Reign of Shiruyeh

When Shiruy sat on the throne of splendor, he set on his head that royal crown of ambition. The spokesmen of the Persians came forward and called down the ancient blessing of kings upon him. Each of them said aloud: 'You skilled and honored monarch, just as God has granted you the crown, so you sit in peace upon the ivory throne. May the world remain with your children, and likewise with your kin and your line.' Qobad answered them thus: 'May you always be victorious and glad. We will never be evildoers forever; how good is justice paired with a gracious heart. We will hold the world in safety, and cut off every devilish deed.' My most pressing task before all others, since my glory and kinship are the greater, is to send a message to my father, and speak to him this matter point by point. Because of the ugly deed that he has done, such a fate has now come before us. Let him beg God's pardon for his sin, and turn again toward faith and the right path. Then I will attend to the affairs of the world, and strive for justice, both open and hidden. We will do good in return for the good-doer, and never break the heart of the poor man. I need two men, generous and eloquent, who remember well the deeds of old. He asked that gathering: 'Whose task is this? Who among the Persians is pure and clear-eyed?' The noble men all pointed with their eyes to the two elders, hoping they would take no offense. Shiruy understood whom the Persians would choose, the purest from among them all. They were Ashtad and old Khorrad Barzin, two wise, eloquent, and retentive men. He said to them: 'You wise ones, world-seasoned and accomplished leaders, do not treat the world's business as a burden, for from hardship the proud man gains his treasure.' The two learned men rose reluctantly, their lashes brimming with tears. Then Khorrad Barzin and Ashtaghshasp, obeying the command, both mounted their horses. He said to them: 'Now, wholeheartedly, you must take the road to Ctesiphon. Carry a message to my father, remembering the words entirely, point by point. Tell him: this guilt was not ours, nor did the Persians hold this authority. You met with God's punishment because you turned your face away from goodness. For one thing, a pure-born son does not rashly spill his father's blood from his body. Nor is it acceptable that anyone should tell such a tale before him. And for another, the world is full of your treasure, and your affliction has reached every land.' You did not stop even at this, but filled the hearts of honest people with pain. The third wrong: so many brave men and horsemen, all the famous ones of Iran, found no joy in their own children, nor in their homeland and their pure kin. One fled toward China, another toward Rome; they were scattered across every border and land. Another matter: what the Caesar did for you, and how he grieved on your behalf in every way. He gave you an army and gave you his daughter too, along with treasure and much wealth beside it. He asked for the cross of the Messiah to be sent to Rome, so that his land might become happy and thriving. What good was your treasure against the cross of Jesus? The Caesar was well pleased with the exchange. You seized the goods of the helpless; through their curses, evil turned back upon you. Know that what came to you came from God; reflect now on those ugly deeds of yours. For the evil you did, you made me your excuse; I was made the first threshold of your talk. By God, this sin was never mine; I never sought the ruin of the royal throne. Now seek pardon for all of this, and say so to these famous men of Iran. For every wrong you did, turn to God, for He is the guide to what is good. Perhaps He will be the one to take your hand through the sufferings you must endure. Another matter: you had sixteen children whose nights and days passed in prison. At your gate no one slept safe from you; out of fear of you, they lived in hiding. When these two men heard his message, they left with hearts full of grief and pain. In this state, all the way to the land of Ctesiphon, their eyes were full of tears and their hearts full of blood. Golinush was seated at the gate; you would say the earth around him seethed with commotion. His whole army stood ready, every one of them, swords drawn and fully equipped. With armor and helmets, their belts girded tight, and Arab horses draped in battle mail. For war he held a mace of steel, his heart all fire and storm. When these two wise men, Khorrad Barzin and Ashtagushasp, dismounted from their horses, Golinush leapt to his feet at once, glad at the sight of them. He seated them in the place that was fitting and, being a famous lord, welcomed them warmly. The eloquent Khorrad Barzin spoke first, washing his tongue with the water of boldness. He said to Golinush: the fortunate Kavad has calmly set the crown of the Kayanids upon his head. Iran, Turan, and Rome all have word that Shiruy sits upon the imperial throne. So why do you keep this armor, helmet, coat of mail, and bow? Whom do you suspect? Golinush said: 'You worldly, seasoned man, may all your labors turn out as you wish.' 'You cared for my delicate body when my only shirt was made of iron.' 'For such kindness I bless you, and I will scatter jewels at your feet as you deserve.' 'From you comes nothing but fine words. May the sun keep and protect you.' 'Tell me the business you have come on, and after that ask what you will of me.' He answered: 'The fortunate Qobad gave me several messages for the king.' 'If you wish, I will repeat them all, the message of the world's ruler, shepherd of the people.' Golinush said: 'This worthy man knows how to recall every word.' 'But Qobad, king of Iran, gave me much counsel and advice about this:' 'Do not agree, day or night, to let anyone open his lips before the king,' 'unless you hear his words first, whether he speaks in Persian or in Pahlavi.' Ashtad said: 'O happy one, I carry no secret message.' 'It is a message that brings the harvest of the sword and lays the heads of the proud low.' 'Now request an audience from the king for me, so that I may deliver his message.' Golinush heard this and sprang to his feet, breaking through all the barriers at once. He went to the king with his hands folded, as a servant should, arms crossed in respect. He said: 'My king, may you live long, and may your heart never be dimmed by sorrow.' When Ashtad and Kharrad Barzin brought a message to the king from that court, Khosrow laughed and said aloud: 'This plan of yours does not match good sense.' 'If he is the sovereign, then who am I, and for what am I here in this cramped prison,' 'that you must ask my leave for an audience, whether you speak crookedly or straight?' Golinush came to the warriors and repeated what the commander had said. 'Now go in with your hands folded on your chests; speak, and listen to what he says.' The two wise men of pure speech covered their faces with Chinese cloth. When they saw him, they bowed low before him and remained so for a long while. The king sat on a great tapestry throne, its whole surface woven with sheep and wolves, worked all over with gold and jewels, each thread twined into the next. His cushion lay upon yellow brocade, and behind his back a seat of lapis blue. A firm quince in his hand, he sat grim and downcast in his place. When he saw those two worthy men, rich in wisdom above all others, He roused himself from that sleep and set his mind at ease, and called on the Creator of the world to be his ally. That noble guide laid the crown by his pillow, so that he could question it about both roads ahead. The good guide slipped gently off those two cushions; quietly it rolled and slid down from the resting place. It kept slipping this way past the great royal canopy, until at last it came to rest upon the ground. Ashtad hurried over and lifted it up, brushed the dust from it and raised it high. The king turned his face away from Ashtad, not wishing to see the color and scent of that good thing again. They set the crown back on the royal canopy, and these two men remained standing before it. The famous king grew heavy with thought over that crown, for in it he saw no favorable sign at all. At once he lifted his face toward the sky and said: O Judge who speaks only truth, who can raise up the one you cast down, and who can rejoin the one you have broken apart? Now that the bright fortune of my house has faded, grief has come, for its light has passed away. He said to Ashtad: whatever message you carry from that mean-spirited, ugly-hearted boy, and from those ill-wishers who lack all wisdom, and being without wisdom, are wholly without peace, and from that scattered, broken army, those anxious servants with darkened hearts, fortune is about to leave this dynasty; no one in this bloodline will remain happy. The crown and throne will pass to the unworthy; this royal tree will be ruined. No greatness will remain for my son, nor for my family, kin, and all my ties. All friends will turn into pure enemies, speaking evil of this house and wishing it harm. This crown has made the hidden plain to see: that without you the royal throne stands empty. Now tell me every word you have heard; to me his message is worth less than a stream of ditch water. These two men opened their mouths to speak, and a cold, twisting sigh rose up from them.

He told that famous one: hear my reply, and carry it point by point to the new commander. Tell him: do not seek out the faults of others, except of those you must turn from in shame. Whatever you said was not truly your own words; may your tongue never speak in that way again. Do not say things your enemy will overhear, so that he takes joy in your idle talk. In such matters you lack the wisdom to nourish your mind with knowledge and sense. When you rely on words that bear no fruit, you fill your soul and mind with flaws. One who first calls you a sinner, and only after that calls you world-ruler, must not be allowed to sit beside you, or to lay hands on anything, great or small. From now on, send no such message again, for it makes your enemy rejoice over you. By God, my account is settled and clean; my desire rests upon the next world. By seeking out false faults like these, you will win no glory in the eyes of the great. Now I will bring an answer to all of this, so that you may repeat it before the people. After my death it will remain as a keepsake; speaking the truth is a helper. When I lay before you the full weight of my hardship, you will know that our treasure rose from our suffering. First, what you said about Hormoz was pointless, born of an old longing. Because of a slanderer's words, our father grew furious, and everything was thrown into turmoil. When we learned of his intent, we fled Iran through the dark night, off any road. We searched for a way and escaped, and did not fall into the trap of ruin. For his hostility I bore no guilt; my only path was to flee from the king. I heard that harm had come to my king; the moment my ear caught it, I set out from Bardaa. The guilty Bahram himself, with his army, drew up a battlefield before me. From him too I fled on the day of war, so that I would not fall into his grasp. After that I returned once again, and boldly came forward to fight him. Bahram's onslaught was not a single clash; a whole world stood watching that war. By God's command, increase your goodness, for it is He who guides through both good and bad. When Iran and Turan grew calm again, all of Bahram's efforts came to nothing. When I finished the war with Chubineh, my first act was to charge out to avenge my father. Since Bandavi and Gostahm were my maternal uncles, they had no equals in any land. They laid down their lives before me, one with me in heart and speech, as my own body. Since it was a father's blood and a grief that pierced the liver, we showed no weakness in avenging his blood. We cut off Bandwi's hands and feet, the man who cast the king into a dark grave. When Gostahm vanished from the world, he chose some hidden corner to withdraw to. By our command he was suddenly killed; the head and counsel of those bloodthirsty men was cut short. As for what you spoke about your own affair, about that narrow prison and the loss you suffered, It was so that no evil deed would come from my son, lest evil should then fall upon his own head. In prison there were no chains or hardship for you, no wounds of humiliation, no threat of harm. In those days I did not leave you in disgrace; I placed all my treasure before you. We followed the custom of the kings of old; we were not idle, nor did we act by any other way. The hunt, the polo field, the musicians, everything fitting for great men, You lacked for nothing: not gold, not jewels, not hunting leopards or falcons. There was a palace they had named your prison, and you lived in it in comfort and delight. Then there were also the words of the astrologer who gave us reason to fear you, Saying evil would come from you, just as it now has; yet I did not throw away your star. After that we set a seal upon it and entrusted that talk to Shirin. When my reign had reached thirty six years, amid such pleasant days, No doubt you still remember this affair, though much time has passed over us. A letter came to me from India, and I agreed to what it proposed. It was a letter from the Raja to us, along with jewels and garments of every kind, An Indian sword and a white elephant, and everything else I could wish for in the world, Along with the sword, five robes of gold brocade, each worked with great pains of every kind. There was a letter to you written on silk, and when I saw it, it was in Indian script. I summoned an Indian scribe, eloquent, learned, and keen of memory. When he read that letter out to me, he shook his head, his eyes brimming with tears. In that letter it said: Live in joy, for you are worthy of the golden royal crown. Like the moon of the month of Azar and the day of Dey, you will be lord of the world, a king. When your father's reign has reached thirty eight years, the star will pass in this fashion. A brilliant age of goodness will dawn, when you set the crown of greatness on your head. At that time this prophecy became certain to me; yet I should not have washed the love from my heart. I knew that from your good fortune, from the shining rise of your throne, My share would be nothing but pain and sorrow, while this throne of kingship and its treasure would become yours. Out of mercy, faith, kinship, and love, I did not let that letter darken my face. When I had read it, I entrusted it to Shirin, and turned every kind of thought over in my mind. It is with her, together with your horoscope; no one knows a word more or less of that matter. If you wish to see it, ask for it, and judge for yourself what is more and what is less. I am certain that once you see it you will regret, and turn from these deeds toward a remedy. Then there is what you said about prison and chains, that some harm came to people from me. So it has been, as long as the world has turned: the way of the great, of kings, and of noble counsel. If you do not understand, ask the high priest; he will make this matter fresh and clear to you. For whoever is an enemy of God, his life in this world is corrupt. In our prison there were only demons, from whom good people were crying out in torment. Since spilling blood was never my habit, nor grappling with such grim work, I kept the wicked in prison instead, and did not lightly permit harm to others. Many people said that these are enemies, of evil stock and truly devilish. But since I kept the thought of God before me, I let such words pass and paid them no mind. Now I have heard that you set free the one who was worse than a dragon. By this wrong you became a sinner before God; in your words and deeds you turned to evil. Now that you are king, act with a clear head; where you lack knowledge, take a wise man as your ally. Show no mercy to anyone who brings suffering, however much hope of treasure comes from him. For the one from whom you see nothing in this world but harm, what is less fitting for him than chains? Then there is what you said about wealth; you have hidden away your wisdom and good judgment. We asked no one for anything but tribute and tax, from all who had the means to pay it. I received that crown and throne from God, and endured great hardship for its sake. The just and truthful Creator of the world willed that the times should turn another way. I am not sullen at his will; I do not seek to add to what he chooses to take away. We sought the contentment of the Just One; I saw no path to escape effort through mere giving. When the Creator of the world questions me, I will tell him all, both open and hidden. He will ask, he who is wiser than you, and more able in every matter of good and evil. These very guilty ones who stand before you are neither your caretakers nor your kin. Whatever they say of me from now on, this crowd will make you the object of their suspicion. They are all slaves to silver and gold, nothing more; they will come to no one's aid. Your heart is at ease because of them, while my own faults are left in need of cleansing. This talk of yours makes no sense; no one has ever profited from the evil you have spoken. But I, for my own sake, wish that someone would read out that ancient chronicle, so that it may remain a memorial in the world, and a solace to the wise. After us, whoever reads our words will understand what our worth once was. From Bartas to China we led our armies, and set a commander over every land. We launched our raids against our enemies, and no one dared to lift his head against us. When the enemy was scattered from the world, all our treasure was piled up in one place. Every region worked for our profit; so many gems were hauled up from the sea that the divers grew weary of the hauling. The plains, the sea, and the mountains were all mine. When the treasury of silver coins was spread wide, the sacks were also filled with fresh gold dinars, with rubies and with royal gems, and with gold-embroidered gear and garments. When our crown had ruled for twenty-six years, our treasuries overflowed with every kind of jewel. I minted a new coinage of silver, and turned all toward joy and lordship. In that year, when I called for a count of the tribute, the tax in dinars reached a hundred thousand. Pandavosi laid it out in heaps, all of it Persian Pandavosi leather. In every sack there were twelve thousand royal dinars, poured out and counted. This apart from the tribute and gold of India, apart from the lands of Rome and of the sorcerers, apart from the tribute and levy of every country, from every famous man and every lord, apart from the customary gifts of Nowruz and Mehr, and the horses and the fair-faced servants, apart from armor and helmet, mace and sword; none of these did anyone withhold from us. apart from musk and camphor, silk and sable, black and white, and tawny furs. Everyone who was our subject sent such tributes on their fierce camels, racing toward our court; no one turned his neck away from our path. From every quarter we bore great hardship, so that this kind of treasure might be amassed. Then there was the Green Treasure and the Bride Treasure, which we kept for the day of homage. We spoke much of its fame, and in the end we named it the Wind-Brought treasure. For twenty-six years and on to thirty-eight, fortune's wheel turned only as we wished. All the nobles lived in comfort, while every ill-wisher was gripped by fear. But the moment I heard of your command, the world turned sour because of your pact. No one keeps any peace in this world; there is nothing left to choose but silence. You keep filling the world with harm, doing work that is full of pain and useless. Those wounded people close to you could become dark nights of ruin against your fortune. They will give your throne to the wind, so that you find no joy in the world. If a wise man had been near you, your dark soul would have grown bright. Giving brings no loss to anyone; a treasure that reaches the deserving is well spent. O son of few days and little wisdom, worry has stolen the peace from your soul. Know that this treasure of mine is your support; the age now lies wholly in your grasp. It is also the adornment of kingship; a world without money falls into ruin. A king without money turns cruel; the empty handed man has neither wit nor skill. He has no means to be generous, and the nobles call him king only in mockery. If your wealth reaches the enemy, it is like an idol falling into the Brahmin's hand. The one who once worshipped God turns away, and your name and voice grow worthless to him. When you are without treasure the army will not stay, and your subjects will not call you king. A dog is best kept begging for bread; feed it full and it becomes an enemy to your life. As for what you said about the army, that you settled and disciplined them in their own lands, out of ignorance this cannot be approved; you cannot tell the road of gain from harm. This is my answer: it was through my toil that this famous treasure of mine was gathered. I took cities from foreigners and crushed all the enemies together. So that we might sit in peace on the throne of ease, without pain, without heat and torment. I scattered horsemen along the borders, and now from the worthless, worth has appeared. If you call the army back from every side, the ill wisher will find his road open. For Iran is like a garden fresh in spring, where the flower of fortune always blooms. Full of narcissus, pomegranate, apple, and quince, until the orchard is emptied of its people. Then they tear out every sweet herb by the root and break all the branches of pomegranate and quince. The army and its weapons are the garden's wall; its fence is the spears, its thorns the lances. If you foolishly throw down the garden wall, what is garden, plain, sea, or meadow then? See that you do not throw down its wall, and do not break the heart and back of the Iranians. For after that comes plunder and raiding, the cry of horsemen and the drawing of vengeance. Do not put the women, children, and homeland of the Iranians in the reach of any evil design. If you let a year pass by like this, the wise will call you a fool. I have heard that you, though you are great, give everyone what they do not deserve. Know this: the just king Qobad recorded this advice in a letter. Whoever hands his weapons to his enemy is handing himself over to be killed. For when he needs them back in a crisis, the ill-wisher will use them to fight him. Another thing: the message you sent from Caesar called me two-faced and self-serving. Those words were not your own idea; they were what your teacher put in your mouth. You say he kept faith and I broke it, but how would you know loyalty from betrayal? In answer to that, you feeble-minded wretch, I will say only what fits the matter. You make the claim and you are your own witness; no wise man would allow such a thing. When Caesar washed the dust of trouble from his face, he sought a hero like Parviz for a son-in-law. Anyone who does not walk the world in evil carries wisdom within his mind. I knew Bahram had girded himself for war, and the Iranians had joined with him. A Roman army cannot be broken; sand cannot wear down a mountain. In that battle God was my ally, and the world's whole host meant nothing to me. The Iranians heard what happened; you too should hear the truth from them. There was something I had to do as well for Niyatus on the day of battle. Out of kindness and decency I acted, and I have reckoned his reward day by day. Zad-e-Farrokh will tell you the same: do not look at the world with young, careless eyes. Goshasp, who was our treasurer, and that same pure priest, our counselor, know that from our treasury there were a hundred thousand purses which I gave to the Romans as a keepsake. To Niyatus I gave a thousand beads of red ruby, fit for earrings. Each bead weighed a thousand, when I counted the treasure by weight. There were a hundred choice, lustrous pearls, in which no expert could find a single flaw. For each casket, the jeweler who appraised them would set a price of fifty thousand coins. A hundred precious horses, fifty of them saddled, all picked from our own stables. Fifty others draped in brocade, swift as the wind across the plain. I sent all this to Caesar, and along with the gifts I sent him blessings. As for the cross of the Messiah you spoke of, some old piece of wood thrown into a treasury, it brought me neither gain nor loss; you only heard talk of it from a Christian. I was amazed that a Caesar, a proud and famous man, with wise men all around him, philosophers and priests alike, should ask why God calls that slain man divine, that dry, ruined piece of wood. If that gallows were truly the work of God, it would be the very source of Ohrmazd himself. It would suddenly rise from our treasury; the Messiah became him, though he no longer exists in the world. Then you said: apologize, repent now and seek the path of God. His answer was this: may the tongue, heart, hands and feet of Qobad fall to pieces. God set the crown upon my head; I accepted it and was glad of the crown. When He asked it back, I gave it to God; I do not know why there is a tongue in your mouth. I speak to God, not to a child who cannot tell the slightest good from evil. I have accepted all of God's doings; I have tasted much of its bitterness and turmoil. I held the throne for thirty eight years; among the kings none was my equal. The One who gave this world can give another; He lays no debt upon me. I bless this kingship: may the earth flourish through the wise. When God is our friend and rescuer, no one's curse can reach us. Tell that ugly, ignorant boy that our honor has now grown dark. May you be forever farewelled; let our concern be only with the wise. And you, dear envoys, eloquent and worthy free men, receive my farewell too; say nothing but what you have heard. I bless the whole world from end to end, though I saw it only as a passing place. Everyone born of a mother must die, from Kaykhosrow back to Kayqobad. Like Hushang, Tahmuras and Jamshid, from whom came both dread and hope, who commanded demon, beast and prey; when his bright day ended he passed and died. The blessed Fereydun, who cleared both the seen and hidden evil from the world, who bound the hands of the Arab Zahhak against wickedness, could not with all his courage escape the grip of time. Like Arash, who could shoot an arrow for miles, like the victorious, lion-taking Qaran, and Qobad, who came down from Mount Alborz and became lord of the world through his valor with the people, who built a house of crystal glass and filled the world with tales about it. Its images were all set in pearls, its door made of shining ruby. And Siyavash, that noble and gracious hero, whom the scribe of fate cut down in the days of his youth. Where is the one who toiled to raise the fortress of Gang, yet from all that toil gained no treasure at all? Where are Rostam son of Zal, and Esfandiar, whose stories linger with us as their only memorial? Or Gudarz and his seventy chosen sons, riders of the field, lions of vengeance? Or King Goshtasp, who embraced the good faith, and through him our royal glory was renewed? Or Jamasp, who in reading the turning heavens shone brighter than the wheeling sun? All those great and learned men, warriors on horseback, and champions of courage, are gone. One surpassed the other in skill, one was older in years than the next. They emptied out this wide world and left behind their fields, their halls, and their palaces. Among the kings I too had no equal, even if I did not reach great length of years. I handed the world over, its good and its bad, keeping nothing that might one day serve me. We crossed many a hard road, we cleared many an enemy from our path. Every land is filled with my treasure; wherever there is water and soil, there is my labor. When the world ends this way for me, the hopes of the great grow dim. Not even to my own son will the throne remain; the throne will slip away, and his fortune will end. A soul-taking angel will come, and I will tell it: take my life gently. Crossing over will be like the Chinvat Bridge, with only flowers beneath my feet. Let us cleanse our hearts bright with repentance and make harmlessness our armor. True are the words of the wise, the world-seasoned and pure of understanding: that when a fortune once awake begins to decline, dread will come from every side. When the good days pass a man by, wisdom will not call them back. This is my message to the world, to the lowly and to the great alike: Farewell to you all, and be glad; do not remember me for any wrong. When Eshtad and the herald Khorrad Borzin heard the message of that leader, the hearts of both wise men were pierced as if by arrows, and at once they struck their heads with their hands. They regretted the words they carried and beat their own faces in grief. The clothes on their chests were torn to shreds, and the heads of both sages were covered in dust. Weeping, they left his presence, their souls full of pain and their heads full of sorrow. These two men went to Shiruy, faces creased with grief and hearts full of pain. One by one they delivered the king's message to the brainless, helpless Shiruy.

When Shiruy heard this, he wept bitterly, and his heart grew afraid of that crown and throne. Then that crowd rose up and left, the ones who had kept him worn down and troubled, with ugly words and talk of his father's blood, they kept scorching the young man's heart. Qobad stepped down from the royal throne and pressed both his dear hands to his head. Blood dripped from his lashes onto his chest when word of the enemy reached him. When the sun lifted its head above the dark mountain, the evildoer woke from sleep. They all set out toward the court, and hearing this, he took his place on the royal seat. The proud and defiant men came before him, both the strangers among his warriors and his own kin. They sat with grim, downcast faces, and his tongue would not stir over anything, great or small. He understood that they sat so grim, and asked why they were seated in pain and grief. He said to them: whatever king comes from a father's line, if he does not grieve at his father's suffering, I would call him nothing but base in body and low in birth. No one should place hope in such a man, for he is more rotten than a rotten willow branch. From the guilty man came this reply: anyone who says 'I serve two kings,' call him one with a foolish, careless heart; and if he seems worthy, call him worthless still. Shiruy answered thus: a king, when he has no treasure, his army counts for nothing. Let us speak kindly for another month too, and say nothing that follows the harsh path. Perhaps we can rejoice at his counsel, for this whole realm of his is a treasure. When they heard the reply, they rose and made ready to go home. Shiruy the king said to the cooks: nothing should be withheld from Khosrow. Set before him every golden tray, and lay on it rich and sweet dishes. The server would bring it, but Khosrow would not eat any of what he saw on the tray, hot or cold. All that he ate came from Shirin's hand, though it grieved Shirin to see him eat so little.

Now listen to the lament of Barbad, and hold the noblest of leaders close to your heart. When Barbad learned that the king had been stripped of his throne through cruelty and left with nothing, he came from Jahrom toward Ctesiphon, his lashes wet with tears, his heart full of blood. He came to that house and saw him there: the ruby of his cheeks had turned pale as a wilted flower. He stayed a while before the king, then came weeping into the great hall. There he mourned like a hero, his cheeks gone yellow, his heart full of pain. His wailing was so loud the king himself heard it, though guards kept watch over him. The guards who stood there began to weep, roasted by the fire of their love and grief. He kept saying: O noble one, O king, O great one, O mighty one, O towering champion, where now is your greatness and your power? Where all your glory, your throne and crown? Where is your grandeur, your height, your crown? Where the armlets, the throne of ivory? Where is your manhood, your strength, your splendor, when you held the whole world beneath your wing? Where now the royal chambers and the musicians? Where the courtyard and the great hall of chiefs? Where the crown and the banner of Kaveh? Where all those violet-gleaming blades? Where the brave warriors of battle? Where the nobles, the priests, and the great lords? Where all those feasts and the gear of the hunt? Where the proud march into war? Where those pages with golden belts? Where all that wisdom, ceremony, and glory? Where that proud and loyal one who stood beside the golden throne with its jeweled rings? Where all that army, land, and realm? Where that eminence and throne of gold? Where your helmet and golden mail, studded knot upon knot with gems? Where the horse Shabdiz with its golden stirrups, that could not stand still beneath you? Where those horsemen with gold-plated saddles, whose swords found no sheath but the enemy? Where all those secrets and that wisdom? Where all that divine grace of kingship? Where all that generosity at the feast? Where all that striving on the day of war? Where all those smooth-paced mules, the golden litters, and the obedient servants? The camels, the fine steeds, and the white elephant, all have given up hope for your life. Where those sweet words on your tongue? Where that heart, that judgment, that bright soul? Why have you been left alone, stripped of everything? When did you ever read of such a day in any book? Never grow too familiar with the world, for its venom is stronger than any poison. You wanted a son to be your friend and support; now grief from that son fills your hands. By their sons kings grow strong, and are freed from the wounds of time, but the great king's strength waned just as his son grew tall and upright. Whoever hears what happened to Khosrow should never grow careless in this world. Count all the land of Iran as ruined now, a lair for panthers and lions. The king was chief of the Sasanian line; no crown or throne will ever see his like again. This dynasty is ruined, and Iran with it; every wish of the treacherous has come true. No one has ever had a greater army, yet from that very army came his ruin. The harm came from the greatest guardian; now the wolf will slip in through the breach. Your army too will not hold firm when war erupts from all four sides. May the just God be a friend to your soul, and may the heads of the malicious be brought low. By God and by your name, O king, by Nowruz, by Mehr, and by joyful spring, if ever my hand plays again after this, let no touch of a lute reach me. I will burn all my instruments, so I never have to see an enemy again. He cut off all four of his fingers and held them, severed, in his fist. When he reached home he lit a fire and burned every one of his instruments at once.

Everyone who had wronged the king now lived in dread of what fate would bring, day and night. Since Shiruy was fearful and green, the very throne he sat on was a trap before him. Every astrologer who read the stars knew the great men's day would never come. All who had done evil and had thrown themselves into that deed fled. From the court they went straight to Qobad and reminded him of that unjust affair. They said: We spoke once, and now again; surely you have some other judgment in mind. Two kings sit in one city with no gain: one holds the throne, the other stays below it. If father and son grow close in kinship, they will cut off all their servants' heads. We do not agree with this course; do not tell us this tale from now on. Shiruy was afraid, and rightly so, for in their grip he was but a slave. He answered: No one turns his head toward the trap but a man of foul name. You should go back to your homes and set your thoughts upon that wish. Search the world for someone who will secretly rid us of this trouble. The king's ill-wisher sought a killer, so they might destroy the king in secret. No one in the world had the nerve, nor from courage the share for such a deed, to shed the blood of such a king, to hang a mountain of guilt around his neck. The king's enemy searched everywhere until they saw a man on the road, his two eyes dark blue, his cheeks sallow, his body dry and hairy, his face the color of lapis. His feet caked with dust, his belly empty, the body of this brutal man laid bare. No one in the world knew his name, neither among the humble nor among the great. The birth of this ugly man was called fortunate, though may he never see the joyful paradise. He said to him: This battle is my task; once you have filled me, this prey is mine. He said: Go, do it if you can, and speak no further word on this. I have given you a purse of gold and treated you like a son of his. He gave him a dagger sharp as water; the killer set off swiftly, in great haste. When that evildoer came near the king, he saw him shackled at the foot of the throne. Khosrow trembled when he saw him; tears dripped from his lashes onto his cheeks. He said: You of ugly face, what is your name? The one who bore you should weep for you. He said: They call me Mehr-Hormozd; I am a stranger in this city, without friend or kin. Khosrow said: The hour has come, at the hand of this vile, evil-minded wretch. His face does not resemble a human's; no one in the world would seek his love. A young page stood before him on his feet, and the king said to the boy: You who show the way, go and bring a basin of water, musk and perfume, and a fresh, pleasing garment. The servant heard his voice; the boy did not know his hidden intent. The small servant came before him and carried a golden basin to the king, with a garment, a ewer, and water; Khosrow was hurrying to be done with it all. When he saw the sacred barsom twigs, he began the prayer; it was no time for talk or idle words. When the king had put on those garments, he murmured a prayer of repentance for his sins. He drew a new veil over his head, so the life-taker would not see his face. Mehr-Hormozd came in, dagger in hand, and barred the door of the royal chamber. He moved quickly, pulled the garment from him, and tore open the breast of the world's king. He writhed and let out a cold breath; in agony, upon that garment, he gave up his soul. This is how the world of the world turns; it keeps its secret hidden from you. Weigh your words without effort; if a man only boasts, you will see nothing but nonsense in his deeds. Whether you own treasure, or hardship and pain, you will not remain in this fleeting inn of a world. Choose harmlessness and honesty if you wish to earn praise for your justice. When word reached the market and the streets that the king had been destroyed in this way, all the suspected ones were thrown in prison; those wretched men went to the palace hall. There were fifteen dear sons of his, imprisoned in the king's own palace. They killed them, innocent, in prison, at the time when the king's fortune had turned. The ruler dared say nothing; he kept that grief hidden within. When Shiruy heard, he wept for a while, then sent twenty guards afterward, so they might watch over the wives and children after the death of that slain king. Gone was that kingship and all that army, that greatness, that manliness, and that power, which no king of kings had ever possessed, nor was heard of among the famed men of old. He became one with the man who has ample bread but no land or palace to find or see. The wise man says: he holds no worth, whoever has grown safe from the dragon. Call the world nothing but a bold crocodile: once it seizes with its claws, it chews with its teeth. Now the story of King Parviz has ended; gone are that famous throne, treasure, and army.

Now that I have brought Khosrow's days to their end, let me open the tale of Shiruy and Shirin. When fifty-three days had passed since that blessed king was killed, Shiruy sent a messenger to Shirin: 'You brazen sorceress, you have overreached! You know nothing but witchcraft and malice; in all of Iran you are the most sinful and shameless.' 'With spells you held the king in your grip; with your tricks you would pull down the moon itself.' 'Be afraid, guilty one, and come to me; do not sit so smug and safe in your palace.' Shirin was enraged by his message, by that sinful man's foul insults. She said: 'May the wretch who spills his own father's blood never rise or flourish.' 'I will not look upon that evildoer from any distance, not in mourning, not in feasting.' She summoned a grieving scribe, and had a Pahlavi ledger prepared. She gave her final instructions to that learned man, and set out before him all she owned. In a chest she kept some poison stored, so she would not need to search the city for it. She kept that poison close beside her; she was sewing a shroud for the cypress of the meadow, her own body. She sent her answer back to Shiruy: 'You crowned king, you proud and lofty one, the words you spoke are leaves and wind; may the heart and soul of that evildoer be brought low.' 'Where in the world has anyone heard of sorcery except as a name, or ever profited by it?' 'And if the king lived by this custom and measure, that his judgment was renewed by witchcraft, then some sorcerer must have been in the king's harem, seeing with her own eyes the king's very face.' 'He kept me for the good fortune I brought, for at dawn, when he turned his eyes to me, he would call me from the golden chamber, and his soul was made bright by the sight of me.' 'Be ashamed to utter such words; why pin these crooked lies upon a king?' 'Remember the good the Creator has given; do not speak this before anyone.' They carried her answer back to the king, and Shiruy raged against that innocent woman. He said: 'There is no escape from coming; no one on earth is as sharp with words as you.' When Shirin heard, she was filled with pain; she trembled, and the color of her face turned pale. She answered thus: 'I will not come to you except before an assembly, where wise men stand before you, seasoned in the world and learned in books.' Shiruy sent fifty men, and brought the learned and the old. Then he sent someone to Shirin: 'Rise and come forward; enough of talk.' When Shirin heard this, in dark blue and black she veiled herself and came to the king. She hurried to the garden of Shadgan, where the noble free-hearted ones would gather and speak. Like a devout and pious person, the queen took her seat behind a curtain. The king sent a messenger to her: two months have passed since Khosrow's death. Now become my wife and enjoy your fortune, so you need not look to some lesser man. I will keep you in honor, just as my father did, indeed more famously and more finely still. Shirin replied: first give me what is mine, then my life is yours to command. After that I will not rest from obeying you, from your orders, your counsel, and your radiant heart. Shiruy agreed to this, so that the lovely woman might tell her tale. The noble woman called out from behind the curtain: O king, may you be victorious and glad. You said that I am wicked and a sorceress, that I stand apart from purity and honesty. She said to herself: Shiruy is only like this because of youthful heat; one should not hold a grudge against the young. Then Shirin spoke to the noble ones who were present there in the garden of Shadgan. What evil have you ever seen in me, what darkness, crookedness, or foolishness? For many years I was the Lady of Iran, and in every affair I was the support of brave men. I always sought nothing but honesty; crookedness and flaw were far from me. Many people gained cities through my word and won their share of the world in every way. Who in Iran ever saw my true shadow, or the shadow of my crown and jewels? Let everyone who saw and heard speak up; the whole matter will become clear from their answer. The great men who stood before the king spoke well and pointed to Shirin's goodness. They said there is no woman in the world like her, neither in what is seen nor in what is hidden. Shirin said: O great ones, you leaders who have traveled the world and gained experience, a woman's worth rests on three things that make her lovely and fit for glory. One is that she has modesty and dignity, so her husband adorns his home through her. Another is that she bears a fortunate son and, through a blessed husband, grows her line. The third is that her stature and face are fair, and her hair is kept modestly covered. When I was Khosrow's wife, in that union I was renowned throughout the world. When he came, unwilling and heartbroken, from Rome, there was no settling in this land and country. After that he rose to such success that no one in the world had ever seen or heard its like. And by him I had four children, in whom the king took such great joy. Nastud, Shahriar, Farud, and manly Shahriyar, that crown of the dark blue sky. No one like them was ever born from Jamshid or Fereydun; may my tongue fall silent if I ever turn away from justice. She said this and lifted the veil from her face: her face all like the moon, her back all covered with hair. This is my face, just as it truly is; if any of it is a lie, hold out your hand and show me. As a mark of my virtue I kept this hair hidden, hair such as no one in the world has ever seen. I have shown you all this wonder now, not out of trickery, deceit, or ill nature. No one had ever seen my hair before this, nor had even the great ones heard of it. The elders were left astonished at the sight, and murmured under their breath in wonder. When Shiruy saw Shirin's face, his very soul flew secretly from his body. He told her: I want no one but you; if I win a bride like you, that is enough for me in all Iran. The lovely woman answered him again: I am not without need of the king of Iran. I will ask three things, if you grant them; and may the crown of kings remain yours forever. Shiruy said to her: my life is yours; whatever else you wish is granted too. Shirin said to him: all the wealth with which I adorned this land, from now on you will hand it over to me, one by one, before this famous gathering. And you will set your signature on this document, that I renounce all his property, great or small. Shiruy quickly did as she asked, once the woman heard his answer to her requests. She set out from the joyful rose garden, leaving the great and the noble behind. She went home and freed her servants, gladdening each servant with that wealth. Whatever else she had she gave to the poor, giving most to those who were her own kin. She donated much to the fire temple, both to its upkeep and for the days of the Sadeh festival. And to a ruined lair, an old inn that had become a den for lions, she gave it as a good deed in the name of King Khosrow, gladdening his soul with her kindness. She came to that garden and unveiled her face, and sat upon the earth, drained of all color and scent. She called all her servants to her side and seated each of them kindly. Then she spoke in a loud voice: every one of you who holds honor, listen well to my words, for no one will ever see my face again. Speak nothing but the truth, for no falsehood comes from those who truly know. For after I went to Khosrow, and became a bride in his golden chamber, I was the chief of women and the glory of the king; and after that, if any fault appeared in me, let no word of it ever be spoken, for what fault could show in a resourceful woman? They all rose to their feet at once, their tongues ready with an answer. They said: renowned lady of ladies, eloquent, wise, and bright of soul, By God, no one has ever laid eyes on you, nor even heard your voice from behind the veil. Truly, since the days of Hushang no woman like you has sat upon the throne of glory. All the servants and attendants, the ambitious and clear-hearted retainers, Cried out together: honored one, praised in China, in Rome, and in Taraz, Who would dare speak ill of you? How could anyone wrong you? Shirin replied: as for that evildoer, whom the lofty heavens themselves will reproach, He killed his own father for the crown and throne. May he never see joy or fortune again. He backed death up against the wall, for he made his father's life worthless in his own body. He sent me a message that darkened my fragile soul. I said this cruel thing only because I am still alive, still a worshipper of the world's Creator. I laid bare my whole path; I was full of pain because of my enemy. Fearing that after my death, before the assembly, his tongue might speak evil of me. At her words they wept, and were seared too by grief for Parviz. The spokesmen went to the king and told him all they had heard from that innocent one. Shiruy asked: good soul, what third wish has come to you now? Shirin sent a messenger to Shiruy: now only one wish remains. Let me open the door of the king's tomb; I long to look upon him. Shiruy said: this too is granted; seeing that lord, that king, is her right. The guard opened the door of the tomb, and the chaste woman began to mourn. She pressed her face to Khosrow's face and recalled aloud all their past words. Then and there she swallowed deadly poison, and her soul rose up out of Shirin. She sat by the king with her face veiled, a single garment on her, scented with camphor. She leaned her back against the wall and died; she died, and the world lost all trace of her. When Shiruy heard, he fell ill, filled with sorrow at what he saw. He ordered another tomb be built, crowned with musk and camphor. He sealed her within the king's tomb. Not much time passed after this, before Shiruy too was given poison; the world's measure of kings had run full. In misfortune he was born, in misfortune he died, and he handed the royal throne to his son. A man may rule for seven months alone, and then his crown turns pale as camphor and is gone. In this world there is no good greater than the throne, and no evil worse than a life cut short. Now I must speak of the reign of Ardeshir the king, for the story has brought me to it and I cannot avoid it.