask him the outcome of every affair. When Bahram set out from Ctesiphon, he rode along with his spear held before him. A head seller came toward him on the road, some distance from the army's commander. He carried a tray fixed upon his head, and on it he had many washed heads. Startled, the general spurred his horse and lifted one of those heads on the point of his lance. He rode on until he raised the spear straight, then hurled the head to the side he wished. He made an omen of that head, saying: In just this way I will cut off Saveh Shah's head. I will cast it down before his army and throw all his troops into confusion. When the king's messenger saw this, he cast an omen from it, as was fitting. He said: This man of triumphant fortune will in the end win a throne through this toil. After that, once he grasps his heart's desire in his fist, he will turn from the king and grow harsh. He came before the king and told him this, and the ruler was joined with pain and grief. Those words were worse to him than death; he wilted, and that green leaf turned dark. He summoned a messenger from the young man's court and sent him swiftly after the commander. He told him: Go and say to the general: Tonight do not move from where you are. At dawn turn back and come to me; I want to empty the place of strangers. I will give you whatever advice I have, some words I recall that will be useful to you. The messenger came to the commander and told the young man what he had heard. He answered thus: One does not call an army back from its march, O wise king. Turning back from the road bodes ill as an omen; the enemy would only be emboldened by this. When I win, I will come to you and light up your army and your land with banners. The messenger came to the king and repeated what he had heard from that seeker of battle. The king was pleased by his words, and all the courier's toil turned out worthless. At dawn the commander led his army forward, calling the name of God over them. He marched to the land of Khuzestan, and not a single man of the army came to harm. A woman with a sack half full of straw went hurrying through the ranks. A horseman came and bought that sack, but paid nothing and turned his neck away in scorn. Crying out, she came to Bahram and said: I had a little store of straw hidden away. I was carrying it to sell, one sackful, and I passed before your army. Now on the road a horseman has taken it from me, one who wears an iron helmet on his head. At once they sought out that man and dragged him swiftly before the commander. Brave Bahram said to the man who had seized it: the crime you committed will cost you your head. They rushed him before the great tent and smashed his head and hands and feet to pieces. He cut his body in two with a dagger, and so struck fear into every man of injustice. A cry rose from the tent: O renowned men of pure intent, whoever seizes even a blade of straw from anyone will find no one to plead his case. I will cut his body in two with a dagger. Buy what you need with silver. Hormoz was tormented by his worries about Saveh's army, his elephants, and his treasure. As his thoughts grew many upon his heart, he became full of pain and grief over Bahram. His soul was full of sorrow, his heart split in two, and he carried fear and dread within it. When the dark night thrust its head above the moon's tower, the king spoke thus to Khorrad Borzin: Prepare yourself to go to the enemy; strive, and do not rest from riding hard. Observe his army: how many and what kind. Who is the commander, and who are the champions? He ordered a letter of counsel to be written to that man who had suffered so much harm. It came with a royal gift so great it could not be counted. He told the messenger: go toward Herat, and keep going until an army appears. Know then that it is Bahram, the warrior; do not think it is some other army. From there hurry close to Bahram and tell him everything you have heard. Say to him: with promises and favor I mean to spread a fine snare for him. Your secret must not be revealed, if he should hear your name and your voice. I will lure him into your trap; I will speak smooth and lengthy words to draw him in. Khorrad Borzin set out on the road, going toward the place the king had commanded. When he saw Bahram, he told him the words he had kept hidden. From there he went on toward Saveh Shah, to the place of his treasure, his elephants, and his army. He saw him, praised him, and bowed low, then spoke with him in secret about what he had heard. He piled his message with words of every kind, so that the army would move into Herat. When the famed leader reached the plain of Herat, he pitched his tent by the edge of the stream. A scout came riding out from the army and saw Bahram with his troops. The scout, seeing that brave force, came running to Saveh Shah. He said: An army has come to the plain of Herat, led by a renowned chief. When Saveh Shah heard these words from him, the questing man fell deep into thought. He called the envoy back from the tent and, in great fury, poured out many words. He said to him: You filthy, deceitful liar, did you never see the fall that follows the height? You came from the court of that contemptible king only to lay a trap for me on the road, to bring a Persian army to war and pitch its tents in the meadows of Herat. Khorrad Borzin answered the king: Compared to your host, theirs is a small army. Do not suspect that it has come with ill intent; this is only a border governor passing through. Or perhaps some seeker of renown, asking protection, has turned his face from his land toward the king, or else a merchant caravan has brought an escort along to travel safely on the road. Who would ever dare to stand against you, even if mountains and seas turned to seek revenge?

Saveh Shah grew glad at his words, and told him: 'This truly is the way.' When Khorad Borzin set off toward his home, dark night climbed swiftly up over the mountain. He made ready and prepared a path of escape, so that disaster would not fall upon him. When the night grew darker, the king ordered Faghfur to go without an army, and from his father's presence to the commander's camp came the wise young man. When he neared the army of Iran, the king's son sent a rider ahead to ask who these warriors were, and what they had assembled to gain from this raid. A rider from the Turks came like dust and shouted: 'You renowned men, who is your marshal, who leads you? Who is the famous one in battle here? For Faghfur, the eye and heart of Saveh Shah, wishes to meet him without an army.' A war seeker came out from the army and told Bahram what he had heard from him. The commander came from his royal tent, a gleaming banner raised above him, standing tall. When Faghfur of China saw him, he charged, and drove his swift horse into a sweat. He asked and said: 'Where have you ridden from? Why do you stand here now, halted? I heard you fled from Persia, that you were wronged and had shed blood.' Bahram answered: 'Never let it happen that I hold a grudge against the king of Iran. I came here to battle with an army; I marched from Baghdad by the king's command. When word of Saveh Shah's army reached that great court, he told me: go and block their road with mace and lance and sword and arrow.' When Faghfur heard this, he quickly turned back, went to his father and reported what had happened. The king heard those words and grew suspicious; at once he searched for the envoy. Someone said: 'Khorad Borzin has fled'; at the news he wept blood from his lashes. Then Saveh Shah said to his son: 'How did this treacherous man find his way in? The night is dark and the army countless; why has the scouting guard grown so slack and worthless?' After that the old man sent a message to Bahram, the sharp of tongue, saying: 'Go tell the Persian: do not vainly throw away your honor here. Surely you know this much for certain: it was your own king who sought your death. He sent you to fight against one who has no equal anywhere in the world. He told you: go and block my road; you obeyed such heartless words. If a mountain should come at me along the way, I will trample it down with elephants and army.' When Bahram heard the man's words, he laughed at how eagerly he pressed his bargain. He answered: If the king of the world secretly wishes for my death, as long as he is pleased with me, I accept it, even if I am buried under the earth. The messenger came before Saveh Shah and told him what he had heard from that seeker of battle. The shah said to him: Go tell the Persian, why must you make so much talk? Why have you come to this court? Ask of us whatever you desire. The messenger came and said to Bahram: Bring out the secret you are hiding. For this king is of good fortune; he seeks an obedient servant like you. Bahram said to him: Tell him this, if you are looking for a fight, don't hunt for excuses. If, in truth, you secretly seek peace with the king of the world, I will make you a guest in this land, and I will do whatever you say. I will grant your army silver and gold, and give a crown and belt to whoever deserves it. We will send a rider to the king so he may meet you halfway on the road. He will provide for you as for an equal, if the king's friendship favors you. But if you have come here for war, you have come to fight a crocodile in the sea. You will turn back from the plain of Herat in such a state that every great lord will weep for you. On your retreat may a pit lie before your door; may you be brought low and misfortune ride with you. Nothing but bad luck brought you here; it wanted ruin to fall on your head. The messenger turned back and came like the wind, and delivered the world-seeker's message point by point. When Saveh Shah heard his message, he flew into a rage at that famous warrior. At those cold words his heart grew tight, and his face went pale with worry. He told the messenger: Go back and carry a message to that demon of a man. Tell him: there is no glory in fighting you, nor would I gain anything by killing you. Your very king is lower than those at my gate; my humblest servants outrank you. If you should beg me for mercy, I will spare your head from this gathering. You will receive great wealth from me, and your whole army will be well provided for. With useless, mad talk, a world-conqueror does not prove his courage. The messenger of that proud man came back to Bahram again. He delivered that stinging message of his, for such words were indeed to that man's liking. When Bahram heard it, he said to the speaker: An answer to a great lord must not be withheld. Tell him: even if I am so low in rank, no shame comes upon me from being of lesser standing. The king of kings and that army do not seek a fight with you out of any care for your honor. It is because of my youth that I have been sent with an army to lay waste the host of Saveh Shah. I will cut off your head and carry it to the king; you are not worth setting on a spear along the road. One like me offering you quarter would be your disgrace; despite my youth I have set my sights on you. You will not see me except on the day of battle, with a deep blue banner behind my back. For seeing that dragon is your death; my spearhead's sheath is your head and helmet. When Saveh's envoy heard those harsh words, he turned his back and left. He came and reported all he had seen and heard; the head of the Turks' king boiled over with rage. He ordered the war drums brought out and the proud war elephants led onto the plain. The whole land went black with the dust of hooves; the bellow of the trumpets rose up. When Bahram heard the army was coming, gate and plain turned red, yellow, and black. He ordered his troops to mount; he came armored, with a mace in his hand. Behind him lay the walled city of Herat; before him stood an army of swordsmen. He arranged his right wing and his left, an army every man burning for vengeance. You would have said the whole world was iron, and the stars shone from the tips of the spears. From his side Saveh Shah looked out at the arrangement and gear of that battlefield. Herat lay at Bahram's back; his ground everywhere was cramped and unfavorable. Then he spoke to his own horsemen, his seasoned, sympathetic companions: A deceiver came to me, one of those Persians, a chief of their assembly. He stayed until that army seized the walled city, and my ground became a thornbrake. In that narrow place he drew up a line; the air turned indigo, the earth vanished. On the right wing were forty thousand troops, for whom the space to wield a dagger was cramped. Another forty thousand of brave men he set on their feet behind the army. Much of the army was also idle, trapped in that tight ground. Like a wall the elephants were brought up before the army and blocked the way. Then the heart of Saveh Shah grew grieved, for the ground had become too narrow for his host. You would have said his fortune was weeping, for his throne would soon stand empty. Once again a smooth-tongued warrior, a beguiling man from the plain of Herat, he sent to Bahram and said: the fortune of the heavens is not your match. Listen to a few words of advice: make wisdom your companion and open the eyes of your heart. You have found two men whose like no noble bloodline in the world has ever produced. They shine like the sun in the sky, and out of bravery they wear their armor all year long. One is me, the king who rules the world with justice; the other is my son, of fortunate lineage. My army is more numerous than the leaves on a tree, if any fortunate person tried to count them. If I counted my elephants and troops, you would laugh at the rain of a spring cloud by comparison. My weapons, tents, and pavilions are more than the mind can imagine. My horses and men fill the deserts and mountains; whoever tried to count them would grow exhausted. All the rulers are my inferiors, if they are even worthy of being called inferior. Even if the sea's water started to flow, or if the mountains grew feet and began to run, they could not carry off my treasure from its place; my weapons are my provision, my hardship is my glory. Except for your Persian chief, in all the world the fortunate nobles call me king. Your fate too is in my hands; this is clear before my very soul. If I bring my army down upon a place, they block the road even to the ant and the gnat. A thousand armored elephants, so fierce that any rider flees from their scent. In the land of Iran, whoever comes to face me adds no hardship to my march. From here all the way to Ctesiphon my army stretches, I think, and even beyond. Whoever deceived you, you ill starred one, that deceiver must be out of his mind. You have no love for your own life; and if you have love, it has no true face. One whose eye cannot tell good from bad, how can he deserve to be granted wisdom? Avoid this war and come over to me; I will not let you stand your ground for even a moment. I will give you a household and my daughter, and grant you honor and good fortune. You will gain high rank at my side, freed from the misery of a lowly station. When the king of Iran is killed in battle, that crown and throne of his will fall into your grasp. And then I will head off to Rome, and leave you this army, this treasure, and this land. I say this because you have pleased me and have shown yourself capable in these matters. You know how to lead a charge, and you have a rare gift; a commander is in your hands, though your father or grandfather was one. These words of mine are not mere flattery from me; I feel a place of pity for you in my heart. On this day, with such a paltry army, you have set up a battlefield against me. You will get no other message from me than this, if you turn your neck away from my wish. The messenger spoke and the commander listened, and a grim reply took shape. He answered like this: You marked man, standing among the great and the proud, A worthless ruler who talks too much has lost all his honor in everyone's eyes. From your first words and what you added after, I saw your only weapon is talk. A man whose time has run out looks for merit in fine speech instead of deeds. I heard your useless words, a heart grown fearful, terrified of harm. First you said you would kill your king and hand me his army and his throne. Someone told a fitting tale about this great man: when you drive a beggar out of the village, He never says he was only the village headman; they were all servants and I was their chief. This affair of ours will not take even two days, before the sun that lights the world blazes up again, I will scatter your blood on the tips of spears and send your head to the king of the proud. Second, you offered me your daughter, your treasure, your army, and your land. I would have been grateful to you, called you a king and a man who knows goodness, If you had given me your daughter back when you had no designs on the throne of Iran, If you had sent an adorned treasure, your daughter, and gifts, to me. Had you been a friend to Iran as I am, you would not have come to fight our brave men. Now my spear has reached your ear; I mean to cut off your head with my dagger. Once you are gone, your head, your crown, and your treasure are mine, and so is that daughter and the spoils of your struggle. Third, you said your crowns and thrones, your elephants and horsemen, are beyond counting. About this a famous man told a tale, one who twisted and turned in the line of battle: The more eagerly the dog rushes on, the farther the water slips from its reach. The demons led your heart astray, so that you came to the king demanding war. You will writhe under God's punishment, for your deeds and your evil doings. Fourth, you said the great ones with torques and crowns are lesser than me, That all the cities of the world are mine, and time itself bears witness to what I claim. The road to the cities lies open; whether a lesser man or a king walks that border matters little. If you knock on the gate of the city, as a king you will find nothing but a thornfield. Fifth, you offered gifts, out of your courage you kept your distance from me. When you see my spearhead you will pity me, and you will no longer command me as a subject. May your army have its wish and your road be yours, along with your battle elephants and your throne. Once I have drawn up my battle line, I count nothing worthwhile; I don't reckon your army worth a single coin. If you are a king who tells this many lies, you will never gain any brightness in this world. I have given the king three days, so that the world-lighting glory may show itself. They will see your severed head at that court, raised on a spear before the king. The messenger came, his two cheeks pale like Zarir's, the young man's fortune grown suddenly old. He delivered the message to Saveh Shah; when the great one heard it, his face went dark. The Faghfur said to him: what is this pleading? One must weep for such a great army. He came to the entrance of the royal pavilion and gave the order for the cymbals and the Indian bells. They should bring living elephants and war drums, and turn the sky the color of ebony. When this famous man had readied himself for war, the proud king grew full of worry. He said to his son: chosen of the army, do not fight until early dawn. The two armies withdrew to their positions, and the scouts came out from the royal pavilion. They lit fires on both sides, and the world filled with the murmur of soldiers. When Bahram was left alone in his tent, he sent word and called the Iranians together. He took counsel with the army about the battle, until the world turned black with night. The Turks and the nobles fell asleep, and the world lay open and free for the seeker of fortune. When Bahram the warrior lay down in his tent, all night his heart was wedded to the thought of battle. The lionhearted Bahram saw in a dream that the Turks grew bold against him in the fight. His whole army was broken, and every road was blocked and lost to him. He begged for mercy from the champions, left on foot, with no one to help him. He woke grieved from that sleep; his gifted mind was filled with sorrow. The dark night was wedded to pain and grief; he hid that dream and told no one. Just then Khorrad Borzin came along the road, having fled from Saveh Shah. He kept saying there was no choice but to flee from that dense army and that chaos of battle. For no one in the world sees a host greater than the one Saveh Shah commands. He said to Bahram: why are you so at ease? Look at this devilish trap. Do not give the lives of the Iranians to the wind; look justly upon these famous men. Out of courage, take pity on your own life, for such a situation has never arisen before. Bahram said to him: from your city, nothing has ever come to the world as your lot, except that they all, from first to last, sell fish, in the heat of summer and in the season of frost. Your trade is casting nets by the pond, not manhood with mace and sword and arrow. When the sun lifts its head from the dark mountain, I will show you what war with Saveh Shah means. When the sun rose from its bright spring, the world turned white as a Roman's face. The brass trumpet blared and a roar rose up; the earth seethed under the horses' hooves. He drew up the army and mounted his horse, a battle-tested mace in his hand. On the right wing they counted three thousand riders, armored and seasoned in war. To the left wing likewise he sent warlike horsemen and men hungry for vengeance. On one side stood Azar Goshasb, the servant of blessed Izad Goshasb. On his left hand was Peyda Goshasb, who could ride his horse across the sea. Behind them stood the broad-chested heroes, armed with breastplates and ancient maces. In the front line was Hamedan Goshasb, whose horse's hooves struck fire from reeds. With each of them rode three thousand heroes, warlike horsemen and battle-makers. A cry went up from the front of the army: 'You mace-bearers in golden helmets, any soldier who flees from the battle, even if a lion or a leopard confronts him, by God, I will cut his head from his body and burn his flesh and frame in fire.' On both sides of the army lay two roads, and by fleeing the way was short. He piled ten cubits of mud on both roads and stayed himself in the midst of the army. The king's great scribe, the ruler's clerk, came to the commander of the army. He said to him: 'There is no measure to this; your reckless boasting is nothing new. Look at our army on this battlefield: we are like a white hair on a black bull. In this hopeless war it will fall upon Iran; our land and country will be utterly ruined. No earth is seen, no sea, no mountain, so thick is the crowd of Turan's swordsmen.' Bahram gave out a fierce roar and said to him: 'You cowardly, luckless wretch, your business is with the inkwell and the paper. Who told you to count the army's men?' He went and told Khorad Borzin: 'Bahram has no companion but the devil.' The scribes sought a way to escape, so as not to witness the day of doom. In fear of the king and of Bahram the lion, the two scribes chose a hillock. It was a steep rise, far from the fighting, off to one side of the road of Tur's horsemen. They both went up that high road from where one could look out over the army, and fixed their eyes on Bahram's helmet, to see how he would fight in the hour of wrath. When Bahram set his fighting force in order, he came roaring out from the field of battle. He rolled in the dust before God and said: 'You who judge with justice and purity, if you see this war as unjust, and you would choose Saveh over me, then calm my heart in the fight, and grant Saveh his wish against the Iranians. But if I struggle here for your sake, and lay down my life in this war, then make me and my army glad, and through this war of ours make the world flourish.' Roaring, he mounted from that place, an ox-headed mace in his hand.

Then Saveh Shah spoke to his army: bring out your sorcery. So that the hearts and eyes of the Iranians reel, and no harm reaches you. All the wizards worked their magic, hurling fire into the air. A wind rose and a black cloud, and it rained arrows down on the army. Bahram cried out: you chieftains, you nobles of Iran and warriors. Pay no heed to these tricks of magic; charge into battle, all of you, with fury. For all of it is deceit and sorcery; over such schemers one should only weep. A roar went up from the Iranians, and they girded themselves to shed blood. Saveh Shah looked out from that battlefield and saw that the magic had gained no foothold. He led his army toward the left flank, coming on like a wolf upon a lamb. When one wing of the army was shattered, he reached his hand toward Bahram's center. Bahram looked out from that center and saw his troops fleeing ahead of the army. He came with his spear and threw three men headlong from their saddles to the ground. He said: this is how war should be; this is the custom, this is the work. Have you no shame before the God of the world, nor before the glorious, renowned lords? Then he came to the right flank, like a raging lion grown hungry. He tore through that army so completely that the commander's banner vanished from sight. From there he moved back to the center, to the side where the leader stood with his troops. He said to him: this talk will come to nothing if this battle drags on and grows old. This army will scatter in the fighting; look now and find which way to go. They set out and searched, but there was no road from which they could climb to higher ground. So he said to his army's marshal: an iron wall stands before us. Whoever knows how to breach it can pass beyond that wall. He will reach safety and carry his life back to Iran, back to the king of the brave. Set all your hearts on shedding blood; raise your shields overhead and wield your daggers. No one should despair of God, even if they see the bright day turned dark. Saveh Shah spoke to his chiefs: bring the elephants to the front of the army. Throw them into the thick of the battle; make the world dark and narrow for them. When Bahram saw the elephants from afar, he grew troubled and drew his sword from its sheath. Then he spoke to his chiefs: you renowned ones, you warriors. String your bows of Chach, and set your helmets on your heads, every one of you. By the life and head of the king of the world, chosen among the great and crown of the mighty, let everyone who carries a bow and arrow string that bow without delay. Let each arrow whose point reaches for blood drive three shafts deep into an elephant's trunk. Take aim, then draw your maces, charge into battle and cut the enemy down. The general strung his bow and set a steel helmet on his head. He rained arrows upon the elephants, drawing his bow like a spring rain cloud. Behind him came the army, and the sky went black with feathers and arrowheads. They pierced the elephants' trunks with arrows, and blood turned field and gate into a lake. Wounded that way, the elephants turned their backs and abandoned the field of battle. When each elephant felt the sting of the arrows, it trampled its own troops underfoot. The army collapsed on itself and many died; that same ill fortune stripped away their triumph. The Iranian army pressed in behind the elephants, and the ground turned into a sea like the Nile. There was a pleasant mound at that place, behind that battered, suffering army. A golden throne was set upon it, and on it sat the war-seeking Saveh. He saw an army moving like a mountain of iron, every head crowned with dust and dark rising smoke. Behind those drunken living elephants, they were pounding that army with their hands. Saveh Shah's eyes filled with tears, wondering why his army had broken and fled. He mounted a bay Arabian horse and rode off, terrified of harm and ruin. Bahram bore down on Saveh like a drunken elephant, a lasso on his arm and a bow in his hand. He said to his army: proud warriors, the mark of ill fortune has fallen upon them. This is no time for secrets or for talk; charge now with your old blades. Rain arrows down on them, fight hard and do the work of true horsemen. He climbed the mound where Saveh Shah was still seated on the golden throne, wearing his crown. He saw Bahram like a lion on his Arabian horse, galloping across the plain like a cloud. Bahram chose a straight arrow with a point like water, fitted with four eagle feathers. He worked the bow of Chach in his hand and set his thumb-ring against the deerskin grip. As he pulled the left back and bent the right straight, a cry rose from the curve of that bow of Chach. As he brought the arrow's neck to his ear, a groan rose as if from a stag's horns. When the arrowhead left his finger, it passed clean through the vertebrae of Saveh's back. Saveh's head dropped into the dust, and beneath his body the earth became a river of blood. So it ended: that famous king and all his army, his golden throne and golden crown. This is how the turning heavens behave: neither their cruelty nor their kindness is ever clear. See that you never boast of a lofty throne; even when you feel safe, keep clear of harm. When warlike Bahram reached him, he dragged him face down over the scorching earth. He cut that kingly head from its body, and no one from the enemy ranks dared face him. When the Turks came near their king, they found a headless corpse lying on the road. All at once they raised a cry; the earth was full of wailing, the air full of turmoil. The son said: this was the work of God, for fortune was wide awake for Bahram. Wherever the road narrowed for the army, many died in that tight pass. Many elephants trampled men underfoot; not one in ten of that army made it home. Some crushed to ruin beneath the elephants' feet, others with heads cut off on the battlefield. When that evil day had passed with time, no one saw a single doubter left alive. Except for those who had been taken captive, their souls worn down by grief and their bodies pierced by arrows. The whole road was strewn with horse-armor and helmets; for the chiefs, the helmet had brought the day of death. Indian swords, arrows, and bows lay scattered on every side by the beaten foe. With the slain, the ground became a sea of blood; in every corner a saddled horse still stood. Bahram went about among the troops to see which of the Persians lay dead on the road. Then he said to Khorrad Borzin: for one day, share this labor with me. Look and see which of the Persians has been killed, so we may weep for that grief. Khorrad Borzin went everywhere, passing by every screen and tent. One famous man was missing from the army, one whom they called Bahram, that man of skill. From the line of Siyavash, a champion of nobility, a commander, a rider, a valiant chief. The searcher wandered like one who has lost his senses, hoping to find some trace of him somewhere. He dragged aside many wounded and slain, but nowhere found a sign of Bahram. The commander grew heartsick at this and cried out in grief: O poor, wretched hero. After a while he appeared, like a key coming to a locked door. Beside him was a red-faced Turk with cat-like eyes; you would think his heart was wounded and full of rage. When Bahram saw Bahram, he said: may you never lie one with the dust. Then he questioned that ugly Turk: you with a hellish face, far from paradise. What kind of man are you, and what is your lineage, that your own mother should weep for you? He answered: I am a sorcerer, set apart from manliness and from ordinary men. Whoever leads an army into war, I serve him well when his situation grows desperate. At night I conjure things in dreams that make the calm and steady act in reckless haste. It was I who sent you that bad dream last night, so that misfortune would fall upon your head. I should have looked for other means, since I never got my spells to work as planned. An evil star has turned against us this way, and all our effort scattered like wind. If I could win mercy from you and keep my life, you would gain a skilled man ready at your hand. When Bahram heard this and thought it over, his heart filled with pain and his face went pale. One moment he said: on the day of battle he would serve me when my situation grew tight. The next he said: what good did sorcery bring Saveh Shah and his army in the end? All good things come from God alone; only to some does fortune smile. He ordered the man's head cut from his body, and severed the soul from that worthless frame. When they had killed him, Bahram rose to his feet and said: O just and righteous Judge, greatness, victory, and glory, high standing and the strength of kingship, sorrow and joy alike come from you; blessed is the brave man who seeks your path. After that the chief scribe came forward and said: O mighty champion, neither the hero Fereydun nor Khosrow the Just ever saw a champion like you. You have a lion's courage, majesty, and steadfast bond; may your life never suffer harm. All the land of Iran lives because of you; every champion is your servant. Through you the fortune of greatness has risen high; through you the humble gain honor. You are the commander, born of commanders; happy is the mother who bore a son like you. For you are of blessed lineage and blessed mind, the pillar of the whole realm, its lands and borders. The nobles and the army's champions scattered from the battlefield. When the dark night twisted its hair into curls, that same twisting brought sleep to every eye. The curtain of ebony appeared, and the world found rest from the drums' clamor. The wheel of heaven turned in haste, and the dark night stretched slow and long for it. A yellow ship rose from the water, washing away both weariness and sleep. The commander came and sent someone to his companions, calling them to his aid, so that every nobleman who had been killed, every Turkish chief and warrior, might be counted. Cut off the heads of every one of their chiefs, of whoever had led their assembly. Behind each severed head a bright banner, for these had been the crowned commanders of the war. He gathered all the prisoners and the heads, and they carried them away from the field of battle. He called the scribe before him and spoke at length on every subject. Of that vast and famous army, of the turnings and shifting of the age, of the strategy and the fighting, and from every angle, of where such an army had marched, and of the struggle and battle of the Iranians, when not one rider even loosened his belt to rest. When he had written that letter to the king, he chose a good speaker from among the troops. First he set Saveh's head on a spear, and the banner Saveh had carried in the battle, along with the heads of the great chiefs of the land of Turan, and likewise the banner of the Chinese riders. He ordered that on a swift mount these be carried quickly to the king of Iran, while the prisoners and all the plunder he kept safely untouched in Herat, so that whatever the king might command; he sent it along with the heads and many riders, and also so the king's order could come: whether to lead the army on to war with Parmuda. The swift mount set off from its place, with a guide leading the riders. On the other side the Turks, all stripped bare, fled without gear, horse, or baggage. They reached the land of Turan at last, the riders of the Turks and the brave men of China. When word of this reached Parmuda, he cast the crown of kingship from his head. A bitter cry rose up from the Turks; the days turned bitter for those great lords. Every head was full of dust and every eye full of tears; no one could eat, or rest, or sleep. After that he called the warriors to him, scattering the blood of his heart through his lashes. He asked why that countless army had accomplished nothing in seeking battle. The guide gave him this answer: 'We had held that army as beneath us, but when Bahram the warrior comes to the hour of action, no one in the world sees a rider like him. In the moment of war he is greater than Rostam; the brave do not dare to pause before him. His army was not a hundredth of ours, yet the least of his brave men outmatched the first of ours. The Lord who rules the world raised him high; there is no need to hear more than this from me.' When Parmuda heard his words, his heart grew heavy with worry over the matter. He seethed, his cheeks turned pale, and with a grieving heart he set his mind on marching out. He had an army of a hundred thousand fighters, all famed men fit for the field of battle. He led the army from the tents onto the open plain, drawing near to the banks of the Oxus. After that, the commander's letter came to the king of bright soul. The ruler of the world sat with his priests and said: 'You renowned and wise men, for two weeks at this great court no word has come from Bahram. What do you say may happen next? We must weigh all the possibilities.' The very moment the king spoke these words, the chief usher came in from the gate. He gave the king this good news: 'May the ruler of the world live forever, glad. Bahram has triumphed over Saveh; in battle he has become the light of the world.' The king quickly called the messenger forward and seated him above the other nobles. The messenger said: 'O exalted king, the outcome of that battlefield turned out as you wished. May you live happy and at ease, for the fortune of your ill-wisher has grown old and feeble. The head of Saveh Shah and his younger son, whose father called him Faghfur, are set upon spears, truly; the whole city gathers to gaze at that head.' When the king heard this, he rose to his feet and at once bowed himself down in worship. He stood before God and said: 'O guiding Judge, You destroyed the one who wished us ill; You are the creator of the sun and moon. I was so wretched and hopeless of fortune, until the enemy was cast down from his throne. It was not the general nor the fighting army that won this; God Himself favored this battle.' Then he brought out a hundred and thirty thousand from the treasure left by his father. A third of it he first gave to the poor, and gave the servants generous coin. Another third for the fire temple, and for the festivals of Nowruz and Sadeh, he sent so it be given to the high priest to be laid before the fire temple. The third portion for places that lay ruined, and for the inn out in the desert: so a working man might rebuild it all, and no fear or hardship remain along the road. Then he forgave four years of taxes for the poor and for those of the ivory throne. After that they wrote letters from the king to every land and every noble, that Bahram had triumphed over the army and cut off the head of the fruitless Saveh Shah. The king worshipped for seven days; on the eighth, when the world-lighting sun blazed forth, he called the commander's messenger and seated him with honor among the nobles. He wrote a fine reply to that letter, planting a tree in the garden of greatness. He also sent a silver throne, a pair of golden slippers, and gifts of every kind. From Hital all the way to the river Barak, he granted the land to Bahram and wrote out the deed. He commanded: Share this wealth among the troops, all that you brought back from the battlefield. All except the private treasure of Saveh Shah, which must be delivered to this court. After that, prepare yourself for war against Parmoodeh; do not let the enemy raise his head in pride. He sent gifts to the Iranians too, and had a decree written for every city. They dressed the messenger in robes of honor, then called for the horse of the world's champion. When the messenger reached Bahram, the commander grew glad and cheerful at the news. Then he shared the spoils among the army, all but the treasure of the foul-hearted Saveh Shah. He sent his trusted men, the worldly wise and famous among his ranks. They carried it all to the king's court, while the commander marched to war with his army. When word came of Parmoodeh, that he was seeking the imperial throne for himself, Parmoodeh held a fortress called Afraz, from which he felt safe and content. He stored there all the coin he had, gold and jewels, in every amount. Bahram crossed the Oxus with his army and came striding toward the battlefield. The two armies pressed close for battle, halting nowhere along the way. Two stages from Balkh, both armies chose two fitting places for the fight. Between the two forces lay two leagues, the width of the plain fit for battle. The next day Bahram the warrior rode out, hurrying to survey Parmoodeh's champions. He looked and saw Parmoodeh; from the flatland he chose a steep rise. He mounted his whole army upon it, until no space was left on the plain. Parmoodeh saw the army filling the plain, and was dumbfounded at the sight of them. He saw Bahram before his host, his warlike head raised to the heavens. He grew troubled and said to his men: this leader is a match for a lion. There is no counting his army; no one would take up this fight willingly. The commander is proud and wrathful; beneath him the dark earth turns to blood. When the dark night falls, we will launch a night raid, and cast fear and worry out of our hearts. When Parmoodeh returned to his tent, he weighed every kind of battle plan. He said: a night raid is one of the skills of war, even if their army now seems small. Their riders and champions are men of worth, of the highest rank among the proud warriors. The army is armed, and Bahram leads them on; before him a spearpoint is no more than a thorn or a blade of grass. Basking in his triumph, Saveh Shah grew bold and drunk on bloodshed. If the Creator of the world stands with me, I will take revenge from that mountain of malice for my father's blood. When Bahram set out to seek battle, he turned his face from Iran toward the land of the Turks.

The astrologer said to Bahram: do not take a single step on Wednesday. If you turn away from this advice, harm will find you, and all your efforts will come to nothing. There was a garden set between the armies, and on either side of it stretched the battlefield. So on Wednesday, from the early morning, he went to that garden, saying: today let us be merry. They carried in rich furnishings, wine, harps, musicians, and food. He came to that garden and drank his wine until a watch of the dark night had passed. A scout came to Parmuda and reported that Bahram was wedded to his cup and his garden. The commander picked six thousand fighters, brave men and horsemen, from his army. He sent them to surround the garden on every side, the fierce warriors moving without lamps. When Bahram learned of their doings, of the world-seeker's plan and their scheming, he said to Yalan-Sina: brave man, make a breach in the garden wall. Then Bahram and Izad-Goshasp mounted their horses along with the warriors. They slipped out through that breach in the garden, and who could tell where those bold men had gone? The blare of the trumpet rose from the gate, and the general set his foot in the stirrup. Swiftly they cut another breach and threw the enemy army into confusion, man by man. Bahram charged, javelin in hand, the way a man half drunk will do. The enemy heroes could not escape his grip; his casting hand reached out and was reddened with blood. The clash of blades and the shouts of the chiefs rose like blacksmiths' hammers falling on steel. From that garden to the place of Parmuda the king, headless bodies lay strewn along the road. When he came back to his own camp, the proud leader began to plan a night raid. When half the dark night had gone by, the fighting commander rode out onto the plain. The general led his forces toward that side; not one of the Turks' scouts saw him coming. When he drew near the battlefield, the sound of the brass trumpet rose along the way. When the boom of the war drum and the trumpet came, the fighting Turks sprang up from their places. Such an uproar rose from the army that it split the ears of the raging lion. In the darkness a wild tumult broke out on the army's left flank and its right. No one could tell one man from another, in the black night among the long spears. With their daggers they struck sparks of fire, setting earth and air ablaze. Few of the fighting Turks were left alive, and the stones turned red as coral with the blood. Their chief fled away like dust, his mouth dry and his lips gone dark as lapis. So it went until dawn broke and blazed, and the dark night pulled back its hem. The commander of Iran reached the Turks and let out a roar like an enraged lion. He said to Parmuda: You runaway man, keep away from the ranks of brave warriors. You are no man yet, boy; you are still a child. It would suit you better to be nursing at your mother's breast. Parmuda answered him: You charging lion, how long will you be so eager to spill blood? By day of battle even the leopard on land and the sea monster in the water grow sick of the blood of chiefs. You will never have your fill of human blood; I am certain you are a ravening lion. You cut off the head of Saveh Shah, who kept faith as long as the wheeling sky endures. You destroyed an army in such a way that the sun and moon took pity. I am what remains of that warrior king; know that you have laid me low with grief. We are all born from our mothers for death, whether we are Turks or free-born men. I flee and you come storming after me, but you will not catch me until my hour arrives. If I turn back with weapon in hand, either I fall or you fall in the fight. Do not be so hot-headed and fiery of temper; that is not how a great army leader should be. Now I will go back toward my own camp and seek out my own road again. I will write a letter to the king, hoping through him to be safe from fate. If he accepts me and takes me in, after this he will spare me from such struggle. I am a servant of that royal court; I have torn my heart clean away from claims of greatness. Set aside malice and war, and with kindness turn my spirit toward a feast. When Bahram heard him, he turned back, and for the king's cause his voice grew sweet. When that army rested from the fighting, Bahram's army came to Parmuda's camp. He roamed across the field of battle and cut the heads of the proud from their bodies. When they were piled upon each other, a great heap grew, rising high and wide like a mountain. That place the famous heroes each one called Bahram's Mound. The weapons of the horsemen and whatever he saw, wherever it lay, he dragged toward that mound. He wrote a letter to the king about Parmuda and the countless army. He told what had happened to them with the Turks and that battle-seeking king, how out of fear of his sword the king had sought escape and from that place had fled, wretched and homeless. And on this side the Khaqan shut himself in the fortress, sitting there amid his crowd and his worries. Many circled around the fortress gate, but no one knew how to wage war against it. Then he said: now that the battle is set in order, there is no time to delay the work. He told Yalan Sina to pick three thousand horsemen from among those warriors. And to Azargoshasb he gave four thousand of those fighters, mounting them on horses. He ordered that whoever they found, they should rush to strike his neck at once, so that the famous one might come out of the fortress when he saw the whole plain turned into a river of blood. Things stayed this way at the fortress gate for three days; on the fourth, when the world lighting sun blazed forth, he sent a message to Parmuda, that lord of the land and of a noble house: You, chief and king of the Turks of China, why did you choose this fortress out of all the world? Where is that world seeking Sava Shah now? Where are all those treasures and all that power? Where are all those elephants and their armor? Where are the great men of bright souls? Where are all those tricks and that sorcery, that now you sit apart from them all? Was the whole realm of the Turks not enough for you, when no one in the world was the equal of your father? Yet you sit on this rampart like a woman, your heart full of blood, beating your hands on your head. Open the gate and ask for quarter; seek my friendship with the king of the land. Send the treasure of gold coins out of the fortress; a man in chains has no use for wealth in this world. If you hold treasure, bring it out of the land, for to the king gold coins mean little. I am your mediator at the king's court, for I am a man of standing in the land of Iran. I will make you greatest among all the great, and better your fortune beyond your thought and wisdom. And if there is a secret hidden with you that could brighten your darkened soul, reveal that secret and tell it to me; since your fate has come to this, do not hold back. But if you keep someone at your side for war, and still hold plenty of treasure and gold, then beat the war drum and pursue these feuds; perhaps your wealth is short and your army too small. When the messenger came and delivered this message, and the ambitious man heard it from him, he answered thus: tell him, do not seek out the secret of the world as long as you can help it. You have grown insolent in the world, perhaps because your first hardship has now come to an end. Do not draw yourself up in your victory; even if you are new, the world is old. No one knows the secret of the turning heavens, and it never shows its face to us either. It is not fitting for a lord to mock; I too once had an army, elephants, and war drums. The lofty wheel of heaven tests you with falsehood; do not bind your heart to insolence. My father, that brave man who had seen the world, whom the days of battle knew well. The earth was a slave beneath his horse's hooves, and the very heavens rushed to serve him. He grasped at what he should never have reached for, and turned aside from a mistaken plan. Skill hides itself beneath regret, and the enemy laughs at the expense of a friend. And then you said the stars of the sky outnumber the rays of the sun and moon. The beasts and elephants, like blades of grass, were ground to nothing in a moment beneath the millstone. For the one whose day has turned like this, you will not remain glad or lighting up the world. Fear this fickle, turning fate, lest it brew poison as the cure for poison at your feet. For the one who makes the shedding of blood his trade, the hearts of his enemies fill with dread. They will spill his blood in the very same way that he spilled the blood of proud rebels. If you wipe out the land of the Turks, in the end they will come seeking revenge. I will not come suddenly before you, for I fear my time will come to an end. I am but a servant and you a great king; how would I make myself wretched and low before a servant of mine? Nor will I come to battle you without my army, so that a well-wisher would call me mad. If I ask protection from your king, when hardship falls upon me there is no shame in it. After that the treasury and the fortress are yours; in this renowned realm your wish is granted. The messenger came and delivered this message, and Bahram was gladdened by the news. Then they wrote a beneficial letter to the exalted, victorious king. That the Khan of China has sought protection; from my long war he has taken refuge in the fortress. A seal and a royal decree are needed, and this good news calls for a celebration: That the Khan seeks our protection, and from that high station he descends into humiliation. When the letter reached the king, he raised his lucky crown into the clouds. He sent for the Iranians and summoned them, and seated them upon the renowned royal throne. He ordered the letter read aloud, and they scattered jewels over the reader. He said to the nobles: thanks be to God; I will bow before him and keep the three watches in prayer. For the Khan of China, who was our lesser, and the lofty sky was our crown, He once raised his head to the wheel of heaven and thought himself the king of the world. Now, before a higher spirit, he is a servant, though he is a champion and seeking commander. It has come to this: that he now blesses us, the commander and chieftain of the Turks of China. Thanks be to the Lord of the sun and moon, who granted us the means to prevail. We will give the ancient treasure to the poor, once the truth of these words is made clear. You too, offer your prayers to God, and add to your good deeds in every way. He summoned the champion's envoy and spoke to him with many gracious words. He called for a belt studded with royal jewels, a horse, and a robe woven with gold. The saddle-gear on that mount was heavy with gold, its studs set with precious gems. He gave the envoy gold coins as well, a purse and many other gifts. When he handed the robe of honor to that wise man, he counted him the greatest among champions. Then he ordered the scribe to come, and they wrote a letter from him on fine silk. It said: since Parmuda, khan of the khans, is my ally, he is under Hormozd's protection. God is witness to this seal and decree: that we are his servants and he is the king. He also wrote a reply to the world-seeking hero, a letter full of hope, lovely as paradise. He told him: send Parmuda and his army away with honor to this royal court. The spoils you took from his army, and the swift loyalty you have shown, send to the court whatever is fitting; the Maker of the world is your helper. Look to any place where an enemy lies, or wherever hostility has made its nest. Seize it, guard it, and burn down its house, with good fortune and an omen that lights the world. If it happens that you need more troops, and the greater strain begins to wear on you, ask me by another letter like this one, and I will send as many soldiers as needed. And of the Iranians, all who are near you, since you have set everything right and true, record their names in this letter, so that for the hardship they endured they may be rewarded. I will give your army a march to govern; I will give you a crown and command. When the letter reached the champion, the heart of the renowned hero grew young again. He was amazed by that letter, and summoned the envoy and the Iranians. They brought forth the king's robe of honor, and everyone who saw it praised him. Whatever concerned the Iranians was written in that letter, and he showed it to them. A cheer of praise rose from the warriors, so loud you would think the earth's face shook. That famous letter of safe conduct, which came for Parmuda from the king, he sent to him at that fortress, and Parmuda's darkened soul grew bright. He came down from his renowned stronghold and called down many blessings on the king. Of all the treasure that was in the fortress, they wrote down whatever might prove useful. The proud man came down from the fortress and mounted his warhorse, sweeping in like the wind. He set out with his army from the fortress, along the road, and paid no attention at all to Bahram the hero. When Bahram saw this, shame took hold of him, even though a king had fallen into his grasp. He sent men who at once pulled him down from the road and brought him on foot before the army. Parmuda spoke to him: 'Once I held my head high in every gathering. Now I am reduced to begging for my life; from high honor I have fallen into disgrace. You are no happier than I am on this day of mine, you evil man of evil deeds, who now stands before me. Now I have received a promise of safe conduct; I intend to go before the king. Perhaps he will treat me like a brother, and the pain he brings me will grow lighter. What business have you with me any longer? I have surrendered to you the royal throne and all my wealth.'

Bahram flared up and grew brazen; the insulting talk drove him to rage. In his fury he struck a lash, the way such foul-mouthed men deserve. At once they bound the man's feet, and a cramped tent became his prison. When Khorrad Borzin saw this, he said: this commander has no equal in folly. He went to the chief scribe and told him: this overbearing commander has not the sense of a gnat's wing, for he counts no one as anyone at all. We must tell him there is no remedy for this; nothing is more monstrous for him than his anger. The two men went to Bahram, tongues stumbling and faces pale as lapis. They said: you have thrown this ordeal to the wind; may your famous head never be full of fire. Bahram knew that what he had done was ugly; he set the matter down, and the raw brick softened. He grew ashamed and undid the man's bonds, clutching his own head over what he had done. He sent a horse with a golden saddle, and an Indian sword in a golden sheath. At once he went to the man's side, to brighten his darkened spirit. He stayed until the man girded himself and mounted a swift steed. The commander rode along the road with him, and saw that the king's face was not glad. At the moment of farewell he said: you hold a grievance against me in secret. If you carry it, do not speak of it to Iran's king; you would lose your standing before him. The Khaqan said: my complaint is against fate, and I have left it in God's hands. I am not one of those who dwells on every man's words and wants to keep repeating them. If your sovereign learns of this, no greatness would suit him for it. The turning wheel of heaven bound me; I will not say a servant did me wrong. At his words Bahram turned pale; he twisted with feeling and swallowed his warrior's anger. He answered thus: the sign has come true of what that leader of the proud once said, that you should not sow the seed of evil while you can, for what you sow, time will yield back to you. Bahram said to him: honored seeker of fame, do not speak such words while you can help it. Why did I open my heart to you, and wish you well in this world? I wrote a letter about you to the king of the world, and kept your faults hidden. The Khaqan said: that wrong is past; the words that passed have all turned to wind. But just as there is disgrace in war, in peacetime there is patience. If anger and peace are all one to you, then without doubt you have little wisdom. When a commander takes hold of his lord's path, he does not rush headlong into every task. He must follow the way of God, and wipe all darkness from his heart. If you add no more words now, that is fine, for what evil happened has already gone with the wind. When Bahram heard this from the Khaqan he said: 'I thought that grudge would stay hidden.' 'Now if harm comes from that offense, I will not throw a silken veil over it.' 'When you arrive there, say whatever must be said; my honor will not be lessened by it.' The Khaqan said to him: 'Any ruler who does not weigh good against bad, and stays silent when a servant does wrong, know that in my eyes he is a fool. Whether from afar he sees an ill-wisher, or a friend, or one who is his equal, he called you unworthy and light-headed, though you are the Shah of Iran, and he a narrow mind.' Bahram boiled with rage and his face went pale; Khorrad-Borzin watched him closely. He feared that fierce, bloodthirsty man, lest he blow the offender away like dust on the wind. He said to Bahram: 'O you worthy of the throne, swallow your anger and turn your mind from this course. The Khaqan speaks the truth; listen, and do not let evil thoughts take hold. Had the words not been said so coldly, your heart would not be so full of hurt and pain.' Bahram said to him: 'This vile, worthless man is digging for the dust and blood of my father.' The Khaqan said: 'Do not do this; greatness grows old and worn through rashness. In this world, anyone who is like you has his head full of dust and his heart full of smoke. He plotted only evil, got along with no one, and raised his head in crookedness and folly. We fear the King of Kings; from him our toil and our ease alike are fitting. Among the proud, he is my equal, not like a servant who wishes me ill. Wise, patient, and of noble birth, he keeps many a famous man in mind. By the life and head of the Shah of Iran's army, turn back now from here onto the road. Do not add to your reply in anger, and say nothing until you have heard.' When Bahram heard this, he turned back; the warrior came to the army's camp. Along with Khorrad-Borzin and the wise men, the great scribe and the other Zoroastrian priests, they wrote a letter to the king of the world, setting down every matter, open and hidden. The commander, with the chief priest, then said in anger: 'O you wise ones, go now from here into the fortress; strive, and move as swift as the wind. See what wealth lies within that fortress, how great a treasure has been gathered there.' The scribes went to work with anxious hearts, from dawn until three watches of the night had passed. Much ink was spent on the reckoning, yet even at the end the accounting was not finished. There was no way into that treasure of the fortress; two years had gone by, and still it was not depleted. From the days of Arjasp and Afrasiab, gold and gems that rise from the water, and everything drawn from the mines, and whatever grew beneath the sky, all the treasures were gathered there, the wealth whose fame had spread through the world. Among Siavash's belongings, first a belt, and set with rubies, three bracelets of jewels. And his earrings, whose like no one in the world possessed, neither the lowly nor the great. Kaykhosrow had given them to Lohrasp, and Lohrasp then passed them on to Goshtasp. Then Arjasp placed them in that fortress; no one remembers the time of that man. No one in the world could count it all, neither the stargazers nor the fortunate nobles. They wrote down one by one every treasure that lay adorned within that hoard. Bahram sent a man, a scribe: eloquent, clear of mind, with a good memory. He came and gathered up all the wealth that was in the fortress and won on the field of battle. Among the treasure were two earrings and two boots studded with jewels. There was gold thread woven through them, the tips of the threads twisted around with gems. Two Yemeni robes, all woven with gold; each weighed, they came to seven maunds. Out of nobility and valor, the commander gave no thought to seeking any claim for himself. He set the two Yemeni robes aside and made no mention of the two boots in his letter. Then he ordered Pidagoshasp to mount his horse and ride with the horsemen. He chose a thousand men from the army to go with him to the king. He asked the Khaqan for ten caravans of camels, and counted the whole load then for the camel driver. The horsemen behind, the Khaqan ahead, he rode on with his own renowned men. When the Khaqan came near to the king, with the ancient treasure and with his army, when the king of the world heard, he mounted, a crown on his head and a mace in his hand. He came on until he reached the gate, and from the entrance hall he saw the Khaqan's face. He waited to see how the Khaqan would meet him on the road: whether he would dismount just so, along with his army, whether he would see him and turn back from before him; the glory seeking king was lost in thought over this. Then the Khaqan, still upon his horse, together with his own priest, Pidagoshasp, the Khaqan dismounted from his horse and came rushing forward to the king of Iran. There was a pause, until the world ruling king mounted a black Arabian horse. The great king spurred his swift steed on and lingered a while with him in the passage. When the Khaqan left the king's door, the chamberlain took hold of his reins. Parmuda quickly dismounted from his horse and showed his cleverness to that lesser man. The king himself, on foot, took his hand and led him to his seat. He came strolling near to the throne, and the great king welcomed him warmly. He asked after him and seated him at his side; they spoke of many things, more than words can hold. They prepared a place worthy of him and cleared out a bright and pleasant hall. They brought whatever was fitting, and what was needed for Parmuda's comfort. He set the troops in quarters near him and appointed a scribe to that task. When he learned of the matter of the treasures that Parmuda had brought, all finely arrayed, he sent word to the field, so that likewise the precious loads be carried off with the camel driver. When Parmuda had rested from the hardship of the road, on the eighth day the king ordered a feast. When the Khaqan came before the world ruling king, they sat at his table in the place of honor. He commanded that the loads of those camels be brought forward and set before the chiefs. Someone kept count of the hauling: in a single day the porters numbered a hundred thousand. The next day too, early in the morning, the king came to the table and sat down. They carried fifty thousand from the field, borne in packs on the backs of the working men. From what was brought, a hundred treasuries were filled, and the king's heart was set at ease by it. The king ordered a throne heaped with robes to be brought from there before the army. And also a belt set with royal jewels whose worth could not be reckoned. A cheer of praise rose from the banquet hall: may this world ruling king be victorious. Then the king spoke to Ayin Goshasp, with whom he shared both the open and the hidden, saying: how do you see this deed of Chubina? He has bravely turned his grudge into action. The scribe Ayin Goshasp replied: O king of bright heart and retentive mind, know that a feast whose master is Chubina spreads a table of new fashion. The king grew suspicious at his words, and for a while his mind was filled with worry. Just then a great courier arrived with a letter from the chief scribe. It read: may the king of the world be forever glad, and may all his deeds be generosity and justice. Know that he carried off two Yemeni swords and all the boots inlaid with flawless jewels. It is like the earring of Siavash, that noble king, from whom wisdom remains as our inheritance. Of these four, he took two champions; since he saw the hardship, this is no wonder. Then the glory-seeker asked Shahak: 'Tell me one by one all that you saw.' Shahak spoke in this manner, and that proud king grew enraged. At once he said: Chubineh is losing his way; his head is rising to the moon. For one thing, he struck the Khaqan of China, in the way that befits a man of low birth. For another, when his earring served its purpose, he became like a king himself. All his toil turned to wind, and all his justice turned to injustice. He said this and called Parmudeh forward, and seated him in that honored place before him. They stayed and feasted until night scattered its dark black tresses over the road. He said to the Khaqan of China: 'For my sake you have suffered much trouble from my land.' Seated, he reached out and took his hand, and Parmudeh was left in astonishment. He said to him: 'Renew our oath, and set this matter on a new measure.' They swore heavy oaths, by pure God and by the lives of the chiefs, That he would not turn away in heart from the Khaqan king, nor let anything break their bond, By the throne and the crown, by the sun and the moon, by the fire of Gushasp and the sheltering fire, By God who is higher than the highest, the painter of Venus and Jupiter, That when you return, you will not turn against me, nor against the great ones of this gathering. They spoke, and rose from their places, and prepared to go to their resting quarters. When the sun lifted its head from the yellow mountains, the crowned lords awoke from sleep. The king had prepared a robe of honor, of gold and silver, with a horse and a cap. The king sent it to the Khaqan, and traveled two stages of the road with him. On the third stage he did not go the long way; he sent his farewell and turned back from him. When word reached the champion of that robe of honor from the king of the world, And of the Khaqan of China, who had returned from the king so gladly and set out on the road, The mounted champion went to meet him, along with every man of renown from Iran. He prepared provisions wherever the Khaqan passed, in the town, at the way stations, and over mountain and plain. He came before him offering apologies, his ill-wishing soul now full of shame. When he saw Parmudeh he offered praise, but the Khaqan of China turned his head away. He accepted nothing of what had been brought, whether it was provisions, a purse of gold, or captives. Bahram rode along the road beside him, but the Khan never once looked his way. So he traveled three stops in this manner, and in one whole day Parmuda did not call him near. On the fourth day the Khan sent someone: 'Turn back now, you have seen enough hardship.' When Bahram heard this, he turned away from him and headed swiftly toward Balkh. For a while he stayed in Balkh, downcast, regretful of what he had done, his heart full of grief. The king too was not pleased with him; his soul was clouded with smoke over Bahram's rashness. First, for having offended the Khan of China, when Bahram deliberately provoked him; And second, for boldly seizing something he had never been given leave to take. So the monarch wrote a letter to Bahram: 'You quarrelsome demon, you no longer know your own place; you think yourself beyond the need of the great.' 'You do not see your gifts as coming from God; you fancy yourself seated on the wheel of heaven.' 'You have turned your neck from my command and set about a wholly different scheme.' 'You do not recall my labors, my army, my efforts, and my treasure.' 'You do not keep to the ways of champions; you lift your head to the sky.' 'Now a robe of honor has come that suits you well, one fitting and proper for your deeds.' When he set the king's seal upon the letter, he ordered that two black spinning-women be brought, with distaff and cotton, everything about them coarse in look and smell. Then a shirt of azure cloth, a red veil, and yellow trousers. He chose a proud messenger, one fit to carry that unfit robe of honor. He told him: 'Take this before Bahram and say: You worthless, talentless man, you dare to bind the Khan of China; you take pleasure in wounding the great.' 'I will drag you down from the seat you hold, and from now on I will count you as nothing.' The messenger came with the robe like the wind and repeated all he had heard. When Bahram saw the letter and the robe, he chose patience and silence. He said: 'So this is my reward, for all the battles I fought for the king.' 'This does not come from the king's own mind; it is nothing but the slander of an enemy, who makes him send me such a robe, so that every assembly may see it.' 'The world's ruler is master over his servants; if he holds me cheap, it is his right.' 'I never imagined that near the king ill-wishers could find so quick a path.' 'But since Hormuz has scorned me, he has acted on the words of devils.' For the king of the world to act like this: it does not befit a man of wisdom. After I set out in haste from the king's court with only a meager army, everyone has seen what I did, the grief, the toil, and the hardship I endured. If the reward for that suffering is contempt, then fortune has turned against me. I will complain to God about the turning heavens, that they cut off their kindness from me so completely. He gave thanks to the Creator's generous goodness, then put on garments of red and gold. Before him he set a black chest holding everything the king had sent him. He ordered that everyone among the great ones, those famous nobles of the world's king, should come from the army to his side, though his darkened heart was full of worry. When old and young came and saw the champion dressed in such a way, they were all astonished at the sight, and each heart took up its own thought. Then the champion said to the army: this is the robe of honor the king has sent me. The king rules the world and we are his servants; our hearts and souls are filled with love for him. What do you onlookers make of this? What shall we say to the king of the earth? In answer they all spoke at once: O renowned and gifted champion, if this is your worth in the king's eyes, then his army are mere dogs at his court. See what that wise old man said at Ray, when his heart grew bitter toward Ardashir: a head full of grudge, a heart full of pain, tongue and soul brimming with cold words. He came raging to Istakhr in Pars, for Istakhr was the pride of the land of Pars, saying: I am done with the throne and the king's crown, since he takes no notice of my good and ill. Bahram said to him: do not speak of grudge; it is from the king that an army gains its honor. We are all, every one of us, his servants; he is the giver and we are his petitioners. This was the answer he got from the Iranians: from now on we will not gird ourselves for him. In Iran no one will call him king, nor call Bahram commander of the army. They said this and went out from his presence, from the royal palace out to the open plain. The general kept giving advice to the troops, and with his advice he kept his lips sealed. So it went until two weeks had passed, and the general came from his hall out to the plain. A thicket came before him full of trees, fit for a fortunate lover of wine. He saw a wild ass in that meadow, lovelier than any painted beauty one could see. Then Bahram rode gently after it, not once spurring his mount to a gallop. There in that hunting ground within the forest, a narrow path appeared ahead of him. When the fierce wild ass had passed through the narrow pass, open desert, meadow, and plain came into view. Bahram striding on and the wild ass racing off, the sun scorching that plain with its heat.

From that plain the hero Bahram looked out, and a splendid palace came into view. Bahram turned his face toward that palace, with the wild ass leading the way ahead. He rode his horse up to the palace, while Izad Goshasb followed at his back. He handed him the swift horse's reins and said: 'May wisdom always be your companion.' On foot, through the palace corridor, Bahram walked in without any guide. For a while Izad Goshasb stood at the door, holding that precious horse by the hand. Yalan Sineh came running after him, girded and ready on his swift horse. The bold Izad Goshasb said to him: 'You, gifted and renowned as a lion, go and see where our commander went, our famous heroic general.' Yalan Sineh turned his face into the palace, his heart full of worry, searching for the chief. He saw a blessed arch and hall, the like of which he had never seen or heard of in Iran. In its hall stood a throne of gold, with a gem set into every step. Upon that throne was a carpet of Roman brocade, all its patterns of jewels and gold ground. A crowned woman sat upon it, tall as a cypress, her face like spring. On the golden throne, at a lower seat, the army's commander sat. Many attendants stood around the throne, fairy-faced beauties of shining fortune. When the woman saw Yalan Sineh, she said to an attendant: 'You, lovely one, go quickly and tell that lion-heart that there is no place for you to come here. Stay close to your own companions; Bahram will come back to you right now. Deliver this message to him from Bahram, and ease his heart into turning back.' At once she sent the attendants on their way out from the hall toward the army, so they might take the heroes' horses to the stable, fill the mangers and count every saddle. The gardener opened the garden gate by her command, to prepare the host's welcome. A man devoted to serving the great came into the garden, prayer-sticks and rites in hand. They set a table around the garden, and prepared more food than could be imagined. When the meal was done, they brought the proud men's horses at a trot back to their marked place. As Bahram turned to leave, he said to the woman: 'May the planet Jupiter be a companion to your crown.' She said to him: 'Be victorious, man; keep a patient heart and sound judgment.' When Bahram came out from that palace, you would think blood rained from his eyes. His spirit was transformed, his answers changed; you would think he raised his head up to the Pleiades. He came right on the trail of the wild ass, the commander driving his chestnut horse close behind. So it went until they came out of that thicket, the creature all the while serving as Bahram's guide. The hunting ground led into a city, and at that sight he opened his lips to speak to the troops. Khorrad Borzin looked at him and said, 'O chief, tell me the truth:' 'What was this wonder on the hunting ground, something no one has ever seen or heard of?' The commander gave him no answer at all; grim of mood, he turned his face toward the palace. The next day, when the meadow turned silver and that yellow, gleaming lamp of dawn appeared, he spread out a carpet of Chinese brocade; you would have said the sky had become the earth. Throughout the palace he set golden thrones and placed cushions of gold-woven silk. They set down a golden dais, and the army's commander took his seat upon it. He arranged a royal seat like a king of kings, placing the crown of majesty on his head. The great scribe watched what he was doing and understood that he had grown bold and haughty. When he came near Khorrad Borzin, he told all that he knew, saw, and heard. When Khorrad Borzin heard these words, he knew those old troubles had come alive again. Then he said to the esteemed scribe, 'Do not take a matter like this lightly.' 'You must not open your lips about this affair; we must go to the king in the dark of night.' When Bahram's heart filled with thoughts of the crown, and the ivory throne rose beneath him, they weighed every kind of plan in the matter, and the only remedy proved to be flight. When they settled on the color of escape, in the dark night they fled from Balkh. When the commander learned of their doing, of the bright, wakeful souls that had slipped away, he told Yalan Sineh, with a hundred riders, 'Ride after these two reckless fools.' He set off from there swift as dust, with him the brave men of the day of battle. He rode on until he reached the great scribe, and flew into a rage like a wolf. He seized from him all that he had, and turned him back from the road in heavy chains. He brought him along the road to Bahram, so as to destroy an innocent man. Bahram said to him, 'You demon-schemer, why did you leave my presence without permission?' He answered thus: 'O commander, it was Khorrad Borzin who unsettled me.' 'He kept saying there was no staying here, that your lingering served nothing but the slanderer's wish.' 'For me and for you there was the fear of death; our only hope was to turn back from here.' When they had brought the army's commander to Bahram, his dignity was shamed within that court. Bahram said to him: this could happen; one must weigh both the good and the bad. He returned all the losses the man had suffered, and gave him much more from his own treasure. Then he told him: guard your own affairs carefully, and never again take flight. From this side, Khorrad-Borzin rode in secret, galloping toward the king of the world. He told him everything that had to be told, and unlocked all the hidden secrets. So, point by point, he recounted to the king all that had happened in that woodland and meadow. The chase of the wild ass, the narrow trail, Bahram's lingering, and all that delay. The palace inlaid with jewels, the attendants, and the crowned woman. One by one he told what he had seen, and everything else he had asked about. The crowned king was left astonished; whatever he heard, he took to heart. When the priest's words came back to his mind, a cold sigh rose from within his chest. And also the words of that fortune teller, who had said Bahram would turn his face from your throne. At once the king summoned the chief priest and seated him in Khorrad-Borzin's place. The king said to Khorrad-Borzin: open your lips and tell me what you saw on the road. At Hormoz's command he began to speak, recalling every detail one by one. The king said to him: what could this mean? Every possible reading must be considered. A wild ass in the woodland served as a guide, and a dwelling stood in the barren wasteland. On a golden throne sat a crowned figure, with royal servants standing before her. This tale is like a dream, the sort that is read from the words of the ancients. The priest said to the king of the world: that wild ass was secretly a demon. Since it lured Bahram away from the true path, a flaw appeared in his heart. Know that palace to be a den of sorcery, and on that throne an ungrateful witch. who displayed such grandeur to Bahram, and showed him that crown and throne of greatness. When he turned away, he grew proud and drunk with it; know that such power will never truly fall into his hands. Now devise some plan to bring that army from Balkh back toward this court. The king came to regret the two spindles, that cotton and the worthless cloth. Not much time had passed before a rider came from the commander. He carried a basket full of daggers, each with its blade turned point upward. He brought it and set it down before the king, and the king kept staring at the iron. He ordered the blades to be broken and thrown into that worthless basket. He sent word back to Bahram again, long speeches full of war and challenge. He cut the matter cleanly in two and set it aside; the man, his mind turned sour, fell deep into thought. He sent for the Iranians and called them, seating them all around that basket. He said: this is the king's gift; look at it, and do not treat it lightly. The army fell into thought over the king's deed, and over what that army's chief had said. For one day our king's gift was a spindle and that embroidered gown. Another time it was a broken dagger, worse than any wound or insult. May such a king never sit upon the throne, nor anyone who would even remember him. And if Bahram son of Goshasp should set his horse's hoof on that court's ground, may neither Bahram's marrow nor his skin remain, nor that cheap coin that Bahram springs from. When the commander heard their words, he saw the army's heart wounded by the crowned one. Then the chief spoke to the army: be watchful, and keep your minds clear. For Khorrad Borzin laid our hidden words bare before the king. Now, each of you, find a way to save your lives; all of you, make a pact with me today. Perhaps I will send someone from the army out on the road, so they may keep watch over us. Otherwise, consider my day already turned dark, and count the whole army, man by man, as slain. He said this, then took up another plan; watch now, and you will stay amazed. He scattered riders across the land, hoping the king's letter might come. So it would reach the Iranians and they could put an end to strife and enmity. A stretch of time passed like this too, but no one delivered the king's letter. After that he summoned the nobles and shared many secrets with them. There was Hamdan Goshasp and the great scribe, and Yalan Sineh, that mighty renowned man. There was Bahram the hero of Siyavash's line, and Peyda Goshasp, wise and generous. He took counsel with such great men, who were lions, warriors all. Then the army's chief spoke to that host that had lost its swift path. He said: proud and renowned men, everyone stands in need of you. Our king has been wounded by us though guiltless, and so he has turned away from custom and the right path. What will you devise, and what is the cure for this? We must not have to weep over the wounded man. Whoever hides his pain from the doctor pours bloody tears down from his lashes. If we hide our secret from those who know, the task will drag on long and hard for us. Now we are the wounded ones of this world; let us tell all our secrets, in full, to one who understands. We came out from Iran seeking vengeance, with this modest army, by the king's command. No one will ever see a greater army, however long the world endures. If Parmuda the warrior, together with King Saveh, had marched their host toward Iran, Iran would not have been worth a single ball of wax; and after that they had their sights set on Rome. Such a fate befell Parmuda and King Saveh as no one in the world has ever seen for its strangeness. Though we endured much hardship, afterward we were left with neither elephant nor treasure. Anew the king laid up a treasure; he grew rich, and the army fell into turmoil. Now how do we find a way out of his snare, so we may slip our heads free of the bonds with ease? The king of kings has arranged his schemes and settled this matter without effort or trouble to himself. Each of you, find a way to save your own life; with this affliction, decide what cure to seek. I have emptied my heart of secrets; out of grief I am tearing myself away from life. Behind the veil of the famed champion there was a sister, bright of soul. The wise woman's name was Gordiyeh; she was Bahram's comfort and his closest confidante. When she heard her brother's words from behind the veil, she flared up and her heart boiled with resentment. She entered that gathering, her head full of speech, her tongue full of the old, wise sayings. When the brother heard his sister's voice, he fell silent, ceasing his talk and his replies. Likewise the Iranians, one and all, held back their words for fear of harm. Then Gordiyeh spoke to the army: 'O renowned men, seekers of the right way, why have you fallen silent, keeping your words in? Why have you poured out blood from your hearts like this? You are the chiefs of Iran, its warriors, wise and knowing and cunning in strategy. What do you all foresee in this affair? What move will you make on this field of blood?' Then Izad Goshasp the rider said: 'O keepsake of noble ancestors, even if our tongues became swords, they would flee before the sea of your wisdom. All your deeds are divine, born of courage, of knowledge, and of good sense. We should not adopt the temper of a leopard, ready to pick a fight with everyone we meet. Seek no further word from me on this; my answer in this matter has reached its end. If you choose war, we will lend our aid; before the horsemen we will ride as horsemen. So long as the champion is pleased with me, I feel as if I will stay forever young.' When Bahram heard his words, he saw that his conduct was that of a mediator. Then he turned to Yalan Sineh and said: what thoughts are you keeping hidden now? Yalan Sineh said: brave commander, whoever walks the path of God, when he wins victory and divine glory, he never rushes toward evil, for then the blessing turns into a curse, and the turning wheel of fate fills with spite against him. Since God gave you glory and fortune, an entire army, a treasury, a crown and a throne, if you seek yet more from Him, your heart will bleed with ingratitude. After that Bahram said to Bahram: you who are the companion of wisdom, wedded to good judgment, what do you say? Is chasing this throne and treasure worth the greatness in the end, or is it only pain and toil? Bahram laughed at that debate, and then he tossed a ring into the air. He said: for as long as this ring hangs in the air, a servant becomes a king. He told him: do not think this is any small matter, for a crown cannot be counted a trifle. Then he spoke this way to Pida Goshasb: you swordsman, lion who spurs his horse into battle, what do you see, what do you say about this affair of ours? Is the seat of kingship fitting for us? The horseman Pida Goshasb answered: you who are a living memory of the world's great heroes, a certain priest once told this parable: any man who was wise and far-sighted, if he rules as king for even one moment and then his soul flies up to heaven, that is better than serving as a slave for long years, carrying his needs to the treasury of the world's lord. Then he said to the great scribe: open your lips now, you old wolf. The great scribe fell silent for a while and sank into a crowd of thoughts. Then he spoke to Bahram this way: whoever goes seeking his desire, if he seeks what suits him, he will find it, for the hand of time is long and reaching. Know this: whatever the just one grants, effort must still be brought to bear to earn it. Then he spoke again to Hamdan Goshasb: you who have known the ups and downs of life, whatever words you speak to another's face turn to wind, and the deeds behind them come to nothing. Say what you know about this matter, of the good and the bad within these times. The lofty Hamdan Goshasb said: you who are honored among noble men, you fear what has not yet come to pass; why do you keep asking about the crowns of kings? Do your work and leave what is done to God. Why reach for the date if you fear the thorn? The leader of men will find no easy comfort; it is all peril to his life and hardship to his body. At their words the hero's sister sat there writhing, her spirit darkened. No one spoke a word about that dispute, from the setting of the sun until midnight. Bahram said to her: 'You of pure soul, what do you make of what this gathering has said?' Gordiyeh gave him no answer, for she was not pleased by the counsel of those nobles. She spoke this way to the great scribe: 'You schemer of evil, cunning as an old wolf, you imagine that this crown and throne mean a great army and a triumphant fortune. None of those noble, free spirited men ever longed for such things in this world. If you think kingship is easier than servitude, you should weep over such wisdom of yours. Let us follow the way of the kings of old, and listen to the words of those greater than us.' The scribe answered her: 'If my counsel finds no place with you, then say and do whatever seems right to you; go the way your heart guides you.' His sister too spoke to Bahram about those willful, self serving riders: 'This knowledge and counsel of yours is not good; your feet are walking a crooked path. Often the king's throne sat empty, yet no lesser man ever cast a glance at it. They guarded the world with bravery, but fixed no covetous eye upon the throne. Every wise man of pure mind who turned over all kinds of fine thoughts knows that kingship is better than servitude, and that pride is better than being cast down. Yet those Kayanid heroes did not reach out for the throne; all wore the belt of service tight at their waists. They bound themselves and sought only good from their kings, and made their hearts ready to obey his command. No stranger was worthy of the crown; only one of true lineage deserved such greatness. Let me start first with King Kavus, who tried to search out the very path of God, who counted the stars in the sky and thought he could break through the arch of the turning heavens. In the end he fell into misery, humiliation, and disgrace, all from his crooked thinking and ill nature.'

Both Gudarz and Rostam the champion wore out their souls with hardship over this. After that, wherever he went in Hamavaran, they bound his feet with heavy chains. No one set his heart on this royal throne; none took on that grief and burden but them. When the Iranians said to Rostam that he was worthy of the throne of kings, He shouted at the one who spoke: 'May you be wedded to a narrow grave!' A champion belongs beside the king; they sat in proper order, with clear conscience. 'Am I to have a golden throne and a captive king? Never such a thought, never such a crown for me!' From Iran he chose twelve thousand world-conquering, armor-clad horsemen. He freed Kavus from his bonds, and Giv and Gudarz and Tus as well. When King Piruz was slain, everything turned against the Iranians. That Khoshnavaz grew bold from this turn of events and settled at ease upon the throne of pride. Then Sufaray, the son of Qaren, set out to bring the crown of kingship back to its place. When word of his victory arrived, the proud chieftains came out from Iran To hail him as king, so that a lesser man might become the ruler of the earth. He told the Iranians: 'This is not fitting; greatness and the crown belong to the true king.' 'Though Qobad is a child, he will grow great; we will not let a wolf into the lion's thicket.' 'If you want to make one without lineage a king, you will scatter the whole royal house to the wind.' When Qobad came of age and reached manhood, he saw Sufaray's head reaching for the crown. On the words of evil-natured men he killed him, though he had been the backbone of his kingship. After that they bound the feet of Qobad, a bold rider of noble race. He handed him over to Zarmehr, a man of skill, so he might one day seek revenge for his father. Zarmehr looked around and saw no one worthy of sitting crowned upon the royal throne. When Zarmehr gave his love to the king, the wheeling heavens sang his praise. He struck off his bonds, so the king might pursue his own aims and make his cause thrive. No servant has ever sought the crown, however pure and true his lineage might be. From among the Turks a famous Saveh-Shah came forth to seize the royal signet and crown. The bright Creator of the world willed that he should perish in the land of Iran. 'Why did you crave the imperial throne after you had been only a servant?' Yalan-Sineh keeps spurring his horse on, saying, 'So that I, over Bahram son of Goshasp, May reign anew as king in the world and leave my own name as a lasting memorial.' A wise king like Nushirvan would make even a man's old age young again through Hormoz. The great ones of the land stand behind him, whether they are lords or lesser men. In Iran there are three hundred thousand horsemen, all champions, all men of fame. Every one of them is a servant to the king, their heads bowed to his command and counsel. The King of Kings of the world chose you, as befitted the way of famous men. He gave your ancestors this same renown, and in the end let them triumph over their enemies. If you repay that kindness with evil, know that you do the evil to yourself. Do not set greed as a king over reason, for the wise will not call you pure and just. If I give advice and offer a brave man's counsel, I am many years younger than your brother. Do not throw the work of your ancestors to the wind, or one day my advice may come back to haunt you. The whole gathering was struck with wonder; the commander bit his lip in astonishment. He knew she spoke the truth, that she sought nothing but the path of goodness. Yalan Sineh said, 'Noble woman, do not speak of kings' counsel in this assembly.' For Hormoz will not last much longer, and the commander will reap the throne of majesty. This is the news about Hormoz: count your brother as king of Iran. If he takes no pride in the royal crown, why then would he weave his honor from a spindle? Enough talk of Hormoz, born of Turkish stock; may that lineage never exist in this world. If you reckon back from Kay Qobad, this line stretches a hundred thousand years. They who sat crowned on golden thrones, their name is finished now, so speak it no more. Do not think anymore of Khosrow Parviz either, for remembering him is worth nothing. The most privileged men at his court are lesser servants beneath your brother. When Bahram gives the word to those lesser men, they will bind Khosrow's feet in heavy chains. Gordiyeh said to him, 'You devil's tool, a demon is secretly setting a trap for you all.' 'Do not wrong our lives and our house, for from you I see only empty wind and bluster.' 'Our father was the frontier lord of Rey; you began this hunt for the throne.' 'When you stir Bahram's heart to boiling, you bring my whole family to grief.' 'The struggle of our line will turn to wind through your words, you baseborn lesser man.' 'Now go, be Bahram's guide, and fill the feast and the peace with turmoil.' She said this and went home weeping, her heart now a stranger to her brother. Everyone kept saying that this pure woman was eloquent, bright of heart, and wise in counsel. You would say his words came straight from a book; in wisdom he was more famous than Jamasp. When this did not please Bahram, he sat there miserable at his sister's words. His dark heart, tangled in far-fetched schemes, kept showing him the royal throne in his dreams. Then he said: this fleeting inn of a world, those who seek it find nothing but hardship. He ordered a feast laid out, and called for wine, music, and singers. He told a musician: today tune your lute and prepare a heroic song. We will sing only of the tale of the Seven Trials; over that we will sip a little wine. Of how Esfandiar took the Brass Fortress, and what feats he performed in those days. In his memory they drank cup after cup: may the land of Ray flourish. For from that soil rises a commander like you; may God create more men like you. When the night grew dark they scattered; the drinkers' heads were dizzy with wine. When the sun raised its high lance, the dark night grew faint before its banner. The great and mighty commander Bahram summoned the chief scribe. They wrote to the Khaqan a letter fine as a Mani painting, full of fragrance, color, and ornament. Apologizing, he said: I am in pain, my heart full of regret and cold sighs. From now on I will guard your land and borders for the sake of your honor. If I become the pure lord of the world, I will be to you like a younger brother. You must wash your heart clean of hatred, and no longer keep Iran apart from China. When that was done he made other plans, and reopened the gathered treasure. He gave the army silver, horses, and servants, while secretly seeking the seat of greatness. From the army he chose a commander worthy to rule the land of Khorasan. Full of thought, he set out from Balkh toward Ray, on the blessed day of Khordad in the month of Dey. He kept weighing matters, more and less, then ordered a mint be built. So they might make fresh coins and stamp the silver with the name of Khosrow. From among the merchants he picked one of clear mind, eloquent and fit for delicate work. He ordered those stamped coins carried in sacks to Ctesiphon. Bring precious Roman brocade whose figures were silk and whose ground was gold. Buy it, so those coins may be taken before the king, and he may see the seal upon them. He called a messenger, modest and keen, brave, like a blessed angel. He wrote a letter swiftly, with fire and breath, speaking of every matter, great and small. About Parmuda and the army of Saveh Shah, and the battle he had fought against the troops, and about the robe of honor that came to him from the king, the headscarf and the black distaff case. After that he said: May I never in my dreams see the king's face crowned with glory and grace. The moment Khosrow takes the throne, that noble, fortunate son of yours, at his command I will make the mountains into flat plains, and flood the desert with the enemy's blood like the Oxus. He wanted, before the king's very eyes, to end an innocent man's days. He kept mentioning this within the letter, and the messenger set out toward Ctesiphon. He told the merchant, Mehr Deram: When Hormozd sees this, he will writhe with grief. Once Khosrow has no comrade or support, he will meet with harsh days from me. When I dash all honors to the ground, I will tear out the roots of Sasan from their base. God did not make the earth for that lineage; the time has come for that blessing to be lifted away. The messenger of good fortune came to Baghdad along with the notables of Rey. When the letter reached Hormozd, his face turned pale as a wilted flower from it. Then word came of Mehr Deram; one by one this piled grief upon grief. He grew troubled and suspicious of his son, and at that moment said this to Ayin Goshasb: That Khosrow, through his manliness, has reached a place where he means to rise up above us. He even sets his own seal upon the coins; what greater sign of contempt than this? Ayin Goshasb answered him: May the field and the horse never see life without you. Hormozd said to him: All at once I will erase this insolent one from the world. Secretly they summoned a man and seated him with the king in the dark night. Hormozd told him: Take up my command, and clear Khosrow from the face of the earth. The man answered: I will do just so; with trickery I will drive all affection from his heart. Now let the king order poison from the treasury, so that when Khosrow grows drunk in the black night, I will mix the poison into the wine cup; what better way could I lay hands on his blood? The chamberlain learned of this scheme, and sleep and peace grew short for him. He came running to Khosrow and told him, revealing all the secrets from their hiding place. When Khosrow heard that the king of the world was secretly plotting to kill him, in the dark night he slipped away from Ctesiphon; you would say he had vanished from the world. He did not give away that precious head for nothing; he rode hard toward Azarbadegan. When word reached the great lord who was the governor and chief of that province, That Khosrow had turned against the king in anger, and had ridden off with only a handful of horsemen. The proud chieftains sought him out wherever a noble sign of him could be found. Men like Badan Piruz and like Shir Zil, who were just in their rule and strong as elephants, Like the Shirans and Vestoy the worshipper of God, from Oman a warrior like Khonj, fierce as a maddened elephant, From Kerman a mounted hero like Bivard, from the Shirans one like Sam Esfandiar, One by one they turned their faces toward Khosrow; both army and commander sought him as their king. Each one said to him: Son of the king, this crown, this throne, and this diadem befit you. From Iran and from the plains of the lancers, from the swordsmen and the warrior chiefs, See that you fear no harm; live in joy, in peace, with a proud and easy heart. One hour we will ride our horses to the hunt, the next we will hurry to the fire of Azar Goshasb. By the custom of our forefathers we will pray, and offer up our souls to God. If some three hundred thousand riders from the land of Iran mount up to defend you against harm, We will all give our bodies to be killed before you, and count it an honor to die for you. Khosrow said to them: I am full of fear, both of the king and of that gathering of his. If these chiefs will come before the fire of Azar Goshasb and swear heavy oaths, And so make me wholly secure, promising they will not break their vow to me thereafter, Then I will stay safely in this land, and will not fear a fight with any devil. When the heroes heard his words, they all turned their faces toward the fire. They swore the oaths just as he wished: that they would keep their love for him true, before their very eyes. When he was secretly reassured by the great men, he sent out scouts in every direction. By Khosrow's command, bold riders went to the court like lions, To learn what his father would say about the flight, in case he was devising some new scheme. When Hormoz heard that Khosrow had gone, he at once sent someone off in haste. He put Gostahm and Bandoy in chains and sent them, helpless, to prison, For those two were Khosrow's uncles on his mother's side, men new to the world in their courage. And every other kinsman of his besides these he dragged off to prison amid much talk. Then the king said to Ayin Goshasb: We are cut off from good counsel and yoked to the wind. Now that he is gone, what shall we do about Bahram, that petty and wicked-hearted slave? Ayin Goshasb set about finding a remedy, seeking how to give this affair its color and scent. He said to him: Exalted king, how long the words of Bahram have grown. He secretly seeks to spill all my blood; I was the very first he set out to wound. Send me to him with my feet bound in chains, perhaps that will serve your purpose. The king replied, 'This is no task for me; such a scheme belongs to a base and demonic mind.' 'I will send an army, and you shall be its commander; in the fighting, take the upper hand.' 'First send him a guide, so you can see what plans he holds in his head.' 'If he seeks lordship, crown, and throne, then in the end fortune will turn its face from him.' 'But if he stays content in a lesser place, then in the end peace suits him better.' 'I will give him a portion of the world, and set the crown of heroes on his head.' 'Keep me informed of all his doings; waste no time, and make the matter short.' Ayin Goshasp was arranging these affairs, laying the foundation the wise king had ordered. There was a man imprisoned, from his own city, seeking some way out from the king's jail. When he heard that the horseman Ayin Goshasp was setting out for battle, he sent someone from the prison to him, saying, 'O renowned and noble lord, 'I am a prisoner from your own city; I need hardly explain, you surely know me.' 'If you would ask the king to free me, I will run beside you into this war.' 'Once I am freed from this narrow cell, I will risk my life fighting at your side.' Then Ayin Goshasp sent a messenger, hurrying, to the king of the world, saying, 'A man from my city lies in chains, in prison, in fear and suffering.' 'May the world-ruling king grant him to me, so he may travel now along with me.' The king said to him, 'That wicked, worthless man, is he to make war at your side?' 'A murderer, a good-for-nothing, a thief, and you ask me for him, expecting reward.' 'But there is no help for it now in this matter; even if there were none worse than him, no monster is more fitting.' So he handed over that vile, ill-natured man, that evil-doing, bloodthirsty demon. Ayin Goshasp led that army out, driving his troops along the road like the wind. In this way he reached the city of Hamadan, at a place where he made his army camp. He asked whether in that noble city anyone had a share of astrology and fortune-telling. They told him, 'Any astrologer who comes to you will receive your thanks.' 'There is a wealthy old woman here of whom they say she is like the very eye of the stars.' 'Whatever she says comes to pass exactly; she can foretell the summer's heat and autumn's hues.' When Ayin Goshasp heard these words, at once he sent a man and a horse for her. When he arrived, he asked him about the king's affairs, and why he had brought an army onto the road. He said to him: from now on, whisper a single word into my ear, so that my mind stays alert, even if my dark body lies helpless in bed, or if I am wounded by an enemy's dagger. He kept telling the old woman his secret, hiding his voice from everyone. Meanwhile, the man he had rescued from the king, and who had come along the road with him, passed by the fortune-telling woman; he glanced at the chieftain and walked on. The old woman said to him: who is this man, over whose blow you will have to weep? Your very life lies in his hands; may his body have neither brain nor skin left. When Ayin Gushasb heard these words, an old conversation came back to him, something he had heard from the astrologers, which he had been keeping hidden from himself: that your death will come at the hands of a neighbor, a thief, idle and worthless, who will set out on a long road with you; you will beg, and he will spill your blood. He wrote a letter to the king: as for this man I have taken along the road, he should not have been freed from prison, for he is worse than the brood of a dragon. The king had spoken these words to a servant, a servant who had no royal glory in him. When he arrives, give the order at once to cut off this suspect man's head with a dagger. He wrote it and pressed his own seal above it; when the ink dried, he called the neighbor before him. He praised him greatly and gave him gifts, and heaped much blessing on his noble spirit. He said to him: carry this letter secretly and quickly to the king of the world. When he answers, bring the reply to me at once; take care not to linger before the king. The young man took the letter from him, his mind full of worry about the journey. He kept saying: I have endured prison and heavy chains, restless, unable to sleep or eat. God delivered me from that hardship, from that heat, that grief, that misery. Now I turn back toward Ctesiphon; my very marrow and blood boil within me. For a while he stayed miserable on the road, then he broke the seal of the king's letter. When he read that letter from the champion, he was left astonished at the ways of the world: so this neighbor of a man has demanded my life; he said, this is fitting for such a great lord. If he has now hurried to shed my blood, perhaps some bad memory came to him in his dreams. Now he entertains the thought of spilling blood, to rest himself from struggle and toil. With a troubled heart he turned back from the road; it was as though he had become the partner of the wind. When that famous man drew near along the road, he found no one in that royal hall. Ayin Gushasb sat alone in his tent, with no servant, no ally, no sword, and no horse. His heart was full of worry about the king; he wondered what fate would bring him next. When the newcomer entered the tent, Ayin Gushasb knew the man meant to spill his blood. The bloodthirsty man laid his hand on his sword, while the seeker of the world begged him for mercy. He said to him, 'You man who have lost your way, it was not I who asked that your life be taken by the king.' The other answered, 'Even if you had wished it, what have I done that you prepare to do such evil?' He struck the neck of the renowned chief; his feasting and his warfare both came to an end. He carried the head out of the tent, for the man's army knew nothing of what had happened. May no man of ambition be left alone, especially one who has turned his face toward war. When he grew notorious for the blood of that slain man, he galloped off until he reached Bahram. He said to him, 'Here is the head of your enemy, the one who plotted evil against your life, who came against you with an army, unaware of your plans, great or small.' Bahram asked, 'Who is this man, and who in the world will weep over his death?' He answered, 'It is Ayin Gushasb the rider, who came to battle at the king's command.' Bahram said, 'This devout man had gone at the king's bidding to make peace between us and the king, and you took his head while he slept.' 'Now you will get your punishment from me, so that the whole assembly weeps bitterly for you.' He ordered a gallows raised at his gate, with the army and the country looking on. He hanged the ill-starred wretch alive, and so roused the conscience of every evildoer. The horsemen whom Ayin Gushasb the rider had brought at the king's command, when the fate of their commander was sealed, many of them went over to Bahram from the army. Many also went over to Khosrow, and through their bravery became renowned in the world. It happened as when a flock, left without a shepherd, scatters in the storm of a cold day. When news reached the king of what had befallen the famous Ayin Gushasb, out of distress he closed the door of granting justice; no one saw a public audience held by him again. He gave up rest, food, and sleep, and remained with his eyes full of tears. At the court there was much talk about the king, that he had let the curtain fall over the royal hall. One said, 'Bahram has become a warrior and has set his face toward the throne of greatness.' Another said, 'Khosrow, angered by the king, is leading an army toward Iran.' The chiefs were left stunned by that turn of events, and each man now formed his own opinion. When this dispute rose loud in Ctesiphon, the kingdom itself lost its color and its charm. The hearts of the servants filled with pain and hatred; they chose to curse him rather than to praise. Few soldiers remained at the palace gate, and the world grew narrow upon the king's heart. Word reached Banduy and Gostaham that the royal glory had grown dim. The prisoners threw off their chains, and they appointed one man to that task. To go and find out the truth of the matter: who among the warriors still stood at the king's gate. When they learned the state of the times, they turned from obedience and lost their way. They broke the prison, and an uproar rose like a plain that boils over in flood. Whoever was a soldier within the city was left helpless before that verdict. Gostaham and Banduy went to the front, armored, with their troops and their gear. One by one they washed all shame from their eyes; the horsemen rode hot toward the palace. They came from the marketplace ahead of the army, bold, and made their way to the king's court. They said: if you want to be one with us, seek not the least reverence for the king. For Hormozd has strayed from wisdom and the right path; from now on do not call him king. Reach out your hands to punish him; make the honor of Iran bitter to his taste. I will be your leader in this, and we will seat a new king upon his throne. But if you show any weakness in this, we will hand the land of Iran over to you. We will content ourselves with one corner of the world, and step aside with our companions. At Gostaham's words the whole army together began to curse the peace of the king. Saying: may there never be such a crowned king who would reach out his hand to spill his own son's blood. When his troops grew defiant at this speech, at once they set fire to his gate. They entered the royal hall, up to that glorious throne. When they lifted the crown from the king's head, they turned him upside down off his throne. Then they branded the king's eyes with hot iron, and that shining candle went dark. They left him alive just as he was, but they carried off every last thing from his treasury. Such are the ways of the lofty wheel of fate; do not tie your heart to this passing inn. Now we see treasure from it, now suffering; this fleeting lodging turns over on us all. Whether one lives a hundred years or a hundred thousand, that tale is finished when the reckoning comes. Whoever wishes to become a buyer of good will speak no word until he has heard of evil.