Bahram's Anger and the Khaqan's Wisdom

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.