Manuchehr

For a week Manuchehr lay in grief, his eyes brimming with tears and his face gone pale. On the eighth day King Manuchehr came forth and set the royal crown upon his head. All the champions of the earth, with one voice, sang his praises. When he placed the diadem of kingship on his head, he brought glad tidings to the whole world. With justice, with tradition and manliness, with goodness, purity, and wisdom. He said: I sit on the throne of the turning heavens; in me are both wrath and war, and both justice and love. The earth is my servant and the sky my ally; the heads of crowned kings are my prey. Mine are faith and the divine glory; mine are both good fortune and good sense. On the dark night I am the one who hunts down vengeance; I am the sharp, burning fire itself. Master of the sword and the golden boots, raiser of the banner of Kaveh. Kindler who scatters the storm clouds, wielder of the cutting blade; in battle I do not spare my own life. At the feast my two hands are like a sea of bounty; at my seat the fire loses its breath before me. I cut short the hand of the wicked from their evil; in vengeance I dye the earth the color of rich brocade. Wielder of the mace and bearer of the crown, brightener of the kingdom on the ivory throne. Yet with all these gifts I am but a servant; I worship the Creator of the world. We beat our hands upon our weeping faces; every tale we tell begins with God. For from Him come the crown and throne, from Him my army; from Him my thanks, and in Him my refuge. We walk the path of blessed Fereydun; though we are new, our forebears are ancient. Anyone in the seven regions of the earth who strays from the right path and turns from the faith, who prolongs the suffering of the poor, who degrades his own people, who lifts his head high through greed and treasure, and heaps more pain on the already suffering, all of them, in my eyes, are unbelievers, and worse than the evil-doing Ahriman. Whoever follows anything but this faith earns the curse of God and of me. And then I will reach for the sword and lay every land and border low. All the champions of the earth called down blessings upon Manuchehr, saying: Your blessed grandfather, O well-wisher, has given you kingship, throne, and crown. May the throne of the noble be yours forever, and the crown, and the glory of the sages. Each of our hearts is at your command; our very lives lie under your covenant. The world's champion Sam rose to his feet and said: O king of true justice, for me the joy of kings is simply to behold you; from you comes justice, and from us, approval. Father to father, you are the king of Iran; you are the chosen of horsemen and lions. May the pure God keep you safe; may your heart be glad and your fortune ever watchful. You are the keepsake of the ancient days to me; on the royal throne you are my springtime. In battle you are an enduring lion; at the feast you are a shining sun. May earth and time be the dust beneath your feet, and the turquoise throne your place. You have cleansed the earth with your Indian sword; now sit at ease and choose delight. From now on war is our turn; yours is the throne, and joy, and the feast. I will roam the world once more and bring back a few of the enemy in chains. Your grandfather made me a champion; your wisdom, love, and counsel gave my heart its strength. The king blessed him again and again, and gave him much of his royal treasure. When Sam strode away from before the throne, the champions fell in behind him. He moved off toward his resting place, while the world went on in his own order and way.

Now let me weave a tale full of wonder, taken from the words of the ancients. Look at the trick that fate played on Sam; listen closely, my son. Sam had no child of his own, and his heart longed for that wish to be fulfilled. In his private chambers he kept a lovely woman, her face like rose petals, her hair like musk. From that moon-faced beauty he hoped for a child, one with the face of the sun and full of promise. She was carrying Sam's child, and her body ached under its heavy weight. After some days, from that mother was born a beauty as radiant as the world-lighting sun. His face shone bright as the sun, yet all of his hair was white. Since the boy was born to his mother in this way, for a whole week no one told Sam. The women of that famous champion's household stood grieving over the little newborn. No one dared tell the brave Sam that his beautiful wife had borne him an old, white-haired child. But he had a nurse as bold as a lion, and she came to the champion with courage. She said: May this be a blessed day for the brave Sam, and may the hearts of his enemies be torn out. Behind your curtain, O seeker of fame, your moon-faced wife has borne a pure son. His body is silver-white, his face like paradise; you will not find a single flaw upon him. Only, like a deer, his hair is white; such is your portion, O seeker of fame. Sam the horseman came down from his throne and stepped behind the curtain toward that fresh spring of a child. When he saw his son's white hair, he lost all hope in the world entirely. He raised his head straight toward the sky and cried out to the Giver of Justice. He said: O you who are above all crookedness and fault, from you comes far more good than one could ask. If I have committed some grave sin, or followed the way of Ahriman, then let the Creator of the world, in his mercy, secretly forgive me for my plea. My darkened soul writhes with shame, and hot blood boils within my heart. When the proud warriors come and ask, what shall I say about this ill-marked child? What shall I say this demon's child is? A leopard? A thing of two colors? Or a fairy? For this disgrace I would leave the land of Iran; I want no blessing on this soil and country. Then he ordered that the child be taken up and carried far away from that land. To the place where the Simurgh had her nest, that little stranger was left. They set him on the mountain and turned back, and a long time passed over this. So it was that the innocent son of a champion could not yet tell white from black. The father tossed aside all love and kinship; he wronged the child still at the breast. Consider even a fierce lioness: never does she deny her cub her milk. If I had fed you with the blood of my heart, I would never have held it over you as a debt. For you are my very eye and my heart itself; my heart would break if you broke away from me. When the Simorgh's chicks grew hungry, she soared up in haste from her nest. She saw an infant crying at the breast, and the ground beneath him like a boiling sea of tears. His cradle was hard rock, his nurse the dust, his body without clothing, his lips without milk. Around him lay the dark and wretched earth, and above him the sun had climbed high. Would that a leopard had been his mother and father, so he might at least have found some shade from the sun. The Simorgh came down from the clouds and, with her talons, lifted him up off that scorching stone. She carried him swiftly to the Alborz peak, where she had her nest and her brood. She brought him to her chicks to be their prey, so they would pay no heed to his pitiful cries. But God, the giver of good, took pity; what was fated for the boy still lay ahead. The Simorgh looked at that small child among her chicks, blood dripping from both his eyes. Strangely, they were filled with love for him, and gazed in wonder at that beautiful face. She chose the most tender of her prey for him, for, having no milk, the little guest sucked its blood. And so it went for a long span of time, until the all knowing God revealed the secret. When that small child had grown noble and strong, a good stretch of time had passed upon that mountain. He became a man like a fresh cypress, his chest a silver mountain, his waist slender as a reed. News of him spread across the world; good and evil never stay hidden for long. Word reached Sam, son of Nariman, about that fortunate boy of noble bearing. One night among many, heartsick, he lay asleep, deeply troubled by the ways of the world. In his dream he saw a man from India riding hard upon an Arabian horse, who brought him the good news of his son, of that lofty, fruitful branch of his. When he woke, he summoned the wise priests and spoke with them at length about this matter. 'What do you say,' he asked, 'about this story? Does your wisdom agree with me on this?' Every one of them, both old and young, opened their lips to the champion and said: 'The lion and the leopard on stone and dust, and the fish and the crocodile down in the sea, all of them raise their young, and give their thanks to God for them.' 'Yet you broke the covenant of the good giver and cast out your innocent child like that.' Now turn toward God and ask his pardon, for he is the one who guides us to what is good. When the dark night fell, the urge to sleep came over him; the worry in his heart pressed hard upon him. In his dream he saw a tall banner raised high from the mountains of India. A handsome young man appeared, with a great army marching behind him. On his left stood a priest, and on his right a famous, wise man. One of those two men stepped up to Sam and began to speak with cold, cutting words. He said: You reckless man of impure heart, you who have washed all shame of God from your eyes and soul, if a bird can serve as your child's nurse, then what is the point of all your heroism? If white hair is a flaw in a man, then your own beard and head have turned as pale as a willow's silver leaves. So renounce the Creator, whose hand gives your body a new color every day. The son who was worthless in your eyes is now raised and cherished by God himself, who is a kinder nurse to him than any other; you yourself have no substance of love within you. In his sleep Sam let out a cry, like a raging lion caught in a snare. When he woke he summoned his wise men and set all the leaders of his army on their horses. He rode hard toward that mountain range, to seek out the child he had cast away. He saw a mountain with its head in the Pleiades, so high it seemed to drag the stars down. On it a nest was raised so tall that not even Saturn could harm it. It was built with beams of ebony and sandalwood, aloewood fitted piece into piece. Sam gazed at that hard granite, at the terror of the bird and the awe of its den. It was a palace whose crown touched the stars, made neither by human toil nor of water and clay. He searched for a way to climb up, but how could there be a path in such a place, fit only for wild beasts and birds? He praised the Creator and pressed his cheeks to the ground. He said: You who are higher than any place, above every bright soul, above the sun and moon, if this child truly comes from my pure lineage, and not from the evil seed of a demon, then take your servant's hand and help me climb; accept this sinner of yours. The Simorgh said this to the son of Sam: You who have known the hardship of nest and den, your father, Sam the champion, the hero of the world, the proudest man among the great, has come to this mountain seeking his son; your honor before him is restored. Now it is right that I lift you and bring you gently down to him. See what Dastan replied to the Simorgh: So it seems you have grown weary of your companion. Your nest is my shining throne; your two wings are the glory of my crown. The Simorgh answered: If you should see a crown and a throne, and know the royal way of the diadem, in case this nest of mine no longer serves your need, try the world out for yourself. Keep one feather of mine with you; the shadow of my glory will bless you. If any hardship ever comes upon you, or talk of good and evil rises against you, throw one of my feathers into the fire, and at once you will witness my glory. For I raised you beneath my wing, and brought you up alongside my own chicks. In that moment I will come like a dark cloud and carry you back to this place, unharmed. Do not forget your nurse's love in your heart, for my love for you tears at my own. She gladdened her heart, lifted him up, and soared high into the clouds with him. From her flight she brought him down to his father, his hair by now grown down to his chest. His body was mighty as an elephant, his face like spring; when his father saw him, he wept bitterly. He quickly bowed his head to the Simorgh, pouring out his praise and blessings. He gazed at the boy from head to foot; he was worthy of a royal crown and throne. A lion's chest and arms, a face like the sun, the heart of a warrior, a hand seeking the sword. His eyelashes white, his eyes black as pitch, his lips like coral, his cheeks the color of blood. Sam's heart became like the highest paradise; he blessed that pure son of his. He said: My son, soften your heart toward me; do not dwell on the past, warm your heart again. I am the least of God's worshippers, now that I have taken you back into my arms. I have vowed before the great God that I will never again turn my heart harshly against you. I will seek your wishes, for good or ill; from now on, whatever you want is right. He clothed his body in a warrior's robe and set his feet down from the mountain. He came down from the mountain and called for a mount, and asked for garments fit for a king. The whole army came before Sam, coming with open hearts and joyful spirits. The drummers led the elephants forward, and a dust rose up like the color of indigo. The clamor of kettledrums and trumpets, the golden bells and the Indian chimes. All the horsemen raised a cheer, and in that gladness they set off on their way. When night raised its banner into the sky, that Roman face of day turned dark as an African's. They came down onto that open plain, lay down, and drew breath for a while. When the blazing sun shone on the turning sky, it pitched a tent of white silk. They came joyfully into the city, arriving with even greater honor and heroic pride.

One by one the news reached the king: Sam had come down from the mountain in glory. That news made Manuchehr glad, and he gave much praise to the Creator of the world. He ordered the renowned Nozar to ride out swiftly to meet Sam. To offer him a royal welcome, with all the joy of finally seeing his face. He was to bid Sam come to the king, so they could speak and share their words. That Sam might look upon the face of his son Zal, and rejoice at meeting him again. And from there return to Zabolestan, following the ways of those who serve their king. When Nozar reached Sam, son of Nariman, he saw a new champion of the world. Sam the rider dismounted from his horse, and the two men embraced each other. Sam asked after the king and his warriors, and Nozar delivered the king's message to him. When mighty Sam heard the great king's message, he kissed the ground. He set off in haste toward the court, just as the crown-seeking king had commanded. When he drew near the king, the commander came out to receive him. When Sam saw Manuchehr's banner, he dismounted from his horse and walked on foot. Manuchehr ordered that pure-hearted, king-serving hero to mount again. They turned toward the throne and the hall together, both the crowned king and the crown-seeker. Manuchehr sat joyfully upon his throne and set the crown of greatness on his head. With Qaren on one side and Sam on the other, they sat down bright-hearted and content. Then Zal was brought before the king, adorned, with a golden mace and a battle helmet. The chief of the court brought him in, striding proudly, and the king marveled at him. At that tall stature and that beautiful face, you would say he was the very comfort and love of the soul. The king said to Sam: from now on, keep this one in your care. Never wrong him without cause in any way; take joy in no one but him. For he has royal splendor and a lion's grip, the heart of the wise and the courage of a lion. Then, about the Simorgh and the high mountain, and how one once scorned became honored, Sam told him all of it, one by one, both openly and in secret. He revealed the secret of casting Zal away, and how the heavens turned against him from on high. In the end the world was filled for many years with the tale of the Simorgh and Zal. I went, by the command of the Lord of the world, to Mount Alborz, to that dreadful place. I saw a mountain with its peak in the clouds; you would say it was a sky of solid granite rising over water. You have a nest as lofty as a high palace, safe on every side from any harm. Inside it lived the fledgling and Zal together, as if the two were equals. The scent of love drifted on his breath, and even the thought of him brought peace to the heart. I spoke in secret and truly to the Judge: O Creator who needs nothing, your proof reaches everywhere, and the heavens turn only by your command. I am a servant with a body full of sin, standing before the Lord of the sun and moon. My only hope is in your mercy; I have no other resource. This servant, raised by a bird, brought up in hardship and misery, clothed in feathers instead of silk, fed on meat instead of a breast full of milk, do not burn my soul over my faithlessness; give him back to me and light up my heart. When this was said, by the will of God the prayer was granted at once. The Simorgh beat her wings and rose to the clouds, then circled above the fire-worshipping man. She came down from the mountain like a spring cloud, holding Zal's body in her embrace. She brought him to me like a nurse who is full of tenderness for him. I brought him before the king of the world and revealed to him all that had been hidden. Then the king ordered the priests, the astrologers, and the wise men, to find out what Zal's star was, and whose fortune shone on that star as its master. When he rises high, what will he become; what tale will fate tell of him? At once the astrologers read the clear signs from his star. They told the crowned king: May you live in joy as long as time endures, for he will be a famous champion, proud, clear-minded, brave, and a fine horseman. When the king heard these words he rejoiced, and the champion's heart was freed of sorrow. The king of the earth prepared a robe of honor for which everyone praised him. Arab horses with golden bridles, Indian swords in golden sheaths, coins, fine silk, rubies and gold, and many rich carpets to spread out, Roman servants dressed in Roman brocade, its patterns all jewels and its ground all gold, trays of emerald and cups of turquoise, some of red gold and some of pure silver, filled with musk, camphor, and saffron; the servants carried it all forward. Also armor, helmet, and horse-mail, spear, arrow, and heavy mace, a turquoise throne and a golden crown, a ruby signet and a golden belt. After that, Manuchehr wrote out a decree, filled from end to end with praise like paradise. All of Kabul, Zabol, Mai, and India, from the Sea of China to the Sea of Sind, from Zabolestan to the far side of Bost, they set down a fresh and binding pact. When they had prepared this decree and robe of honor, they called for the world champion's horse. When this was done, Sam rose to his feet: 'O kind and mighty lord of justice and truth, from the depths below to the turning moon above, no king like you has ever worn the crown. With love and justice, with good temper and wisdom, the age draws its ease and comfort from you. In your eyes all the treasure of the world is worthless. May your name never fade from memory.' He came down and kissed the throne; they strapped the war drums onto the elephant's back. They set out toward Zabolestan, every town and street watching them pass. When he drew near to Nimruz, word spread of the world illuminating chief. Sistan was adorned like paradise, its clay pure musk, its bricks laid in gold. They poured out heaps of musk and gold coins; they scattered saffron and silver everywhere. There was such joy throughout the world, among the humble and the great alike. Wherever there was a noble seeking renown, from across the land he turned toward Sam, saying, 'May this young man's path be blessed, blessed be this pure hearted, famous champion.' When they had praised the champion, they showered jewels upon Zal the golden. Then Sam sat in splendor with his cup, giving out gifts and taking his pleasure. Whoever deserved a robe of honor, being wise and fit to hold command, they dressed each in a robe fitting his rank, and all sought a higher standing. He summoned the experienced elders from the realm and spoke to them of many needful things. He said to the renowned and wise: 'O pure and clear minded priests, such is the command of the vigilant king: the army must be marched down the road. Toward the Gorgsaran and Mazandaran I intend to lead a heavy host. This son will stay here with you, one dear to me as my own life and heart. My heart and soul remain here with him; my lashes scatter the blood of my heart. In the days of my youth and daring, I once made a pointless, unjust judgment. I cast away the son God had given me; out of ignorance I failed to know his worth. The noble Simorgh lifted him up; the Creator himself appointed her to it. She raised him like a tall cypress tree; worthless to me, he was precious to the bird.' When the time for mercy finally came, the Lord of the world gave him back to me. Know that he is entrusted to my care, and now I leave him with you as a keepsake. Treat him with honor, give him counsel, and teach him every noble path and wise idea. Then Sam turned toward Zal and said: hold to justice and generosity, and seek peace. Know that Zabulistan is your home; the whole world, from end to end, is under your command. Make your home and your realm more flourishing, and the hearts of those who love you more glad. The keys to all the treasuries are yours; my heart, in joy or sorrow, rests on your fortune, whether small or great. Then young Zal said to Sam: how am I to live here, alone and wretched? Before this you kept me far away; do not keep me so now, when the time of reconciliation has come. If anyone was born guilty from his mother, I am that one, and it is fair if I cry out against this injustice. Once I lay under the talons of a bird, crawling in the dust and feeding on blood. Now I am cut off from the one who raised me; this is how fate chooses to raise me. From the rose garden my only share is thorns, yet I have no quarrel with the Lord of the world over this. Sam said: it is right to unburden your heart; empty it out and tell me whatever you wish. The astronomer, the reader of stars, foretold this good fortune for you from the heavens: that here will be your resting place, here your army, and here your crown. There is no escaping the decree of the turning sky; here you must spread out your love and kindness. Now gather around yourself a company of horsemen and men who seek knowledge. Learn and listen to every branch of knowledge, for in every knowledge you will find delight. Never rest from eating well and giving freely; set your whole aim on wisdom and on doing justice. He said this, and the war drums rose; the air turned dark as pitch, the earth black as ebony. The clang of bells and Indian cymbals rose up from the entrance of the royal pavilion. The commander set his face toward battle, leading an army made ready for war. Zal rode with him two stages along the road, to see how his father would lead the troops away. The father held Zal tight against his chest, and a strange, wondrous weeping seized him. He ordered Zal to turn back from the road and return in joy to his throne and crown. Zal, son of Sam, went home full of thought about how to live and keep a good name. He sat upon the famous throne of ivory and placed that shining crown upon his head. With the armband and the ox-headed mace, with the golden collar and the golden belt. He summoned the wise elders from every land, examined every matter, and settled every affair. Astrologers and men of faith, warriors on horseback and fierce fighters, were with him night and day, discussing every matter, great and small. Zal grew so much from all his learning that you would say he shone like a star ablaze. In judgment and knowledge he reached such heights that he saw no one in the world to equal him. And so the turning heavens kept spinning, spreading their love over both Sam and Zal.

One day it happened that he made up his mind to move about his kingdom. He set out with his chosen knights, men who shared his mind and his faith. He turned toward the land of India, toward Kabul and Dombar, Marg and May. At every stopping place he made a feast, calling for wine and music and singers. He opened his treasure and cast off care, living by the ways of this fleeting inn of a world. From Zabol he reached Kabul at last, striding proudly, smiling, with a glad heart. There a king named Mehrab held power, mighty, with treasure and every desire fulfilled. In height like a free-standing cypress, his face like spring, his walk like a pheasant's. He had the heart of the wise and the mind of chiefs, the shoulders of a champion, the good sense of priests. His blood ran back to Zahhak the Arab, yet all Kabul's land was under his rule. Each year he paid Sam a tribute, since in war he had no strength to stand against him. When word reached him of Zal, son of Sam, he came from Kabul at dawn. With treasure and horses in fine harness, with slaves and gifts of every kind. Bringing gold coins, rubies, musk and amber, brocade shot with gold and Chinese silk. A crown set with jewels fit for a king, and a golden collar patterned with green stones. When news came to Zal, son of Sam, that Mehrab had arrived in all this splendor, Zal went out to meet him and welcomed him warmly, seating him with the honor he deserved. They returned to the turquoise throne, hearts open, ready for the feast. They laid a hero's table and sat down together, joyful and blessed. The cupbearer brought wine and the goblet, and the son of Sam kept looking at Mehrab. The sight of him pleased Zal greatly, and his heart grew keener about the man's affairs. When Mehrab rose from Zal's table, Zal gazed at his fine height and bearing. Zal the golden-haired said to his nobles: who is more worthy than this man to gird his belt? One famous man among the chiefs spoke up: O champion of the world, Behind his curtain there is a daughter whose face is brighter than the sun. From head to foot she is like ivory, her cheek like paradise, her figure like teak. On her silver shoulder falls a musk-dark lasso of hair, its end curled like an ankle ring. Her cheeks are like pomegranate blossom, her lips like its seeds; on her silver breast rise two pomegranates. Her two eyes are like narcissus in a garden, her lashes darker than a raven's wing. Her brows are like a well-strung bow, sheathed in supple bark scented with musk. She is a paradise adorned from end to end, full of beauty, delight, and every good thing. This set Zal's heart boiling, until his calm and his senses left him. When night came Zal sat lost in thought, longing for one he had never seen, with no food, no ease. When the sun's blade struck the mountain peak and the world's face turned white as a ruby's gleam, Zal, son of Sam, threw open his gate, and his knights came out in their golden scabbards. They dressed the champion's court finely and led forth the horses of the noblest men. Mehrab, lord of Kabul, went out toward the tent of Zal, lord of Zabol. When he neared the royal pavilion, a cry rose at the door: make way! The hero walked in upon the champion, like a tree laden with fresh fruit. Zal's heart grew glad; he made him welcome and raised him above that whole gathering. He asked: what do you want of me? Name it, throne or seal, sword or crown. Mehrab said to him: O king, exalted, victorious, and commanding, I have only one wish in all the world, and that wish is not hard for you to grant. That you come in joy to my house, and light up my soul like the bright sun. Zal answered: that would not be wise; I have no place inside your house. Sam would not agree to it, nor would the king, once he heard the tale, That we drank wine and grew drunk and went off to the house of idol-worshippers. Whatever else you ask I will grant; I set my heart with joy on seeing you. When Mehrab heard this he praised him aloud, but in his heart he called Zal a man of impure faith. He walked gracefully away from Zal's throne, still calling blessings on his fortune. As Zal, son of Sam, watched him go, he praised him greatly, as was fitting. Yet because the man was not of his faith and his path, Zal held his tongue from full praise. No one there fixed their eyes on him with respect; they counted him among the devil-worshippers. But when they saw their clear-hearted champion so warm with him in conversation, The nobles began to praise Mehrab one by one, and the daughter hidden behind his curtain too, Her height, her looks, her gentle grace, her worthiness and her fitness. Zal's heart went mad all at once; reason fled, and love became his wisdom. The Arab-descended chief, leader of the just, once told a story of this kind: As long as I live my grey horse is my mate; the arch of the turning sky is my only shelter. I need no bride, lest I grow soft and vain and disgrace myself before the wise. Zal's heart was wounded by these worries, yet he set it firmly on that pursuit. His heart kept writhing at the thought of the gossip, fearing his honor might be darkened by it. For a while he wandered beneath the wheel of heaven, his heart wholly filled with love.

It happened one morning at dawn that Mehrab left and then returned from the royal court. He passed toward his own private chambers, walking through the gardens of his home. Two suns shone within his palace hall: Sindokht and moon-faced Rudabeh. Both adorned like a garden in spring, from head to toe full of fragrance, color, and beauty. He stood in wonder at Rudabeh, and called out God's name upon her. He saw a cypress crowned with a face like the moon, wearing a cap of amber upon her head. Dressed in silk and jewels, like a paradise brimming with every treasure. Sindokht questioned Mehrab, parting her ruby lips over pearly teeth. She asked how his day had gone and how he had returned, may every wicked hand be kept far from you. What kind of man is this old son of Sam? Does he still think of a throne, or does a wild lair suit him? Does he have any human kindness in him? Does he follow the path of famous heroes? Mehrab answered her like this: O silver-bodied cypress with the face of the moon, Among all the brave champions of the world, no one can match the trail of Zal the golden-haired. With his hand and reins he is a painting on a palace wall; you will never see a rider like him in the saddle. He has the heart of a lion and the strength of an elephant; his two hands are like the flooding Nile. On the throne he scatters gifts like pearls; in battle he scatters the heads of his foes. His face puts the red blossom to shame; he is young in years, sharp-eyed, and blessed with youthful fortune. In vengeance he is a crocodile of ruin; in the saddle he is a sharp-clawed dragon. In battle he lays foes in the dust and blood, swinging his gleaming, water-bright blade. The only flaw fault-finders can name of him is that his hair is white. Yet the whiteness of his hair only becomes him; you would say it steals hearts away. When Rudabeh heard this talk, she flushed, her face turning the color of pomegranate blossom. Her heart filled with fire from love of Zal; food, calm, and peace all deserted her. When longing took the place of reason, she was changed in mind, in manner, and in nature.

She had five Turkish maids who served her, devoted and loving slaves. She said to those wise servants: I mean to reveal what has been hidden. Each one of you, you keep my secrets; you serve me and share my sorrows. Know this, all five of you, and understand: may fortune be your companion always. I am in love, like a raging sea whose waves rise up to the sky. My bright heart is full of the son of Sam; even in sleep my thoughts of him never break. My heart lives always in the ache of loving him; night and day I dream of his face. Now what cure do you have for this? What will you say, what pledge will you make with me? A remedy must be found now to free my heart and soul from this torment. The maids were amazed that such helplessness came from the noblewoman's daughter. They readied their reply, and rose up as if the devil himself had stirred them. They said: You, crown of the world's ladies, held highest above the daughters of the great, praised from India to China, a shining jewel set among idols, no cypress in the meadow stands as tall as you; no star shines like your face, the very image of your face God sends eastward from Kanauj and Rai. Have you no shame in your eyes at all, no respect for your father? The one his own father cast aside, that is the one you want to hold in your arms, a man raised by a bird in the mountains, marked out as strange among all people. No child was ever born of an old mother, and from one who bears no child no line descends. You, with lips like two red corals still smelling of milk, it would be a wonder if you went chasing an old man. A whole world is filled with love for you; palace walls are painted with your face. With such a face, such stature, such hair, a husband should come to you from the fourth heaven itself. When Rudabeh heard their words, her heart flared up like fire before the wind. She cried out at them in anger, turned away her face and shut her eyes. Then, with a scowling face and gaze, she drew her brows into a frown of rage. She said: This clumsy quarrel of yours, your words were not worth hearing. I want neither the Caesar nor the emperor of China, nor any of the crowned kings of Iran. For my match is Zal, the son of Sam, with a lion's arm and a mighty frame. Call him old or call him young, he is to me my very body and soul. My heart chose to love him without ever seeing him; it chose this friendship from mere hearsay. I love him for his face and hair, and it was toward his worth that I turned in love. The maids grasped her secret when their wounded hearts heard her words. They said aloud: We are your servants, loving in heart and devoted to you. Just tell us now what you command; nothing but good can come of your command. One of them said: You, slender cypress, take care that no one learns of this, and if magic must be learned, if eyes must be sealed shut with spells and charms, we will fly with the birds and become sorceresses, we will race and turn into gazelles to find a way, so that we may bring the king to our moon and lift him up beside her. Rudabeh's red lips broke into a smile; she turned her saffron cheeks toward the maid. She said: If you carry out this plan, you will plant a tall and fruitful tree, a tree that bears rubies every day, laying its fruit into your open arms.

The servant rose and left his side, and set her mind on finding some scheme for this troubled affair. They dressed the maidens in Roman silk and arranged their curling locks over faces like roses. All five set out toward the riverbank, fresh in every scent and color like joyful spring. It was the first of Farvardin, the start of the year, and Zal's camp lay along the riverbank. They gathered roses at the water's edge, their cheeks like rose gardens, roses in their arms. Zal looked out from his high throne and asked who these rose-gathering women might be. The speaker said to the hero: They come from the palace of Mehrab, that bright soul. The moon of Kabul sends her servants out to the rose garden. Zal went toward those fairy-faced women; he asked his Turkish attendant for a bow and squared his shoulders. He walked on foot, hunting for game, and spotted a waterfowl in that river. The rosy-cheeked Turk strung the bow and placed it in the world-hero's hand. He watched until the bird lifted from the water, then swiftly loosed an arrow. He brought it spinning down from its flight; blood dripped and the river's water turned to brocade. Then he told the Turk: Cross over there and bring me the bird I have brought down. The sturdy Turk crossed by boat and walked up to the servant girl. The servant asked: Warrior, speak, open your sweet tongue and tell me, who is this lion-armed, elephant-bodied man, and of what assembly is he the king? He who looses an arrow from the bow like this; what chance would an enemy have before him? We have never seen a rider more handsome, so masterful with bow and arrow. The fairy-faced girl bit her lip and said: Do not speak of a king in this way. He is the king of Nimruz, the son of Sam, whom kings call Dastan by name. Though a rider circled the whole world, he would never find one so renowned. The servant laughed at the moon-faced youth and said: Do not say so much. For in Mehrab's palace there is a moon who stands a full head taller than your king. Tall as a teakwood tree, ivory-hued, with a divine crown of musk upon her head. Two dark, languid narcissus eyes, two curved brows, and the ridge of her nose like a silver pen. Her mouth as narrow as a grieving heart, her curls like the coil of a shackle. Her two bewitching eyes full of dreamy languor, her face radiant, her cheeks full of tulips, her hair full of musk. It seems there is no room for breath upon her lips; there is no moon in the world to equal her. Each of the servant girls openly praised that beauty's face, by this scheme, to bring those ruby lips to be joined with the lips of Sam's son. He said to those beautiful attendants: The shining sun goes well beside the moon. But perhaps there is no way to speak of it; perhaps water cannot reach this stream. The brave man who avoids taking a wife stays easily concealed, alone. So that he need never have a daughter, and never hear a word of shame about her. The male falcon said this to his mate when he settled on the eggs and spread his wings: If I hatch a chick from this egg, I will drive my own father's seed out of existence. When the smiling youth came back from them, the renowned son of Sam asked him, What did she say to you, that you come back smiling, lips parted over your silver teeth? He told the hero all that he had heard; the hero's heart grew young with joy. He said to the moon-faced servant boy: Go, tell those attendants, not to leave the rose garden for a while; they should carry off jewels from this garden along with the roses. He called for silver coins, gold, and jewels from the treasury, and five precious bolts of gold-woven silk. He ordered: Take these to them; tell no one, and carry them in secret. They must not return to the palace yet, so that I may send a message in confidence. Five men went off to the moon-faced women with warm words, gold, and treasure. They handed over the gold and jewels, and the message of the world-hero, Zal the golden. The servant said to the lovely one: A secret never stays hidden for long, unless it stays between two people; with three it is no secret, and with four it is a public gathering. So speak, wise one of pure heart: if your word is a secret, tell it to us. The servants said to one another: The male lion has walked into the snare. Now the wish of Rudabeh and the desire of Zal have come true, and this is a good omen. The dark-eyed treasurer of the king came forward, for she was the one entrusted with this affair. Everything she had heard from that dear one she now told the commander in secret. The commander strode toward the rose garden, in hope of the sun of Kabul. The fairy-faced, rosy-cheeked idols of Taraz came out and bowed low before him. The commander questioned them about the stature and the face of that cypress-like girl, about her speech, her looks, her judgment and wisdom, so he might learn her nature and character. Tell me every detail, and see that you do not slip into any falsehood. If your account is truthful, you will keep your honor with me. But if I suspect any crookedness, I will trample you beneath the feet of my elephants. The tulip-cheeked girl turned pale as amber and kissed the ground before the commander. She said: No mother has borne into this world, among the great, anyone with the face of Sam, his stature, the purity of his heart, his knowledge and judgment, and another like you, brave hero, with this height and lion's arms. It is as if wine drips from your face, as if your scent is fragrant ambergris. And a third, like moon-faced Rudabeh, a silver cypress with color and fragrance. From head to foot she is rose and jasmine, like the star Canopus of Yemen upon a straight cypress. From that silver dome, her head reaching down to the ground, she has let her lasso of hair fall over the roses like an ambush. Her head is woven through with musk and ambergris, her body glowing with ruby and emerald. Her curling locks are like chains of musk, thrown down, it seems, knot upon knot. Her ten fingers like silver pens, marked all over with a hundred lines of perfume. No idol-maker in China could paint one like her; moon and stars offer her their praise. The commander spoke warmly to the servant, sweet words in a gentle voice: Now tell me what scheme there is, some way to find my path to her, for my heart and soul are full of love for her; my only wish is to see her face. The servant said: If you command it, we will make our way to the palace of that graceful cypress. Of the world-hero's fortunate mind, of his words and looks and bright soul, we will speak in every way, coaxing her; and there is nothing false in what we say. We will draw that musk-scented one into the snare, and bring her lips toward the lips of Sam's son. Then perhaps the hero will come with his lasso to the wall of the high palace, and loop it over the neck of the battlements; the lion will rejoice at his prey, the lamb. The beauties departed and Zal turned back, his heart now matched to his desire and joy.

The lovely girls arrived at the palace gate, each carrying two sprigs of flowers in her hands. The gatekeeper looked at them and picked a quarrel; he loosed a rude tongue and grew short-tempered. 'Leave the gate now, it is too late,' he said. 'I wonder what will become of you.' The beauties readied their answer and rose to their feet, stung and vexed at heart. 'Today is no ordinary day; no evil demon blocks the flower-gatherers' path. Spring has come; we go to the garden to pick flowers, to gather hyacinth stems from the earth.' The keeper of the gate said, 'Today's affair should not be reckoned like other days, for Zal the commander was not in Kabul, and the tent-pavilion of the king of Zabul was not here. Do you not see how the lord of Kabul's palace mounts his saddle at daybreak? If he sees you with flowers in hand like this, he will at once dash you to the ground.' The graceful beauties entered the great hall; they sat and shared their secrets with the moon-like Rudabeh. They set gold coins and jewels before her, and Rudabeh asked them for every detail. 'How did things go with the son of Sam? To see him is better than to know him only by voice and name.' All five fairy-faced girls hurried on once they found the chance to speak with the moon. 'He is a man like a tall, straight cypress, graced with beauty and the majesty of kings. He has fine color and scent, fine stature and form; a rider slim at the waist and broad in the chest. His two eyes are like two dark narcissus flowers, his lips like coral, his cheeks red as blood. His palm and forearm are like a fierce lion's paw; strong-thighed, wise of heart, and kingly in bearing. His hair is entirely white in color; that is his only flaw, and it is no shame. The curls upon that champion of the world's head are like silver chainmail laid over a purple blossom. You would think it was meant to be exactly so; without it, his charm would be no less.' 'We have promised him the sight of you; he has gone back with his heart full of hope. Now arrange the matter of your guest; tell us how we should turn to it next.' The cypress-like girl said to her servants, 'You have changed in your counsel and your words. That same Zal who was raised by a bird, whom you called so old and so withered, has now become, in your eyes, like a purple blossom: tall of stature, fair of face, and a hero.' 'You praised my face before him with your words, and then you asked for a reward.' She spoke with her lips full of laughter, her cheeks flushed like pomegranate blossoms. The servant said to the moon-faced lady, 'Now seek out a plan, for God has given you everything you desired; may this affair end in blessing.' She had a chamber like joyful spring, painted with the images of the great. They adorned it with Chinese silk brocade and decked it out with golden trays. They scattered agate and peridot throughout, and mingled wine with musk and amber. All their cups were of gold and turquoise; their drink was bright, clear rosewater. Violet, rose, narcissus, and purple blossom on one side; jasmine sprigs and hyacinth on the other. From that chamber of the sun-faced girl a fragrance rose up all the way to the sun.

When the shining sun had slipped from sight, they shut the chamber door and lost the key to the night. A servant hurried to Zal, son of Sam: 'Everything is ready, come, take your first step.' The warrior turned his face toward the palace, like any man in search of the one he loves. The dark eyed, rose faced girl came up to the roof, tall as a cypress with a full moon at its crown. When from afar Zal, the son of Sam, rode into view of that famous daughter, she parted her ruby lips and called out: 'Welcome, glad young man, be joyful.' 'May the Maker of the world bless you; may the arch of the turning sky be your ground to walk on.' 'On foot, this way, from the royal tents, these princely legs of yours must have grown weary.' When the warrior heard a voice like that, he looked up and saw her sun bright face, the roof lit by that radiant jewel, its earth turned to rubies where red roses might grow. He answered: 'You with a face like the moon, my greeting to you and blessings from the heavens.' 'How many nights, my eyes fixed on the stars, I have cried out before the holy God,' 'begging the Lord of the world to show me your face, if only in secret.' 'Now I am glad, hearing your voice, hearing these lovely, tender words of yours.' 'Find us some way for our eyes to meet. Why keep talking, you on the wall and I in the street?' The fairy faced girl listened to the warrior and quickly loosened her hair, red as pomegranate blossom. She let down a lasso from that tall cypress, hair that no one could ever braid so finely from musk. Coil upon coil, snake upon snake it fell, and on her throat a pomegranate above a pomegranate. She said to him: 'Climb up, tighten your belt, spread the strength of a lion and the grip of kings.' 'Take this black hair of mine to one side. It is meant to serve you, this hair of mine.' Zal gazed at that moon faced girl, struck with wonder at her face and her hair. He answered: 'That would not be fair. Let no bright day ever see such a thing,' 'that I, reckless, lay hands to harm your life and drive a sharp arrow into this wounded heart.' He took a lasso from a servant, gave it a loop, tossed it up with ease and without a breath's delay. It caught on the top of the battlement, and he climbed from the base straight up to the top. When he sat again on the top of that wall, the fairy faced girl came and bowed low to him. Then she took Zal's hand in her own, and the two of them walked off like people drunk. He came down from the roof of the high palace, her hand in his, a tall branch in his hand. They came to a golden painted room, into that royal chamber. It was a paradise, adorned and full of light, servants standing ready and a beauty before them. Zal the fair remained lost in wonder at that face, that hair, that stature and grace, with her bracelets, her necklace, her earrings, of gold and jewels like a spring garden. Her two cheeks like tulips among jasmine, her curling locks fold upon fold. And Zal, with the splendor of a king of kings, seated in glory beside that moon. A dagger slung across his chest, a crown of red rubies upon his head. There were kisses and embraces and wine, yet the lion did not seize its prey. The warrior spoke to that moon faced girl: 'You silver bodied cypress, sweet in color and scent,' 'if Manuchehr hears this story, he will not consent to this affair.' 'And Sam, son of Nariman, will raise a cry; he will boil over at me for this.' 'But this soul and body are not so precious. I will count them cheap and wrap myself in a shroud.' 'I have promised my just Judge that I will never break my pledge to you.' 'I will go before God and praise Him, and pray like those who worship the Lord,' 'that He may wash the hearts of Sam and the king of the land clean of anger and strife and hatred.' 'May the Maker of the world hear my words, so that you may become my wife openly.' Rudabeh said to him: 'I too, in the same way, have made a promise before the Judge of faith and creed,' 'that no one shall be king over me, with the Maker of the world as witness to my word,' 'no one but the champion of the world, Zal the fair, who has throne and crown and beauty and grace.' Their love grew greater by the moment; reason was far off, and longing near. So it went until dawn rose from its place and the drum sounded from the royal tents. Then the daylight bade that moon farewell, weaving warp and weft of him upon herself. From the height Zal threw down his lasso and climbed down from the palace of his blessed love.

When the bright sun rose over the mountain, the warriors set out together, all as one. At dawn they came to see the great champion, and from there they took up the road. The commander sent for a caller to summon the wise and noble men. The learned minister with his priests, the proud warriors and blessed sages, came to the champion with joy, all clear of mind and full of wisdom. Then Dastan, son of Sam, opened his tongue freely, his lips full of smiles, his heart content. First he offered praise to the Lord of the world, waking the priest's heart from its sleep. He said: because of the just and pure Judge, our hearts are full of hope, of fear, of awe. Hope in His mercy, fear of our own sin, and close attention to His commands, to praise Him as best we can, and stand before Him bowed, night and day. He is the Lord of the turning sun and moon, the one who guides the soul toward good. By Him this joyful world stands firm; He is the giver and the judge in both worlds. He brings the spring, the summer, and the autumn, and fills the vines with fruit. At times He keeps it young, with color and scent; at times you see it old, its face gone grim. No one steps beyond His will and command; without Him even an ant leaves no track on the earth. When He created the tablet and the pen, He wrote the mark of all that would ever be. He made the world grow through pairing, for from a single thing no increase comes. From the high heavens the point comes down: this, at its root, is the whole of the world. Time is made beautiful by human beings, and through them all worth and wealth gain their value. If there were no mate in the world, all power would stay hidden away. And more: by the very foundation of God's faith, I have never seen youth remain in place. Especially one born of a great line: if he stays without a mate, he is left barren. What is finer than a young champion whose soul is made bright by a child? And when his time to depart draws near, in his child his new day returns to him. A name lives on in the world through the child: this one is the son of Zal, and that the son of Sam. By him the crown and throne are adorned; the name has gone with the one, and the good fortune stays with the other. Now all this is my own story; it is the rose and narcissus of my garden. For patience and reason have fled from me; tell me, what remedy is fit for this? I would not have spoken of this had I not grown sick with grief, my mind and reason weakened. Mehrab's whole palace is the sun of my love; its ground is like the turning sky to me. My heart has surrendered to Sindokht's daughter. What will people say about this yielding of Sam? Suppose King Manuchehr accepts it, perhaps he will call it youth, or perhaps a sin. Whether great or humble, once a man takes a wife, he turns his face toward faith and custom. A wise man has no quarrel with this: it is the way of religion, and it brings no shame. What will the far-seeing priest say now? What do the learned ones know of this matter? The priests and elders sealed their lips; speech was locked on the mouths of the wise. For Zahhak was Mehrab's ancestor, and the king's heart was full of suspicion toward them. No one dared to speak openly, for no one has heard honey paired with a sting. When the commander heard no word from them, he grew restless and laid the ground for a new plan. I know that when you look into this, you will blame me for holding such a view. Yet whoever is high in spirit must be ready to hear plenty of reproach. If you can guide me in this, and open a way out of this bind for me, I will do such things for you in this world as no great man has ever done for lesser men. Through goodness, kindness, and honesty, I will never let harm come to you from any wrong. All the priests prepared their answer, and all wished for his comfort and his will. We are your servants, each and every one, and not only from wonder do we bow our heads. As for Mehrab, though he is not of this same rank, he is great, valiant, and of no small worth. It is known that he springs from the dragon's line, even though he rules over the Arabs. If the king's mind does not turn to distrust, no shame will come upon your house from him. A letter should be sent to the great champion, framed just as you know how, with a clear soul. Your wisdom is greater than ours, your soul and your judgment more thoughtful. Perhaps he will send a letter to the king and win his opinion over. Manuchehr, sharing the view of Sam the rider, will not turn away from such a matter along the road. The commander summoned his scribe and poured out all that filled his heart. He ordered a letter to Sam, full of good tidings, greetings, and grace throughout. At the head of the writing he spread his praise to the Just One who created the world. From Him comes joy, from Him comes strength, the Lord of Saturn, Venus, and the Sun. Lord of what is and Lord of what is not; we are all servants, and God is One. From Him, greetings upon Sam son of Nariman, master of the mace, the sword, and the helmet, who spurs his dark grey horse into the dust of battle, who feeds the vultures on the field of war. The one who stirs up the storm of the battlefield, who scatters blood from the black clouds. He who lays claim to the crown and the golden belt, who set Zal upon the throne of gold. In manhood he built skill upon skill, and raised up wisdom above all his talents. I stand before him like a servant; my soul and heart are filled with love for him. From the moment my mother bore me, as everyone saw, the turning heavens heaped cruelty upon me. My father lived in comfort, in silk and fine brocade, while the Simorgh carried me off to the mountains of India. My only need was met by whatever prey she brought, and she counted me among her own chicks. The cold wind scorched the skin from my body; hour after hour the dust sealed shut my eyes. They called me the son of Sam, yet Sam sat on his throne while I lay in a nest. Since God set things in motion this way, that was the course the turning wheel of fate would take. No one escapes what God decrees, even if he flies up and vanishes into the clouds. Though the brave man grips his spear so hard it splits a lion's hide with its roar, he is still bound by God's command, even if his teeth were made of iron. A matter has come upon me that breaks my heart, one I cannot boast of before any gathering. My father is brave, a fierce dragon of a man; it is right that he should hear his servant's secret. I weep over the daughter of Mehrab; I am roasting, as if on a raging fire. The stars of the dark night are my only companions; I am one whose whole share is a sea of tears. I have brought myself to such misery that any who saw it would weep for me. Though my heart has borne so much cruelty, I dare not breathe a word except at your command. What now does the champion of the world command, so I may free my soul from this pain and hardship? Perhaps my father, the commander, will not break his promise, and will grant his consent to this: that I may take Mehrab's daughter as my wife, honestly, according to faith and custom. For such a promise was made before the assembly, when they brought me back from the Alborz mountain: that he would never deny my heart any wish. This is now what my heart is set upon. A rider swift as lightning set out from Kabul toward Sam, with two horses. He commanded and said: If one horse still has strength left, you must not pause for even a moment. Set your foot upon the other and ride on; keep galloping like this until you reach the hero. The messenger outran the wind before him; beneath him his gray mount turned to steel. When he neared the land of Gorgsaran, the commander caught sight of him from afar. He was riding around a mountainside, urging on his hunting leopard while the game fled before him. He spoke this way to those who shared his sorrows, to the seasoned riders who stood beside him: A rider is coming at full gallop from Kabul, his Zabuli mount stepping proudly beneath him. He must surely be Zal's messenger; we should learn his news at once. We must ask for word of Zal, of Iran, and of the king himself. In that very moment the rider approached him, the famous letter held in his hand. He dismounted and kissed the ground, and called down many blessings on the Creator of the world. Sam greeted him and took the letter; the messenger delivered what he had to say. The commander broke the letter's seal and came down from the high mountain's peak. He read through all of Zal's words, then withered and sat frozen where he was. Such a wish did not please him; he would have wanted his son to be otherwise. He answered this way: it has become clear that this desire fits the nature of his lineage. When a fierce hunting bird is your teacher, this is the kind of longing you learn to seek from life. The one who came home from the hunt now carries a long worry in his heart. He kept saying: if I tell him this is not wise, and say, do not act on impulse, turn instead to reason, then before the kings and the chief of the council I become a man of rash words who breaks his promise. But if I say yes, your wish is granted, empty your heart of longing and take what you desire, then from this bird-raised son and that demon-born girl, what kind of offspring, tell me, will come forth? His head grew heavy with the heart's worry; he lay down but found no rest in it. The harder a matter presses on a servant, the more wounded his heart and the more frail his body, yet in secret the way opens wider when the Maker of the world gives his command.

When he rose from sleep, he gathered the priests and held a council with his wise men. He put the question to the astrologers: how will this matter finally turn out? Two natures, like water and fire, have been mixed together at the root of cruelty. Surely, on the day of reckoning, Fereydun and Zahhak will clash in battle. Search the stars and give me an answer; let all your findings be marked as fortunate. The astrologers, through the long day, kept searching the sky for its secret. They saw, and came forward smiling: the two enemies have met their good fortune. The astrologer said to Sam, son of Nariman: O warrior with the golden belt, here is glad news of Mehrab's daughter and Zal: the two of them shall be a joyful match. From these two gifted ones a raging elephant of a son will come, who will gird himself with courage. With his sword he will bring the world under his feet and set the king's throne above the clouds. He will wipe the trace of evildoers from the earth; on the face of the ground no pit will remain. Neither Sagsar nor Mazandaran will survive; with his heavy mace he will scour the land clean. He will lull the head of the afflicted into sleep and shut off the way of war and harm. In him the people of Iran will place their hope; from him the champion will have joy and good tidings. Wherever he drives his warhorse to battle, a fighting leopard will rub its face on the ground before him. Happy the king in whose age the world carries his name for its kingship. When he heard the astrologer's words, he smiled and gave them his thanks. He gave them boundless gold and silver, for calm had come at a time of dread. He summoned Zal's messenger before him and spoke with him of many things. He told him: say to Zal, kindly, that this wish had no proper cause, but since such a pact was made at the start, one should not seek a pretext for injustice. Now, at dawn, from this battlefield I will march my army toward the land of Iran. He gave the messenger some coins and told him: do not breathe a needless word of this. He sent him off and set out on the road himself, the army and its general glad of the outcome. They bound a thousand of those wolf-headed men and led them away on foot, wretched and shamed. When two parts of the dark night had passed, the clamor of riders rose from the plain. The wail of the war drum and the horn rose from the vestibule of the royal tent. The general marched toward the land of Iran, leading his army to the brave ones. The messenger came running to Zal, bearing triumphant luck and a happy omen. Zal gave praise to the Creator for that gift of fortune's turning. He gave coins and gold to the poor and showed kindness to his own people.

Between the great commander and that cypress-slender girl there was a woman, a sweet-spoken messenger. She carried word to the hero, and from the hero back to the graceful girl. The commander Dastan summoned her and told her all that he had heard. He said: Go to Rudabeh and tell her, You who are kind-hearted, my new moon, When words are driven to the tightest, hardest place, you will soon find the key to their release. The messenger returned from Sam's family with joy and a blessed message. Much was said and heard, many tales exchanged, and in the end he agreed to the match. He quickly gave the woman his answering letter, and she left his presence and carried it away. She came to Rudabeh swift as the wind and gave her this happy news. The fairy-faced girl showered coins upon the woman and seated her on a golden chair. She brought out a headscarf of fine silk, its threads and weave so delicate they vanished from sight. It was all red rubies and gold, the gold itself lost beneath the gems. And a pair of precious rings, gleaming like Jupiter shining in the sky, She sent to Dastan, son of Sam, along with many greetings and a message. As the woman passed from the chamber to the hall, Sindokht happened to look up and see her. The woman turned pale as wax with fear, and in her dread she kissed the ground. Sindokht's mind grew heavy with suspicion, and she said aloud: Tell me where you have come from. Time and again you slip past me, entering my daughter's chamber without a glance at me. My clear heart has grown mistrustful of you; tell me the truth, whether the bow is strung or unstrung. The woman said: I am one who scrapes a living, gathering my bread from many doors. Rudabeh asked me for ornaments here in this chamber, and I gave them to her, that is all, it is the truth. I brought her a decorated crown and a ring set with royal jewels. Sindokht said: Then show them to me, and unbind my heart from its worries. The woman said: I handed those two things to Rudabeh; she asked for more, so I will bring them too. She said: Set the price before me, pour a little cooling water on my anger. As for the coins, the moon-faced girl will pay tomorrow; until I receive the price, do not ask me for it. Sindokht sensed her words were crooked, and set her heart to confront her. She came and searched her, her breast and her sleeves, looking for the lie and the deceit. In her anger the woman filled with grief, and Sindokht dragged her scornfully to the ground. When she saw those costly garments and recognized the jewels as gifts from Rudabeh, She shut herself alone within the palace, drunk with the weight of her thoughts. She ordered her daughter brought before her, striking her own face in distress. With her drowsy, narcissus eyes she washed the two roses of her cheeks until they glistened. She said to Rudabeh: You proud moon, out of your willfulness you have chosen a pit over a throne. What kindness in this world have I withheld, that I did not show you openly and in secret? Why have you turned so cruel, moon-faced girl? Tell all your secrets to your mother. Whose house does this woman come from? Why does she keep coming to you? What is behind these words, and who is the man worthy of the headscarf and the rings? From the great treasury of the Arab king's crown, much profit and much loss have come to us. You have thrown our good name to the wind by this scandal; may no daughter like mine ever be born. Rudabeh stared at the ground and at her own feet, struck dumb before her mother's rage. Tears of love spilled from her eyes, and her cheeks were painted red with weeping. She said to her mother: You who are wise, love has crushed the very life within me. Better that my blessed mother had never borne me, and no talk of my good or ill had ever risen. The commander Dastan stayed in Kabul, and such love for him set me on fire. The world grew so narrow around my heart that I wept both openly and in secret. I will not stay alive without his face; the whole world is not worth a single hair of his. Know that he saw me and sat with me, and we clasped hands in a pledge, hand in hand. A messenger was sent to great Sam, and mighty Zal sent back his answer. For a while there was hesitation, then approval; the necessary words were spoken and heard. Much was given to the messenger, and I too heard all of Sam's reply. It was by the hand of this same woman, whose hair you tore, whom you threw down and dragged along the ground, That the messenger brought the letter; these very clothes were my answer to that letter. Sindokht was struck silent by this speech, and it pleased her that Zal should be her daughter's mate. She answered: This is no folly, for no one among the nobles is like Dastan. The son of the world's great hero is himself great in name and in bright clear judgment. He has every virtue, and only one flaw, so slight it fades before all his merits. The king of the world will be enraged by this, and raise the dust of Kabul up to the sun. He will not want anyone from our line, our lowly stock, to set foot in the saddle of power. She let the woman go and treated her kindly, and made it seem she had never recognized her. She saw Rudabeh so deep in her secret love that she would heed no one's counsel in the world. She lay down weeping from her grief; you would think her very skin had split upon her body.

When Mehrab came home from the court, cheerful, he kept mentioning Zal again and again. He found the noble Sindokht lying down, her face withered, her heart troubled. He asked, 'Tell me, what has happened to you? Why has that face, like a rose petal, wilted?' She answered Mehrab, 'A long train of thoughts has taken hold of my heart.' 'Thoughts of this flourishing palace and all this wealth, of these fine Arabian horses so well arrayed,' 'of these servants who honor their lord, of this crown and this royal seat,' 'of our own faces and our tall, cypress forms, of our name, our wisdom, and our judgment.' 'Upon all this splendor and this rectitude, time, moment by moment, brings decay.' 'Against our will, it must all be handed to an enemy; all our striving must be counted as wind.' 'A narrow coffin is our final share, a tree whose antidote turns out to be our poison.' 'We planted it, watered it with hardship, and hung crown and treasure from its branches.' 'And just as it rose to the sun and gave shade, the head of its owner sank into the dust.' 'This is our end and our conclusion; who knows where our rest will finally be.' Mehrab said to Sindokht, 'You bring this up as if it were new, but it never grows old.' 'This transient dwelling has always been like this; the wise have always dreaded it.' 'One person enters as another departs, no true crossing, for the wheel keeps trampling us.' 'It shows no change for our joy or grief; there is no fighting the just Creator over this.' Sindokht said to him, 'This tale wears another face in ancient meaning.' 'A wise, fortunate sage once told his child the parable of the tree.' 'I told the parable so that, through reason, the lord would weigh my words.' The graceful cypress bent her head, the narcissus wept dew onto the red rose. 'The heavens do not turn overhead the way we wish them to, O wise one.' 'Know this: the son of Sam has secretly laid every kind of snare for Rudabeh.' 'He has led her clear heart astray; we must find some remedy.' 'I gave her much advice, but it did no good; I see her heart bewildered and her face pale.' When Mehrab heard this, he sprang to his feet and laid his hand on his sword. His body shook, his face went pale as lapis, his liver full of blood, his heart full of cold sighs. He kept saying, 'I will make Rudabeh's blood run over the face of the earth this very moment.' Seeing this, Sindokht leapt up and wrapped both arms around his waist. She said, 'Hear now one word from your humble one, and lend it a little of your ear.' 'After that, do whatever your judgment tells you, whatever your soul and reason guide you to.' He twisted away and flung her aside, and let out a roar like a maddened elephant. 'When my daughter was born,' he cried, 'her head should have been cut off at once.' 'I did not kill her; I strayed from my forefathers' way, and now she has worked such alchemy against me.' 'A son who turns from his father's path, the brave will not reckon him as his father's own.' 'This is both a threat to my life and a place of shame; why do you hold my head back from battle?' 'If the hero Sam, together with King Manuchehr, gain the upper hand over us,' 'smoke will rise from Kabul up to the sun; nothing will remain, no dwelling, no field, no harvest.' Sindokht said to the lord of the land, 'Do not turn your tongue idly to this matter.' 'Sam the horseman has already learned of this, so hold no fear or grief or hardship in your heart.' 'He has returned from the land of Gorgsaran because of this; the matter is out in the open now, it is no secret.' Mehrab said, 'O moon-faced one, do not speak a single crooked word to me.' 'How can it ever fit with reason that the dust should command the wind?' 'My heart would not ache over this at all, if I could find safety from harm.' 'For who could imagine that Sam the horseman would want kinship reaching from Ahvaz to Kandahar?' Sindokht said to him, 'O proud one, may I never need to speak a crooked word.' 'Your harm is plainly my own harm; your grieving heart is my chain.' 'This is how it is, and it has become clear to me; this same fear I had from the very start.' 'If it turns out so, it is no strange thing that we must take on so many worries.' 'Fereydun became king through the daughters of Yemen's Sarv; the world-seeking Dastan has chosen this same path.' 'Whenever a stranger becomes your kin, the mind of your ill-wisher grows dark.' Then the renowned man commanded Sindokht, 'Rise and bring Rudabeh before me.' Sindokht feared that hot-tempered man, that in his anguish he might drag her into the dust. She said, 'First I want your promise,' and by her wits she washed the rancor from his heart. The famed man gave Sindokht his word that he would do no harm to Rudabeh's face. She said to him, 'Consider: the king of the earth may fill his heart with hatred toward us over this.' 'Then neither land nor home, nor mother nor father will remain; Rudabeh will be brought low, wiped out like water spilled.' When Sindokht heard this, she bowed her head before him and pressed her face to the ground. She came to her daughter with laughing lips, her radiant, day-bright face open beneath dark hair. She gave her the good news: the warlike leopard had drawn in his claws before the fierce wild ass. 'Now quickly take off your finery and go, weeping anew, before your father.' Rudabeh said to her, 'What is finery? Where the true treasure is at stake, what use are trinkets?' 'My soul is wedded to the son of Sam; why must I hide what is already plain?' She went before her father like the eastern sun, drowned in rubies and gold. She was an adorned paradise, all decoration, like the shining sun in a joyful spring. When her father saw her, he stood amazed, and quietly called upon the Creator of the world. He said to her, 'You whose mind is emptied of wisdom, how could this befit one of noble blood,' 'that a fairy should be wedded to a demon? May you have neither crown nor ring.' When Rudabeh heard those words, she grew grim and turned pale as saffron. She lowered her dark lashes over her grieving eyes and did not breathe a word. Her father, his heart full of anger and his head full of war, went off roaring like a leopard. The lovesick daughter went to her chamber, her rouged cheeks flecked with gold. Both of them took refuge in God, this lovesick moon of a girl, and the lord of the court alike.

Then word reached the great king about Mehrab, and about mighty Sam's son, Dastan. About the bond with Mehrab and the love of Zal, and how unequal lines had become equal. Talk of every kind went on with the priests, before the proud king of nobles. The king said to his wise men: this thing turns our days dark. When by counsel and by war I freed Iran from the claws of lion and leopard, Fereydun washed the world clean of Zahhak; I fear a shoot may rise again from that seed. It must not be that, foolishly, out of love for Zal, an equal is brought low by an equal. For from Mehrab's daughter and Sam's son a sharp sword may leap from the sheath. If the child turns toward his mother's side, idle talk may lead his head astray. He would fill Iran's land with chaos and grief, and the crown and treasure might pass back to that line. All the priests spoke their blessings and called him a king of pure faith. They said: you are wiser than we are, and stronger in doing what must be done. Do whatever fits with reason; it was wisdom that once crushed the dragon's heart. He ordered Nozar brought before him, along with his intimates and nobles. He told him: go to Sam the horseman and ask him how his campaign went. When you see him, tell him to come this way, to turn his thoughts toward our court and home. At once the king's son rose and set out on the road with his chosen men. They turned their faces toward Sam, son of Nariman, with battle-ready war elephants. When Sam the hero learned of this, he went out to welcome the young prince who was heir to the king. The famed Nozar came from his father's court to Sam the horseman. All the great men came to meet them, with war elephants and drums. Then the nobles and the famed prince Nozar reached Sam the horseman. Prince Nozar delivered his father's message, and Sam the hero was glad to see him. He answered: I will obey; seeing him will bring joy to my soul. They laid the feast and took up the cups, and drank first to Manuchehr's name. Then to Nozar and Sam and every lord, and every land shared in the joy. The long night passed in celebration, until the shining sun uncovered its secret. The roar of drums rose at the gate; the bold, swift camels spread their pace. Toward King Manuchehr's court, at his command, they took the road. When Manuchehr had word of him, he arrayed the royal crown. A clamor rose from Sari and Amol, like a green sea coming to a boil. The javelin-throwers formed their ranks and marched out with heavy spears. An army of men from hill to hill, shields locked in shields, red and gold. With kettledrums, brazen horns and cymbals, with Arab horses, elephants and treasure. In this fashion the troops came out to meet him, many with banners and drums. When he drew near the court, he dismounted, and the king made way for him. When the world-ruling king showed his face, Sam kissed the ground and came before him. Manuchehr rose from his ivory throne, a crown of glittering ruby on his head. He seated him beside himself on the throne and honored him as befitted him. And about those wolf-headed warriors, and those fierce demons of Mazandaran, he asked, and grieved much over it; the commander recounted the tale point by point. Saying: may you live sweetly forever, O king; may the malice of the ill-wishers be cut from your life. I marched on that city of the fierce demons, not demons only, but fighting lions at their side, swifter than Arab racing horses, braver than the champions of Iran, an army they call the Dog-heads, who show themselves like war-leopards. When they got word of me, my very voice emptied their skulls of sense. They raised a howl within the city, then abandoned the whole city. They all came at me seeking battle, so frantic, rushing back and forth. The army surged, the day grew dark; they closed up from behind and drew before the cave. A grandson of the world-ruler, great Salm, came before the army like a wolf. An army like ants and locusts; neither plain nor hill nor crag could be seen. When the dust rose from that dense host, the faces of our famed men went pale. I took up this mace for a single blow and left the army standing right there. From the saddle I gave one great roar, and the ground turned under them like a millstone. The army took heart again and, all of them, set their minds on the fight. When Kakuy heard my voice and felt the head-splitting blow of my mace, he came at me armed for battle, like a raging elephant with a long lasso. He tried to catch me in the coils of his lasso; when I saw it, I swerved from harm's way. I took the royal bow in hand, with steel-tipped arrows of poplar shaft. I spurred my swift eagle of a horse and poured arrows on him like fire. I thought his head was an anvil, but the shaft was stitched from brain to helmet. I looked, and out of the dust, like a drunken elephant, one rose with an Indian blade in hand. I thought, O king, that even a mountain would beg him for its life. He in haste, I in patience, I kept watching to see when he would fall into my grip. When the proud man came near me, I stretched out my hand from the horse. I seized the brave man's belt and tore him from the saddle like a lion. I dashed him to the ground like a raging elephant, with this iron hand and warrior's waist. When their leader was cast down so basely, the army turned its back on the battle. Down slopes and up, through desert and hill, in every direction the men scattered in droves. When they were counted, twelve thousand fallen, horse and foot, were reckoned up. When the king heard the commander's words, he raised his happy crown high as the moon. When the day, worn out by struggle, gave way to night, it withdrew wearily behind the mountain. He set out wine and feasting and grew merry; he saw the world cleansed of the evil of ill-wishers. With drinking they made the night short, and opened their lips in praise of the commander. When night became day, they drew back the curtain of the court and gave Sam passage to the king. The mighty commander Sam came before the great king Manuchehr. The king of the world said to Sam: set out from here with your chosen nobles, kindle fire in India, burn down the whole palace of Mehrab and all of Kabul. He must not escape from his evil, this one who remains from the dragon's brood. Time and again an uproar rises from him; the settled world fills with war and turmoil. Everyone bound to him, all the great ones of his party, cut their heads from their bodies and wash the earth clean of Zahhak's line and his kin. Sam answered: I will do just so, and drive the grudge from the king's heart. He kissed the throne and pressed his face against the king's famous seal-ring. He set out for home with his army, searching the road on those swift-footed mounts.

Word reached Mehrab and Dastan that the king and the general had gone to war. Zal set out from Kabul, roaring, his lip drooping and his neck stretched high in fury. He said: even if a savage dragon should come to burn the whole world with its breath, and reach out to lay waste to Kabulistan, my own head must be the first to fall. He came before his father, his heart full of blood, his mind heavy with thought, his head full of words to say. When the brave Sam was told that the son, a young fierce lion, was on his way, the whole army rose to its feet and raised the banner of Fereydun. They beat the drums to go and welcome him, and the troops and their commander went out to meet him. The backs of the elephants were draped in colorful banners, adorned in red, yellow, and violet. When Zal, son of Sam, saw his father's face, he got down from his horse and walked forward on foot. The nobles dismounted on both sides, both those who serve a leader and those who seek one. Brave Zal kissed the ground, but his father was slow to speak with him. He mounted his tawny Arab horse, like a golden, gleaming, towering mountain. All the nobles came up to him, full of concern and eager to talk. They said: your father is hurt by you; offer an apology, do not hold your head high. He answered: there is no fear in this; in the end nothing remains but dust. If my father brings wisdom into his mind, then no harsh word will follow another. But if he opens his tongue in anger, then out of shame I will bring tears to my eyes. So they came to Sam's court, their hearts open and their spirits glad. Sam the horseman got down from his mount and at once granted Zal an audience. When Zal came before his father, he kissed the ground and spread himself low before him. He offered praise to Sam the hero, wiping the roses of his cheeks with the water of his two narcissus eyes. He said: may the wakeful-hearted champion be joyful, may his soul always incline toward justice. Diamonds melt before your blade; the earth weeps beneath you on the day of battle. Wherever your dark horse strides on the day of war, hesitation seizes the enemy's army. Whatever sky has seen the wind of your mace could no longer hold up a single star. No lion treads the earth against your justice; your foundation is built on soul and wisdom. All people rejoice in your fair rule; from you the earth and the age receive justice. Except for me, who have no share in that justice, even though I am known as your own blood. I was raised by a bird and fed on dust; in this world I have no quarrel with anyone. I know of no fault in myself that would give anyone the right to blame me, except that Sam the hero is my father, and that I carry his talent along with his bloodline. When my mother gave me birth, you cast me out and made the mountain my dwelling place. You left the one who bore me to grief, and handed the one who raised you over to fire. You have no quarrel with the Creator of the world over why one color is black and another white. Now that the Creator of the world has raised me, look upon me with a godly, merciful eye. With treasure and throne and heavy mace, with counsel and crown and throne and chieftains, I settled in Kabul by your command, and kept faith with your wishes and your word, so that, if you sought vengeance, I would not grieve you: the tree you planted, I would bring to fruit for you. Is this the gift you send from Mazandaran, is this how you ride here from the land of the Gorgsaran, to lay my flourishing house in ruin? Is this the justice you would deal me? Here I stand before you; I have handed my body over to your anger. Cut me in two down the middle with a saw, but do not exchange one word with me about Kabul. When the commander heard Zal's words, he pricked up his ears and bowed his neck low. He told him: yes, this is the truth; your tongue bears witness to what is right. All my dealings with you were unjust; my enemies' hearts rejoiced at your expense. This is the very thing you wished from me; you rose up, your heart heavy with grief. Do not burn with anger; let me now arrange a remedy for you and set your affairs in order. I will have a letter written now to the king and send it in your hand, my well-wisher. I will call to mind whatever words are needed, and turn his heart and soul toward justice. If the ruler of the world is our ally, all our affairs will turn out as you desire. They seated the scribe before them, and spoke words on every matter. He began the letter with praise of God, who is and will forever remain. From Him come good and bad, being and nothingness; we are all servants, and God is one. Whatever He set in motion in creation, that is the course by which the turning wheel runs. The Lord of Saturn, the sun, and the moon; from Him, praise upon King Manuchehr, who in battle burns poison and antidote alike, and at the feast is a moon lighting the world. Wielder of the mace and conqueror of cities, giving everyone a share of joy; bearer of Fereydoun's banner into war, the proud slayer of the fighting leopard. From the wind of your mace the high mountain becomes dust scattered by your steed's horseshoes. A man of a pure heart and clean faith brings even the wolf and the sheep to drink together in peace. I am a servant who rose to high standing, who at sixty still stands firm in his manhood. Now my head is turning white as camphor; the sun and moon have made this my crown. Like a servant I tied my belt to duty and fought against demons that lived forever. A rider who reins hard, unhorses foes, and wields the mace, the world never saw a horseman like me. The champions of Mazandaran lost their nerve when I took up the heavy mace. If not for me, no mark of glory would stand in this world above the arrogant. That dragon that crawled out of the Kashaf river and turned the world to froth and ruin, its width stretched from one city to the next, its height rose from mountain to mountain. The whole world's heart was full of dread of it; day and night people kept watch. I saw the sky emptied of birds and the face of the earth emptied of beasts. Its heat scorched the vulture's feathers; the ground blazed beneath its venom. It would drag the fierce crocodile up from the water and pull the eagle down from the sky with its breath. The land was left without people or livestock; all of it surrendered its place to the dragon. When I saw there was no one in the world who dared lay a hand on it, by the strength of God, the pure ruler of the world, I cast every fear and dread from my heart. In the name of high honor I tied my belt and mounted that elephant-bodied steed. In my saddle a bull-headed mace, a bow on my arm, a shield at my neck. I set out like a fierce crocodile: mine were sharp claws, its was scorching breath. Everyone who heard I would raise my mace against the dragon bade me farewell. From head to tail it was tall as a mountain, dragging the hair of its head along the ground like a lasso. Its tongue was like a black tree, thrown open and flung across the road. Its two eyes like two pools brimming with blood; it saw me, roared, and rushed at me in fury. I thought, my king, that I was surely holding fire against my side. The world looked to my eyes like a sea, its dark smoke rising into black clouds. The face of the earth shook at its roar; the ground turned dark with venom like the China Sea. I raised a battle cry against it like a lion, as a brave man does his work. Without delay I loosed a diamond-tipped arrow of white poplar wood from the bow. When one side of its mouth was pinned shut, its tongue hung out in astonishment. At once I struck another arrow into its mouth the same way, and it writhed in pain. A third blow I struck at the middle of its jaws, and a river of blood welled up from its liver. When it drew the earth tight against me, I raised high this bull headed mace of vengeance. By the power of God, the lord of the world, I lifted that elephant bodied weapon from its place. I brought the ox faced mace down on its head, and it was as if the sky rained down a mountain upon it. I smashed its head like the body of a great elephant, and its venom poured out like the river Nile. It fell from that blow and never rose again; from its spilled brains the ground stood level with the hills. The Kashaf River ran full of blood and yellow bile, and the land became a place of peace and rest. All the mountain slopes filled with men and women, and they showered praise on me. A whole world watched that battle, for that dragon was a foul and monstrous thing. They named me 'Sam of the Single Blow,' and the world poured out gold and jewels before me. When I turned back from it, my bright body stood stripped bare of its famous armor. The horse's iron barding had crumbled away, and this remains true no matter how I insist otherwise. On that land, for years afterward, nothing grew but scorched eastern thorns. In this way and others, whatever I set my mind to, I brought the heads of chieftains down beneath my feet. Wherever I galloped my swift footed steed, the raging lion abandoned its lair. Now for how many years has the saddle been my throne, and the horse my ground? All the lands of the wolf headed and of Mazandaran I set right for you with my heavy mace. Not for a moment did I think of home; I wanted you noble, victorious, and glad. Now this neck of mine, once held so high, and this crushing blow of my war club, Are no longer what they were; my chest and waist have bent low. Time threw a lasso with its own hand and bound me upside down. Now we have handed the turn to Zal, who is fit for the warrior's belt and mace. He holds one wish hidden in his heart, and he will come to ask it of the king of the world. A wish that is good in the eyes of God, for all goodness lies under His command. We did nothing without the great king's counsel, for a servant should never grow arrogant. Surely the king, the guardian of my world, has heard of the promise between me and Zal, That I will never turn my head from his will in the slightest. In these days Zal made ready to come to me. He came before me with his cheeks smeared in blood, his very bones seeming to crack apart with grief. He said to me: you are heading for Amol, but it would suit you better to set out for Kabul. Since he was raised by the Simorgh bird in the mountains, he has become a mark of wonder among the people. In Kabul he sees a face like the moon, a slender cypress crowned with a rose garden. If he loses his mind, it is no wonder; the king should not hold a grudge against him for it. His pain of love has reached such a point that anyone who sees him is moved to pity. From all the suffering he saw fall on the innocent, things went just as the king had heard. I sent him off with a grieving heart; when he comes before your lofty throne, do what befits your greatness; wisdom is something no one needs to teach you. When the letter was written and the plan settled, Zal took it at once and rose to his feet. As the sun set its face toward the west, he neither slept nor rested until dawn. When night cast off its worn garments, the dawn smiled and opened its lips. He came and set his foot in the stirrup; the blare of the war trumpet rose up. He turned his face toward the king of kings, carrying the letter of noble-natured Sam.

When the story became known throughout Kabul, the ruler's head filled with rage. He flew into a fury and summoned Sindokht, unleashing all his anger over Rudabeh upon her. He told her: There is no other choice now, for I have no ground to stand on against the king of the world. I will bring you here with your daughter, that shameless girl, and put you both to a cruel death before the assembly, so that perhaps the king of Iran may be freed from this wrath and hatred, and the land may find peace again. For who in Kabul dares to fight Sam? Who would dare taste the blow of his mace? When Sindokht heard this, she sat down quietly, her mind searching, her heart set on a remedy. From her heart she drew a plan and put it in place, for she saw deeply and her wisdom kept growing. Then she came running, arms folded in respect, before her lord whose face shone like the sun. She said to him: Hear one thing from me, and if later another wish stirs in you, act on it then. If your wealth exists only for your own sake, then give it away, and know that this night is pregnant with what tomorrow will bring. However long the night may drag on, its darkness will not last forever. Day will come and grow bright as a spring, and the world will glow like a ruby of Badakhshan. Mehrab said to her: Do not tell me old tales fit for heroes. Say what you know and fight for your life, or else wrap yourself in a shroud of blood. Sindokht answered: O proud one, perhaps you will have no need of my blood. I must go to Sam, and I will unsheathe my tongue like a sword from its scabbard. I will tell him what deserves to be said; wisdom ripens raw words into meaning. The risk of my life will be mine, the wealth yours: hand over to me your finest treasure. Mehrab said: Take the keys; never let grief over treasure weigh on you. Deck out servants, horses, throne, and crown, and take them with you on the road. Perhaps then the city of Kabul will not be burned because of us; after it has withered, it may bloom again through us. Sindokht said: O renowned one, count wealth as nothing beside a living soul. You must not, while I am off seeking a remedy, turn your harshness upon Rudabeh. In all the world my one sorrow is for her; today I stand by you keeping my pledge to her. I do not grieve for myself; all this pain and sorrow of mine springs from her. First she took a firm oath from him, then bravely set out to seek a way through. She adorned herself in silk brocade and gold, her head crowned with pearls and precious rubies. Then from her store of gold, to give as tribute, she brought out some thirty thousand dinars. They led out thirty horses with golden bridles, some Arabian, some Persian. Sixty servants wearing golden collars, each with a golden goblet in hand, the cups full of musk and camphor, rubies and gold, and heaps of turquoise and other gems. Forty robes of brocade figured in gold, their borders worked with gems of every kind. Two hundred Indian swords hilted in gold and silver, and thirty more with blades tempered in poison, their steel gleaming. A hundred she-camels with reddish hair, and a hundred sure-footed pack mules for the road. A crown of royal jewels, together with a collar, bracelets, and earrings. A throne of gold as vast as the heavens, set with gems of many kinds, its royal breadth twenty spans, its height more than three hundred. And on four mighty Indian elephants they loaded all the robes and carpets.

When her plan was ready she mounted up, and like a warrior she girded her waist for the task. She set a Roman helmet on her head, with a horse beneath her swift as the wind. She came, proud and eager, to Sam's court, giving no cry and speaking no name. She told the watchmen to go at once and inform the great lord of the world, that an envoy had come from Kabul to the presence of the champion of Zabol, bearing a message from the warrior Mehrab to the world-conquering lord Sam. The chamberlain went in to the hero Sam, spoke, and by his order the envoy was granted audience. Sindokht dismounted and came forward, gliding swiftly toward the lord. She kissed the ground and offered praise for the king and for the champion of the earth. Gifts, servants, horses, and elephants stood lined up from the gate for two miles. One by one she presented them all before Sam; the champion was astonished at the sight. He sat lost in thought like a drunken man, his hand under his chin, his head bowed low, thinking: since a place holds such wealth as this, what custom is it to send a woman as envoy? If I accept all this wealth from her, the king who shepherds nations will be offended with me; but if I turn it back from before Zal, he will spread his wings and fly off like the Simorgh. He raised his head and said: this treasure, these slaves and richly adorned elephants, take them and give them to Dastan's treasurer, and grant them in the name of Kabul's lord. Fairy-faced Sindokht, standing before Sam, let her tongue speak on and her heart rejoice. When she saw the gifts accepted, saw good fortune arrived and evil gone, three lovely idol-faced maidens were there with her, jasmine-bodied and tall as cypresses, each holding a cup in her hand; she ordered them, once seated in place, to pour it out before the champion, mingling one drink with another. When they had settled matters with the champion, they cleared the house of strangers. Sindokht said to the champion: by your counsel an old man grows young again. The great ones learned wisdom from you; through you dark troubles were set alight and cleared. By your love the hand of evil is bound; by your mace the divine road is opened. If anyone was guilty, it was Mehrab, and his eyes have been drenched from the blood of his heart. What did the innocent people of Kabul do, that they should be swept away in the dust of war? The whole city lives only for you; they are your servants and the dust beneath your feet. Fear the One who created mind and might, who made shining Venus and the sun. Such an act would not please you; do not gird yourself for shedding blood. The hero Sam said to her: tell me the truth, and about what I ask make no excuses. Whether you rank below Mehrab or as his equal, where did Zal ever see that daughter of his? Tell me of her face, her hair, her manner and mind, so I may judge whether she is a fitting match. Of her stature, her looks, and her learning, describe her one by one just as you saw her. Sindokht said to him: champion, chief of champions and pillar of heroes, first I want a firm oath from you, one that makes land, region, and settlement tremble: that no harm will come from you to my life, nor to the one who is dear to me. I have a palace and a flourishing hall, treasures too, kinsmen, and a house. Once I feel safe, say whatever you wish; I will speak and seek, and I will keep my honor bright. All the hidden treasure of Kabul I will strive to send to Zabolestan, and besides that, whatever else is fitting the wise lord will receive from me. Then Sam took her hand in his, treated her kindly, and made the pledge. When Sindokht heard his oath, and knew his word true and his promise sound, she kissed the ground and rose to her feet, and told the truth of what had been hidden: I am kin to Zahhak, O champion, the wife of the warrior Mehrab of the bright soul, and the mother of moon-faced Rudabeh, for whom Zal keeps pouring out his life. Our whole household, before the pure God, from dark night until the day breaks open, has kept calling down blessings upon you, and upon the world-ruling king of the earth. Now I have come to learn what your wish is: from Kabul, who is your enemy and who your friend? If we are guilty and of ill nature, and unworthy of this kingdom's grace, here I stand before you, sorrowful: kill me if you will kill, bind me if you will bind. Do not burn the hearts of Kabul's innocent, whose day has already turned to darkness. When the champion heard her words, he saw a woman of judgment and clear spirit, with cheeks like spring and stature like a cypress, a waist slender as a reed and the walk of a pheasant. He answered thus: my pledge holds firm, even if my very life should break. You and Kabul and all who are joined to you, may you remain glad of heart and sound of body. I also agree that Zal should seek in all the world a match like Rudabeh. Though you are of another lineage, you are still worthy of the crown and throne. Such is the way of the world, and there is no shame in it; there is no fighting against the Maker of the world. He creates as He wills; we pass away, and we remain here with our weeping. One is on the heights, one in the depths; one enjoys abundance, one lives in dread. One has a heart adorned by increase, another's heart worn thin by lack. I wrote a letter, full of a suffering man's plea, to the lofty king. Golden Zal went to Manuchehr, and it was as if he had sprouted wings and taken flight. He leapt into the saddle without even glancing at it, and his horse's hooves did not seem to touch the ground. To this the king will give Zal his answer, and once he smiles he will set his blessed judgment on it, saying: the bird's foster child has lost his heart; from the water of his tears his feet are stuck in mud. If the bride's love is like his, then it is right that they should both leap out of their skins with longing. Show me too the face of that dragon's child, and take from me whatever price you ask. Sindokht said to him: if the champion would make his servant glad and bright of spirit, and let his horse gallop into my palace, my head would rise to the high heavens. We would bring such a lord as you into Kabul, and all of us would lay down our lives before him. Sam saw Sindokht's lips full of smiles, and saw every root of malice torn from his own heart. She sent off a bold courier, swift as the wind, and gave Mehrab the good news: do not think of any evil thoughts at all; make your heart glad and prepare for a guest. Right behind this letter I am coming, hastening; I will not waste a moment on the road. On the second day, when the fountain of the sun stirred and the head woke from sleep, the noble Sindokht set her face toward the court of the crown-seeking lord. A murmur of respect rose from Sam's court; they called her by her title, chief of ladies. She came before Sam and made her obeisance, and spoke with him at length. She sought leave to return home, and to go rejoicing to the lord of Kabul, to prepare for the new guest, and to show her son-in-law the new pact. The hero Sam told her: turn back and go; tell Mehrab all that you have seen. They arranged a robe of honor worthy of her, choosing the most precious things from the treasury. Then everything Sam owned in Kabul: palace and garden, planting and harvest, along with milk-giving livestock, and carpets and clothing too, he gave to Sindokht; he took her hand in his and made yet another pledge. He accepted her daughter for Zal, that the two might live happily as a matched pair. He gave her two hundred proud warriors and men, and told her: do not linger here. Be in Kabul and live in joy; from now on, fearful of ill, fear evil no more. That withered moon of a face blossomed again, and under a lucky star they set out on the road.

Then word reached the king that Zal, son of Sam, had come riding along the road. All the great chiefs, the marks of royal power, rode out to welcome him. When he drew near the court, they quickly opened a path for him to the king. As he approached the king, he bowed to the ground, kissed it, and praised the throne. For a while he kept his face pressed to the dust, until the gracious king gave him his heart. He ordered that Zal's face be wiped clean of dust and sprinkled with musk. Zal came before the noble king's throne, and the lofty ruler asked after him: 'How have you fared, brave and generous warrior, on this hard road through wind and dust?' He said, 'Under your glory all is well; beside you every hardship turns to joy.' The king took the warrior's letter from him, and smiled, glad and bright of soul. When he had read it, he answered thus: 'You have added a long grief to my heart.' 'Yet with this heartfelt letter, which old Sam wrote out of the sorrow of his heart,' 'though it leaves my heart heavy, I decide I will not fret over great matters or small.' 'I will arrange things and fulfill all your wishes, if this is what will bring you peace.' 'For a while, stand firm in gladness, until I settle your affair with sound judgment.' The cooks brought in a table of gold, and the king of kings sat down with Zal the fair. He commanded that all the famous men take their places at the royal feast, the whole company. When they had finished with the king's table, they set out another place for the wine. When the wine was drunk, the renowned son of Sam mounted his horse with its golden bridle. He rode off and measured out the length of the night, his heart full of thought, his lips full of words. At dawn he came, his belt fastened, before the victorious Manuchehr. The king of the world blessed him, and when Zal turned away, he praised him in secret.

He ordered the priests and the wise elders, the astrologers and the learned men, to gather before the high throne and study the secrets of the heavens. They went and labored long, trying to learn what mystery the stars held. For three days they worked without rest, then returned with the astronomical tables in hand. They spoke to the king: 'We have reckoned the turning heavens.' The verdict of the stars is clear: this bright stream will flow on. From Mehrab's daughter and Sam's son a proud, noble champion will be born. His life will be long; he will have strength, dignity, and glory. Tall and broad, with mighty shoulders and neck; in war and at the feast he will have no equal. When his warhorse breaks into a sweat, the hearts of his enemies will run dry with fear. No eagle will dare fly above his helmet; he will count the great lords of the world as nothing. He will be tall, imposing, and glorious, snaring even lions in the loop of his lasso. With his sword he will make the very air weep, and roast a wild ass whole on the fire. He will be the trusted servant of kings, and to Iran a refuge for its riders.

Then the proud king spoke and said: keep everything you have told me a secret. At that moment the king summoned Zal, wanting to draw out words from him. So that they might ask him several things, along with these hidden riddles of old. The wise men, clear of heart, sat down, and Zal beside the renowned priests. A priest questioned Zal, this sharp minded, farseeing wise man. He asked about twelve tall cypress trees that have grown up fresh and full of grace. Each of them has put out thirty branches, and in this land they never grow more or less. Another priest said: proud one, there are two precious, swift running horses. One of them is like a sea of pitch, the other like glistening white crystal. They both move and both are always racing, yet neither one ever catches the other. A third one said: those thirty riders who pass before the king, one goes missing when you count them, but when you look again they are thirty once more. A fourth one said: that meadow you see, full of greenery and running streams, a huge man with a sharp, great scythe comes striding into the meadow. He mows down all the grass, dry and green alike, and never lifts his head from that work. Another said: those two tall cypresses rising like reeds from a stormy sea, a bird has its nest upon them; its perch is on one by night, on the other by day. When it flies from one, that tree's leaves wither and dry; when it settles on the other, that one gives off the scent of musk. Of the two, one is always green and fresh, the other faded and in mourning. Another asked: on a mountainside I found a solid, well built city. The people leave that city and settle instead in a thornfield on the open plain. They raise buildings that reach the moon; they turn to worship and to lofty halls. The old city no longer crosses their minds; no one bothers to speak or remember it. Then suddenly a great earthquake rises, and their land and dwellings vanish completely. Now they feel their need for that old city, and it stirs in them long, lingering thoughts. Seek the true meaning of these words behind the veil, and speak it openly before the nobles. If you bring these secrets into the open, you will turn black earth into pure musk.

For a while Zal the golden-haired sank into thought, then straightened his neck and spread his shoulders wide. After that he opened his tongue to answer, recalling every question the priests had asked. First, about the twelve tall trees, each one raising thirty branches high: In one year there are twelve new moons, like a fresh king who ascends to a fresh throne. In thirty days the month completes its count; such is the turning of time. Now, what you said about the two horses, blazing like fire itself: They are the two colors of time, white and black, both racing swiftly one after the other. They are night and day, forever passing; the wheel of the sky counts out our breaths. Third, what you said about those thirty riders who passed before the king: One of those thirty riders vanishes, yet when you count, they still number thirty. You spoke of nothing but the waning of the moon, which now and then falls short by a single night. Now let me draw this next answer from its sheath: the two cypress trunks where a bird makes its nest, From the sign of Aries to Libra the world keeps darkness hidden within it, so that as the seasons turn toward autumn it fills with gloom and blackness. The two cypresses are the two arms of the high sky: half of the year is joyful, half is grieving. Know the flying bird upon them as the sun, and from it the world holds both its fear and hope. Next, the city upon the mountaintop is the abode of rest and the place of lasting peace. This thornfield is like a passing inn, from which come both luxury and treasure, and pain and toil. It counts out your breaths upon you; it both lifts you up and casts you down. A wind rises with an earthquake, and from the world come uproar and shrieking. All our labor stays behind in the thornfield; we must cross over toward the city on the mountain. Someone else reaps the fruit of our toil; it does not last for him either, it too passes on. So it has gone from the very beginning; it stays the same, and the old never turns new. If our provision is a good name, our souls will hold that name precious there. But if we practice greed and writhe with wanting, it shows only when we lie lifeless. Even if our palace lifts its head to Saturn, our share of it is a single burial shroud. When they cover our face with blood and dust, every place becomes fear, grief, and dread. The desert, and that man with the sharp scythe, before whom both green and withered tremble in their hearts: He mows down the fresh and the dry alike, and if you plead, he will not hear your words. The reaper is time, and we are like the grass; to him grandson and grandfather are the same. He does not look one by one at old or young; whatever prey comes his way, he cuts it down. This is the order and nature of the world: no one is born of a mother except for death. We enter by one door and leave by another; time counts out our breaths as we pass. When Zal had made these matters clear, the king's heart grew glad with him. The whole assembly bloomed with delight, and the king of the world cried out in praise. The king arranged a feast, as bright as the full moon of the fourteenth night. They drank wine until the world grew dark, and the heads of the drinkers reeled with it. The shout of the tall herald rose at last from the king's court. The heroes departed, all glad and merry, hand clasped in hand. When the sun's flame flashed from the mountains, the leaders lifted their heads from sleep. Zal the brave came with his belt girded, before the king like a fierce lion, asking permission to leave the court and go to his blessed father, the commander. He said to the king of the world: 'Kind-natured lord, I long to see the face of Sam.' 'I have kissed the foot of this ivory throne; my heart has grown bright before this crown and greatness.' The king said to him: 'Brave young champion, you must give me one more day.' 'Your longing has risen for Mehrab's daughter; where is Sam of Zabol in your heart's path?' He ordered the cymbals and Indian bells and the trumpets brought out onto the field, and with spear, mace, arrow, and bow the heroes all set off in high spirits. They took up their bows and their poplar arrows and set up targets as on a day of battle. Each turned his reins to some weapon: mace, sword, arrow, and lance. There was a broad tree on the king's field, over which many years and months had passed. Zal, son of Sam, drew back his bow, spurred his horse and made his name ring out. He struck the middle of the straight tree, and that royal arrow passed clean through it. Even at full gallop he loosed one more shaft and rode on like a fierce lion. The javelin men took up their shields and wheeled about with their heavy darts. Zal asked a shield from his young Turkish page, spurred his horse and lifted its mane. He cast aside the bow and seized the javelin, and with the javelin began a new kind of sport. He hurled the dart through three shields like a warrior of Gilan, split them and flung them lightly to the other side. The king of the world said to his proud warriors: 'Which of the great men will seek combat with him?' One took the field against him in battle, one who could raise dust with arrow and javelin. All the heroes drew their weapons, angry at heart but joking on their tongues. They rode to combat, reins twisting, with spears and tempered lance-points. So it went that man came against man; Zal spurred his horse and the dust rose. He looked to see which among them was a rider, rein-wheeling, proud, and renowned. Out of the dust he came like a crocodile and caught his rival's belt in his fist. He lifted him so easily from the saddle that the king and army were left astonished. The proud warriors said aloud: 'No one has ever seen a man of his mark.' 'Whoever seeks combat with him, he dresses in the blue robe of mourning.' 'No lion breeds such a champion; why count him a hero even among crocodiles?' 'Happy is Sam the hero, that such a keepsake, so brave a rider, remains for him in the world.' The great king praised him, and so did the renowned and mighty chiefs. The nobles came toward the king's palace, belts girded and crowns upon their heads. The king of the world prepared a robe of honor that left all the great men dazzled, with a costly crown and a throne of gold, with bracelets, a collar, and a golden belt, along with precious garments as well, servants, horses, and every kind of thing. At that time he handed them all to Zal the commander, every gift from one end to the other.

Then Sam wrote back an answer to that letter, marveling at the fine news of Farrokh's deeds. He wrote: You famous, brave champion, victorious as a lion in every task. The turning heavens have seen no one like you, in battle, in feasting, in wisdom, and in face. And the blessed son of Zal the horseman, who will leave his memory behind in the world. Your letter came, and from it I learned his wish, his desire, his counsel, and his peace of mind. Everything you longed for has come to pass, and Zal too has found his counsel and his rest. I have handed all my hopes over to him, and I count the days ahead as blessed because of him. From a lion whose prey is the leopard itself, what can be born but a fierce lion in war? I sent him off with a joyful heart; may the evil of the malicious stay far from him. Zal the golden-haired set out in good fortune, his head raised high above the army's champions. He sent a swift rider ahead to Sam: I have returned from the king, my heart content. With royal robes of honor and a crown, and armlets, a torque, and a throne of ivory. The champion grew so glad at that news that, old as he was, he felt young again. He quickly sent a rider off to Kabul, to tell Mehrab where matters had gone. Of the world-king's kindness, and of the joy that the great ones had shown. He said: As soon as Zal reaches me, we two will settle everything as is fitting. The king of Kabul grew so glad at this bond with the sun of Zabulistan, that it was as if they would give their very lives; from everywhere they summoned musicians. When Mehrab grew happy and bright in spirit, his lips broke into a smile and his heart rejoiced. He called the precious Sindokht before him and spoke many kind words to her. He said: My wife of blessed judgment, this dark place has been lit by your wisdom. You have grasped a branch on which the kings of the earth bestow their blessings. Just as you first arranged everything, so now you must see this matter through to its end. The whole treasury lies ready before you, whether it be the ivory throne or whatever you wish. When Sindokht heard him, she came back and went to her daughter, bearing the secret news. She brought her the good tidings of seeing Zal: You have found a match, just as one should. For a man or woman of noble spirit, it is right to lift the head above all reproach. You rushed eagerly toward your heart's desire, and now you have found all that you sought. Rudabeh said to her: My royal mother, worthy of praise in every gathering, I will make the dust of your feet my pillow; at your command I will adorn my very faith. May the eyes of demons stay far from you; may your heart and soul be a house of joy. When Sindokht heard her words, she turned to the adorning of the palace. She decked the halls like paradise, with rosewater, wine, musk, and blended amber. She spread out a carpet figured in gold, woven end to end with emeralds. Its other patterns were of lustrous pearls, each grain like a shining drop of water. In one hall she set thrones all of gold, arranged in the style and splendor of China. Every figure was crusted with jewels, and among the gems were carved designs. The throne's legs were of ruby, for it was a throne of kings, rich and precious. One hall held nothing but robes, lutes, and wine, brought from Fars, Ahvaz, and Rey. She adorned Rudabeh like a painting, dressed in fine garments, color, and the scent of spring. All of Kabulistan was decked out, full of color and fragrance and abundant wealth. They adorned the backs of all the elephants and summoned servants from Kabul. The musicians rode upon the elephants, golden crowns set upon their heads. They made ready to go out and greet him, gathering musk and gold to scatter in his honor.

Zal rode on in a rush, like a bird in flight, like a ship on the water. No one knew of his coming, so none went out in splendor to greet him. Then a cry rose from the royal tent: Zal, the wise and blessed, has arrived. Sam, the hero, went out to meet him with joy and held him a while in his arms. Zal dismounted and kissed the ground, then told all he had seen and heard, plainly. Sam sat upon his noble throne, and beside him Zal, glad of heart and content. He began to speak of Sindokht; his lips smiled, though he kept part of it hidden. He said: A message came from Kabul, carried by a woman envoy named Sindokht. She asked a pact of me, and I gave my word never to think ill of her house. Whatever she asked of me for good, we set it all straight in our talk. First, that the moon of Kabul be wed to the sun of Zabol. Second, that we go to them as guests, so those old wounds may find their cure. A messenger has come from her, saying: the work is done, so show your face. Now what answer shall we give the messenger? What shall we say to noble Mehrab? Zal's heart grew so glad that his whole face flushed the color of a ruby. He answered: O hero, if you see it as clear and right in your mind, march the army and let us go to Kabul; let us speak of this and hear their words. Blessed Sam looked at Zal and understood at once what he truly longed for. Any words that were not of Mehrab's daughter were, to Zal, no better than a dream. He ordered the bells and Indian gongs struck, and the royal tent thrown open. The brave man sent a swift camel racing off to reach Mehrab, the lion, to tell him the commander was on the road with Zal, with elephants and a great army. The messenger galloped and reached Kabul, and a fitting cry of joy went up. The king of Kabul was so glad at this bond with the sun of Zabol, that it was as if they poured out their very lives; they called for musicians from every corner.

Mehrab sounded the flutes and strapped on the war drums; he arrayed his army as bright as a rooster's eye. With mighty elephants and musicians, the ground became paradise from one horizon to the other. So many silken banners of every color: red and white, yellow and violet. The sound of flutes, the sound of harps, the blaring of horns and the ringing of bells. You would think it was the Day of Judgment; it was a resurrection, though it was only celebration. He went on this way until he reached Sam; he dismounted his horse and stepped forward. The great champion took him in his arms and asked him how the times had treated him. The king of Kabul offered his praise, both to Sam and likewise to Zal the golden-haired. He mounted his swift steed, rising like a new moon lifting its head above the mountain. A golden crown set with jewels he placed upon the head of Zal the golden-haired. They reached Kabul, laughing and joyful, recalling the tales of years gone by. The whole city rang with the sound of Indian bells, with the plucking of lute and harp and flute. You would think that beast and prey had turned musicians; the world had put on a new adornment. The manes and necks of the horses, from end to end, were smeared with musk and saffron. Sindokht came out with her servants, three hundred attendants with their belts fastened. Each of them held a golden cup in hand, filled with musk and jewels. They all sang Sam's praises, then scattered jewels from their cups. Everyone who came up to that feast left with more wealth than they could need. Sam laughed and said to Sindokht, 'How long will you keep Rudabeh hidden?' Sindokht said to him, 'Where is the gift, if you wish to see the sun?' Sam answered Sindokht thus: 'Ask of me whatever your heart desires.' They went to the gold-painted chamber, where a joyful spring dwelled within. Sam gazed at that moon-faced one and was struck with wonder at everything about her. He did not know how to praise her, nor how to lift his eyes upon her. He ordered Mehrab to come forward, and they bound the marriage bond by rite and custom. They seated the pair joyfully on a single throne and showered them with cornelian and topaz. The head of the moon-bride bore a renowned diadem, the head of the prince a jewel-studded crown. Then he brought the ledger of treasures, a fine inventory of the whole hoard. He read out from it every treasure there was, riches that no ear had dared to hear described. They went from there to their place of rest and spent a week with wine in hand. From the palace they went back to the garden and gave themselves to joy for three weeks. The nobles of his land, with gifts in hand, came drawn up before the lofty palace. At the start of the month Sam, son of Nariman, set out, turning swiftly toward Sistan. With Zal and the army, the elephants and the war drums; fortune itself kissed his stirrup. He had a litter and a canopied palanquin made, a bower to seat the moon-bride within. Then Sindokht and Mehrab and their kin turned their faces toward Sistan. They set off with glad hearts and cheerful spirits, their lips full of praise for good deeds done. They arrived triumphant at Nimruz, so joyful and laughing, lighting up the world. Then Sam prepared a banquet and feasted with wine for three days there. After that Sindokht stayed there, while he led his own army toward Kabul. At that time he handed the kingship to Zal and led out the army under a fortunate omen. He marched toward Gorgsaran and the west, raising his blessed banner high. He said, 'I will go, for that kingdom is mine, yet their hearts and eyes are not true to us.' 'Manuchehr gave me the charter of that land and said: hold it, and keep it in check.' 'I fear the rebellion of the evil-natured, especially the warriors of Mazandaran.' Sam departed in a single stroke, and Zal took the throne, arranged wine and gatherings, and held his head high.

Not much time had passed in those days before the noble cypress, Rudabeh, came to bear fruit. The heart-brightening spring of her wilted; grief and pain took hold of her heart. Her belly grew heavy, her body weighed her down, and her rosy cheeks turned yellow as saffron. Her mother asked her: dear child, dear soul, what has happened that you have turned so pale? She answered: day and night I open my lips only to cry out in pain. It seems my time has come, and I no longer have the strength to carry this burden. You would think my skin was stuffed with stone, or that what lies within me is made of iron. So it went until the hour of birth drew near; all she wanted was sleep and rest. It happened that one day she fainted, and a cry rose from Dastan's palace. Sindokht wailed and clawed at her face, tearing out her musk-scented black hair. One by one the word reached Dastan: the leaf of the slender cypress has withered. Zal the golden went to Rudabeh's bedside, his face wet with tears and his heart wounded. Then he remembered the Simorgh's feather; he smiled and gave Sindokht the good news. He brought a censer and lit the fire, and burned a small piece of that Simorgh feather. At once the sky grew dark, and the commanding bird appeared. Like a cloud whose rain is coral; and what coral, an adornment for the soul itself. Zal offered her long praise, honored her greatly, and bowed low before her. She said to Zal: what is this grief? Why are there tears in the lion's eyes? From this silver-breasted, moon-faced cypress a fierce lion, a seeker of fame, will be born. A lion will kiss the dust beneath his feet; not even the clouds will dare pass above his head. At his roar the hide of the battling leopard will tear apart, and it will gnaw its own claws. Any warrior who hears the sound of his mace, and sees his chest, arms, and shoulders, will collapse at his voice, and the heart of the fighting man will leap from its place. In wisdom he will be as steady as Sam, and in his rage a warring lion. Tall as a cypress, strong as an elephant, in battle he will hurl his javelin two miles. But by the ordinance of the just Creator, the child cannot come into the world the ordinary way. Bring a bright, sharp dagger and a wise, skilled man versed in charms. First make the moon-faced one drunk with wine, so that fear and worry are stilled in her heart. Let him cut open the side of the slender cypress so that she feels no pain. Let him draw the lion cub out from her, staining the moon's whole flank in blood. Then sew up the place where the cut was made; drive fear, sorrow, and dread from your heart. A herb that I will name you, mixed with milk and musk: pound all three and dry them in the shade. Grind it and spread it over her wound, and that very day you will see it close and heal. Then rub one of my feathers over it, for the shadow of my glory is blessed. You should rejoice at these words, and go before the Lord of the world. For it is He who gave you this royal tree, one that fortune makes bloom anew each day. Let your heart feel no sorrow in this matter, for your fruitful branch has come to bear fruit. She spoke, then plucked a feather from her wing, dropped it, and soared high into flight. Zal went and picked up that feather, and did all she had said, and wondrous it was. A whole world watched over that deed, every eye full of blood and every soul wounded. Blood streamed from Sindokht's lashes: how will the child ever come out from the side?