The Story Begins

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.