Reign of Shapur Zu'l-Aktaf

They blessed him as king, and all the nobles scattered jewels in his honor. There was a high priest named Shahru, wise, worthy, and content. He came and sat on the golden throne, and bound his waist in service before it. He ruled the world with justice and good sense, guiding the army through every good and ill. He organized the scattered treasury and troops, and adorned the palace and the throne. So it went until five years had passed, and that small child grew strong and tall. One night the king was seated in Ctesiphon, with the wise high priest before him. At the hour the sun turned pale and set, that dark blue canopy of night appeared. A clamor rose from the road by the Arvand River; the priest said, 'This is what greets us.' The high priest spoke to the young, wise king: 'O pure hearted, fortunate, valiant king, now the merchants and those seeking their livelihood turn from their stalls toward home. When they cross over the Tigris past one another, they tread on so narrow a bridge on foot, so that everyone trembles as if in fear of the war drum, and their cries ring out like its beating.' Shapur spoke to the priests: 'O skilled and renowned wise men, another bridge must be built now, one road for going and one for coming back, so that our subjects, whether soldiers or those who serve us, will not suffer like this in their travels. Ample coin must be given from the treasury.' All the priests grew deeply glad, for the young, unripe tree had turned green with promise. By the command of that crowned child, the priest ordered another bridge to be raised. His mother's heart rejoiced at him, and she brought tutors of learning to his side. Soon he reached such a level in his studies that he surpassed his teachers themselves. When he turned seven he took up the ways of the field, and learned combat and the game of polo. By the eighth year he took on the manner of throne and crown; you would say Bahram Shah had girded his belt for rule. He carried himself with pride and honor, and made Estakhr his seat of rule. He followed the noble ways of his blessed ancestors, his chosen, proud, and pure forebears.

When some time had passed for the king, the world-lighting crown grew bright and radiant. From the Ghassanids came Tayer, brave as a lion, whose sword could break the heart of heaven itself. An army drawn from the Romans and from Qadisiyya, from Bahrain, from the Kurds, and from the Persians. He marched to the outskirts of Ctesiphon, a host beyond all counting. He gave that whole land to plunder; whoever could walk or run or fly, none escaped him. There was a survivor of Narsi's line, a keepsake of his house, and her name was Nushah, fresh as spring. That moon-faced woman came to the palace hall, and all of Ctesiphon filled with talk of her. They took her from her palace and made her captive, for those people were neither wise nor open to wisdom. For nearly a year she stayed close to Tayer, her heart drowned in blood from her sorrows. By Tayer she bore a daughter lovely as the moon; you would say Narsi himself had returned with crown and throne. Her father named her Malika when he saw the girl was worthy of a kingdom. When Shapur turned twenty-six, he had become a king like the moon in beauty, radiant as the sun. He came out to the plain and reviewed his army, and chose twelve thousand of his finest warriors. Each rode a swift-footed camel, and before them went a hundred guides. They mounted the camels, leading their horses by hand, and the king-loving champions set out. Then Shapur mounted with his chosen men and, in kingly fashion, girded himself for the raid. He set off in pursuit of the king of the Ghassanids, the proud Tayer, that raging lion. He killed many of Tayer's soldiers, and when Tayer saw this, he turned and fled. The uproar of the chase and the battle rose up, and they took many of them prisoner. No one could reckon their number; then those who remained fled away. That army shut themselves up in a fortress in Yemen, and cries went up from child and man and woman. Shapur brought so vast an army that he blocked the road even to the ant and the gnat. He found Tayer and his men trapped in the fortress, with no way to fight and no way to flee. For a whole month, day and night, the fighting went on, and inside the fortress the army ran short of provisions.

At dawn the hero Shapur mounted up, and rode forth in fury, bow in hand. A royal black coat of mail upon his chest, a shining black banner raised above his head. From the fortress wall Maleke looked out and saw the banners and the heads of the famous men. His cheeks like the color of a rose, his hair like musk, red as tamarisk-blossom, fragrant as musk. That handsome face stole her sleep and peace; she went to her nurse with a heart full of love. She said: this king who shines like the sun, who has come here so bent on vengeance, his greatness is like my own hidden self; I call him the whole world, for he is my world. Carry a message from me to Shapur: he has come to war against me, but I would make it a wedding. Tell him I am of the same noble stock as you, born too from the brave line of Narsi. I have no part in this feud, no share in the quarrel; I am your own kin, the daughter of Nusheh. If you want me, this fortress is yours; when you enter the palace, its beauty is yours. If you make this pact with the nurse, pledge your word by your greatness as surety. The nurse said to her: whatever you command I will say, and bring you word back from him. When night spread its rule over the earth and took an army from sea to sea, the earth turned dark, the mountains blue as indigo, and the stars glowed like hanging lamps. You would think three hundred thousand candles were hung from the sky over the fortress. The nurse set out trembling, full of fear and dread; at every bird her heart split in two with worry. When she reached the royal tent, she stepped close to that pure-minded king. She said to the guard: if you take me to the king, you will get from me a crown and a ring. The wise chief of the audience escorted her in and brought her through the curtained hall to the king. She came and swept the ground with her lashes in homage, and told the king all that she had heard. The king was gladdened by her words; he laughed and gave her a thousand gold coins, two bracelets, a torque, and a ring, with silk of China and of Barbary. He answered thus: to that moon-faced lady speak many kind words and gently. Tell her he swore by the sun and the moon, by the sacred girdle, by Zoroaster and the blessed crown, that whatever you ask of me, even if it costs me part of my kingdom, your ear will never hear a harsh word from me; I will never seek to be parted from your embrace. I take her as mine with throne and crown, by God's command, with treasure and an army. When the nurse heard his answer, at once she left the tent and ran back to the fortress. She told that silver cypress all she had heard: that the sun had become the mate of Nahid. Of the stature and the face of King Shapur she told everything to that shining moon.

When the sun raised its crown in the east, the earth's teak-dark color turned to yellow blossoms. He took the keys from the treasurer, keys to the kitchen and the jars of wine. To every notable inside the fortress, and to each battle-weary warrior chief there, he sent food and plenty of wine, along with fragrant narcissus and sweet-clover blooms. He called the wine-pourer before him and spoke to him at length, kindly. He told him: Tonight you will pour the wine; serve Tayer only the pure, strong wine. Keep the cups always in their hands, so they drink till they grow drunk and fall asleep. The cupbearer said: I am your servant; I live in this world only by your command. When the sun turned yellow in the west and dark night said, You are cleared from my path, Tayer called for royal wine in his goblet, and the first name he toasted was the Ghassanids. When the first watch of the dark night had passed, Tayer grew quiet from all his shouting and revelry. They all went at once toward the sleeping quarters, and the king gave his attendants an order: that no one should speak a word except in secret. Quietly they opened the fortress gate. King Shapur himself was watching for this, his heart full of anger at the drunkards' noise. When a candle glowed at the fortress gate, he said: Now fortune has joined me, wide awake. He ordered that the moon-faced girl be given a fine place inside the royal tent. He gathered all his troops together and chose out the men of honor and war. He sent a number of riders up onto the ramparts, every one of them a man fit for battle. He entered the fortress and began the killing, and seized all its ancient treasures. The army with Tayer was inside the stronghold, more than a thousand, all lying drunk asleep. The sleepers woke bewildered and dazed, and here and there they scrambled to fight. Not one of them turned his back in fear; the king of Iran killed many a famous man. When Tayer fell captive in his grip, he came running out, stripped bare, with no escape. The stronghold and its stores fell into his hands, and that evil-bodied man was taken prisoner. That night passed, and early in the morning, when the sun showed its golden helmet, they set up a turquoise throne in the fortress with due ceremony and held an audience. When the king had finished holding court, the girl, like a spring rose, came to him, a crown of red rubies on her head, dressed in dazzling Chinese cloth-of-gold. Tayer knew that this was the work of the sorceress, and that this ruin came upon him from his own deeds. He said: O noble king, look what my own child has done to me. Shapur said to that disgraced man: How could you drag Bahram's daughter from behind her veil, bring shame upon her family, and stir up that quarrel that had been laid to rest? He ordered the executioner to strike off his neck and burn his body in the fire. For his disgrace he had Tayer's head plunged in blood, and had both his shoulder blades wrenched out from behind. Every Arab he could find, he left none able to open his lips to anyone. He tore both shoulder blades from their arms; the world stood amazed at what he did. The Arabs named him Zul-Aktaf, 'Lord of the Shoulders,' since he pulled the Arabs' shoulders from their sockets. From there he went at once back to Pars, and a whole world came to bow before him. Some more of the heavens' turning passed over this as well, and then the sky showed a different face.

There came a day when, though he held crown and treasure, his heart was heavy with what fate might bring. When three watches of the dark night had passed, he ordered the astrologer to be summoned. He asked him about the throne of kingship, about coming hardship and about better days. The astrologer brought out his astrolabe and cast aside all rest and sleep. He gazed carefully at the heart of Leo, which is the sign of victory and good fortune, to see whether misfortune would reach the king, or whether his divine glory would grow greater. When they had looked, they said: 'You who conquer the world, bright of heart and pure of soul, there is a trial ahead full of pain and sorrow, one no man would dare recall in your presence.' Shapur answered him: 'You who are wise and seek the truth, what remedy is there so that this may pass me by, and my body not be trampled by the evil star?' The astrologer said: 'O king, from this turning of the fickle wheel of heaven, you cannot escape by courage or by knowledge, be you a sage or a fierce warrior. Whatever is fated will surely come; we cannot resist the turning of the sky.' The noble king replied: 'The Creator will guard against every evil, He who made the lofty spinning heaven, who created both power and weakness.' He spread justice over his realm, and for a time lived happy and untroubled. When all his lands and borders flourished, he formed a wish to journey to Rome, to see for himself whether the Caesar was truly worthy, with his army, treasure and strength of arm. He opened his secret to his steward, a brave champion, just and wise. He told him all his plans and thoughts, keeping them hidden from everyone else. He said: 'Rule this kingdom with justice, so that you may find joy through justice.' He called for ten fully laden caravans of camels, each caravan with its own driver. He loaded them with gold coins and jewels, and made thirty camels carry gold alone. Deep in thought he left his prosperous land, and set off in this way toward the borders of Rome. Near the city lay a village where farmers and townsfolk both had their share. He came to the house of a village headman and asked: 'Is there room for me here?' The elder gave him warm welcome: 'We could never find a guest like you.' He stayed that night, ate, and gave gifts, and received much praise from the villager as well. When dawn broke, he loaded his baggage and set out for the Caesar's court like the wind. He came before the master of the audience hall, greeted him and presented gifts. The man asked: 'Tell me what sort of man you are, for you have both royal bearing and a royal face.' He answered: 'O lord, I am a Persian man, and pious. I set out for trade from another place, and I bring a caravan of fine silk and cloth. Now I have come to this court, hoping the Caesar might grant me access. Whatever of these goods suits him, all the jewels and gear fit for war, let him accept and entrust to his treasurer; I will be glad of it and take no offense. The rest I will sell for gold and silver; I take refuge with the Caesar and do not flinch from fear. I will buy whatever I need from Rome, then return from this prosperous land to Iran.' The old man rose from the court and went to the Caesar and repeated these words. The Caesar ordered the curtain drawn back, and had him brought in from the gate. When Shapur reached the Caesar, he offered greetings as befitted the occasion. The Caesar looked at the noble Shapur, and gave his heart and eyes to his beauty. He ordered a feast and wine prepared, and cleared the hall of all strangers. There was an aggrieved Iranian in Rome, the kind of man who is unjust and ill-fated. He said to the Caesar: 'O exalted one, hear from me one new thing, in secret. This famous merchant, who sells silk for gold coins, I tell you is Shapur, the king of kings, by his speech, his face, his glory and his bearing.' When the Caesar heard this, his mood darkened, and his eyes fixed dazed upon Shapur's face. He posted a guard over him and told no one, keeping the secret hidden. When Shapur grew drunk and rose to leave, the Caesar kept his eyes on him. The guard came and seized him: 'Amazing! You are Shapur, son of Narsi.' They took him to the women's quarters and bound his hands; no man ever escaped the snare of doom by courage alone. When knowledge cannot help in a matter like this, what use is all the astrologer's reckoning? They burned a candle over the drunken man and, cruelly, sewed him into a donkey's hide. Everyone said: 'This wretched, ill-starred man went seeking a donkey's skin and gave up his throne.' There was a house, dark and cramped, and they carried the unlucky man there at once. They flung him into that narrow place and fastened a lock upon the door. The Caesar gave the key to the mistress of the house and left him there, still bound in that alien hide. He told the woman: 'Give him just enough bread and water that keeping him alive is no burden. If he stays alive for a while, perhaps he will learn the worth of throne and crown, and the Caesar's throne will no longer come to his mind, for no one is born of Caesar's line but us.' The Caesar's wife locked that house and made her seat elsewhere in the palace. She had a moon-faced woman as her treasurer, chosen and trusted in every affair, one of Iranian descent, who remembered her lineage from father to father. She entrusted the key of the house to her, where brave Shapur lay bound inside the hide. That same day the Caesar marched his army from that border, leaving Shapur sewn in the skin there. When the Caesar drew near Iran, his soldiers drew their swords of vengeance one and all. The Romans carried off Iranians as captives, and no one could rescue those brave men. In Iran no woman, man or child was left, and nothing remained, great or small. Among the army there was no news of King Shapur, whether he was dead or alive. The whole of Iran fled before Rome, and every border and land was emptied of its people. Countless people of Iran turned Christian, and the whole region submitted to the bishops.

As time passed and these days went by, the army in Iran had scattered. The one who held Shapur captive in Rome never left him alone, night or day. The servant girl found no joy in Shapur's suffering, for she too was of Iranian blood. Night and day she wept over that hide he was sewn in; her heart burned for Shapur. One day she said to him: 'You of the handsome face, what kind of man are you? Don't be afraid, speak to me.' 'For your delicate body inside this hide, your sleep and your peace are torn away.' 'You were once like a cypress with the full moon above it, and that moon crowned with black musk hair.' 'Now the tall cypress has bent into a hoop, and your body, once mighty as an elephant, is worn thin.' 'My heart burns for you; my two eyes weep night and day.' 'What do you seek in such hardship, that you will not tell me your secret?' Shapur said to her: 'You of the lovely face, if any affection for me has stirred in you, I want one promise from you, a sworn oath you will never break, not even a little, forever: that you will not tell my secret to any enemy, nor make my pain and torment known. Then I will tell you what you asked, and reveal the truth plainly in my words.' The girl swore by God, and by the seventy sacred cords of the deacon, by the life of the Messiah and the sorrow of the cross, and by the wronged king of Iran, 'that I will never breathe your secret to anyone, nor seek anything worse from these words.' He told her all his secret, and the whole matter, good and bad, stayed hidden between them. She said to him: 'Now, if you command it and trust your heart with this secret of mine, your head will rise above all noble ladies, and the world will fall beneath your feet. At mealtime I will bring you warm milk; I will keep it hidden and speak of it softly, quietly. I will soak this donkey hide in milk, so that this hide becomes a tale told across the world. Many years will pass after me, and whoever has wisdom will keep telling it.' The girl would ask for warm milk secretly, in a soft voice, hidden from everyone. When it was boiled, she took up a cup and set it swiftly over the fire. She carried it in secret to Shapur, never telling a soul in the world of it. Two weeks of turning sky went by this way, and at last the donkey hide was soaked soft. When Shapur came out of that skin, his heart full of pain, his body full of blood, he then said to the girl in secret: 'You clear-sighted, kind and good-hearted one, now a plan must be made; we must consider every kind of idea, so that we may cross out of the city of Rome. May no blessing rest on such a land.' The girl said to him: 'Tomorrow at dawn these great ones will go off to the festival grounds. There is a festival in Rome where man, woman, and child all come out. When the lady of the house leaves the city and goes to the joyful festival on the plain, the place will be empty, and I, seeking a plan, will act, and fear no monster or threat. Two horses, two maces, arrow and bow I will bring before you with a clear conscience.' First he fixed his heart on the plan in his mind: from the stable he sought out two precious horses, along with the sword, the mace, the horse armor, and the Indian coat of mail and helmet. Through careful thought he set his heart at ease, and made wisdom his guide along that road. When the sun drew its spring down into the west, night pulled its pitch-black veil over its head. The soul of Shapur the king grew full of thought: what would the girl arrange tomorrow at dawn?

When the sun raised its head from the House of Leo, the day grew tall and sleep drained away. Everyone in the city came to the festival, the great ones seeking their share of the celebration. The slave girl set her mind on a plan, as any resourceful person would. When she found the hall empty, she took heart like a lion, a tiger's claw and courage came to her. From the stable she led out two fine horses, and choice weapons of proud riders. As much gold as was needed, and pearls and rubies and every kind of treasure. When all was ready for the journey, night fell and the two of them settled their plan. They turned their faces toward the land of Iran, two happy souls, glad in secret and longing for peace. Night and day, without stop, they rode; they gave no thought to sleep or food. In this way he rode from the eastern city onward to the region of Syria. When horse and body grew weak from riding, he searched for a place to rest. A pleasant village came into view along the road, full of gardens and open squares and festive grounds. His body worn with hardship, fleeing from evil, he came and knocked at a gardener's gate. The gardener came running, a man both kind of heart and hospitable. Seeing two riders with spear and armor and helmet, he greeted Shapur and asked what brought this visit. 'At this late hour, where have you come from, that you set out for such hard riding?' Shapur said to him: 'O kind man, why ask so many questions of a lost traveler? I am an Iranian looking for the road, a fugitive who has turned toward this land. I am full of grief because of the Caesar and his army; may I never see his head or his crown. If you host me tonight, you will act wisely and like a true guardian of the land. I trust that one day it will serve you well: the tree you plant will bear its fruit for you.' The gardener said: 'This is your own home, and the gardener himself is your guest too. Whatever comes within my reach, I will try to bring it and tell no one.' King Shapur dismounted, and the slave girl walked along the path with him. The gardener's wife prepared food, all kinds of it, as much as she could manage. When the meal was done, they set things in order and quickly cleared a modest place. The gardener promptly handed the wine to Shapur: 'Drink to whoever comes to your mind.' Shapur said to him: 'O host, well-spoken and worthy gardener, the one who brings the wine should drink first, since he has more years and more wisdom. You are a little older than I am; since you offer the wine, you should be the one to drink.' The gardener said: 'O gifted one, the one more graced should drink the wine first. You should lead here, for you are old in learning though young in years. A crown seems to rise from your very hair, and the color of ivory shines from your face.' Shapur laughed and took the wine, and drew a cold sigh from deep in his heart. He said to the gardener: 'O pure of faith, what news do you have of the land of Iran?' The gardener answered: 'O noble one, may evil and its doer stay far from you. May our enemy suffer as much harm as the Caesar brought upon the Iranians. Everyone who lived in Iran has been scattered; no sowing or reaping is left in that soil. From so much plunder and killing of men and women, that great gathering of people was broken apart. Many of them even became Christians, taking the girdle before the bishop. Many a patriarch now wears his cap, far from his home and land and place of rest.' Shapur said to him: 'King Hormozd, who shone bright as the moon of Hormozd, where has he gone, that the Caesar has grown so dominant, and fate has darkened the fortune of the Iranians?' The gardener said: 'O exalted one, may lordship and ease be yours forever. No trace of him, dead or alive, reached Iran among those defiant conquerors. All those who came from the settled land are now captives, from end to end, in Rome.' At this the gardener wept bitterly, the man who was then the king's host. The host said to him: 'Stay here three days; this house will be lit up by the world.' For the wise man told this saying long ago: whoever fails to honor a guest, there is no wisdom near him at all, and dark fortune will bring him to need. Stay and rest and drink wine to your heart's content; and when your heart is at ease, tell me your name.' Shapur said to him: 'Your deafness to my secret is fair; for now you are a king as our host.'

That night passed with food and talk and listening, until the dawn lifted its head above the mountains. When the meadow raised a banner of gold, the master of the garden went to his guest. He said to him: may your day be blessed, and may your head rise higher than the rain-giving clouds. This place was not worthy of you, nor was there a fitting seat for your rest. As the guest of a poor man you found no proper food, no fine clothing, and no comfort. Shapur said to him: fortunate man, I chose this house over crown and throne. Bring me a bundle of sacred twigs and the ritual verses, so in whispered prayer I may ask you a question. He brought all that the king had commanded, and his standing rose in the king's eyes. In a hushed voice the king said: tell me the truth, where is the chief priest, where is he now? The gardener answered him like this: kind-hearted man of sweet speech, from where I sit, both my eyes are turned toward that house where the chief priest holds power. Secretly the king told the gardener: ask the master of the village for a sealed rose. When the gardener heard these words from him, he rushed to fetch roses, musk, and wine. The lord of the world set his signet upon the rose, handed it to the gardener, and blessed him. He said: give this rose to the chief priest, and watch closely, listen to every word he says. At the break of dawn the man, carrying the king's seal, came early to the chief priest. When he reached the door of the priest's gate, he found the guards scattered and the door shut. He called out loud for entry at that court, and when the door opened, the gardener went straight in. When he came close before the priest, he showed him the seal and bowed low in respect. When the priest looked and saw that signet ring, the wise counselor's heart leapt with joy. Then he wept a while over that name, and asked the gardener: whose seal is this? He answered: renowned one, this rider is staying at my home. With him is a moon-faced woman, straight as a cypress, wise, graceful, and full of splendor. The priest said to him: seeker of fame, what marks does he bear in height and face? The gardener said: anyone who has seen spring, and a cypress at the edge of a stream, his two arms like the thighs of a swift camel, his chest like a lion's, his face flushed like blood, modesty itself takes color from his seal, and a crown draws its beauty from his face.

When the gardener spoke and the scribe listened, the wise man saw the truth with a clear mind. He knew that lion-hearted man could be none other than the king; such a face belongs only to the throne. The clear-minded scribe found a messenger and sent him to the commander. The message: The glory of King Shapur has appeared; gather your troops from every side. The scribe's messenger came running from where he was to the commander. He said: In the garden of joy and fortune, that royal tree has burst into bloom. The general grew glad at his words; his heart filled with resolve, his lips with breath. He said to the Creator: O true Lord of the world, it is wrong to worship any but you. Who could ever have known that King Shapur would see his army again, and his army see him? Thanks to you, O just and only God, ruler of the world and guide toward all good. When night raised its black banner and stars appeared around the moon, troops came together from every side to the place where the great one stood. They headed toward Syria, riding in ones and twos. They came to the gardener's gate, to their host with joy. When the army had settled at the gate, that pure-minded man came to the king. Then the host said to the king of the world: Blessed is the gardener on this bright night. The army has gathered at this gate; now decide what course you will take. He ordered the way opened for them, though the place was humble. When they came near that seeker of fame, one by one they laid their faces on the ground. The king embraced all the nobles and began to lament the hardships he had endured. He told what he had seen on the donkey-hide, the words of Caesar he had overheard. He also told of the kindness of that beautiful idol of a woman, and all the love she had shown. From her I received my life, and from the Creator; may her days be blessed. And if you are a ruler and a blessed one, you are the servant of a servant full of virtue. I am the servant of this loving servant, open-hearted and gently raised. Wherever my army now stands, and if the kingship and the path are mine, send word to everyone and let them know; spread scouts along the roads. Block the road to Ctesiphon especially; no news must slip through. If Caesar learns of us, that the royal glory has awakened, he will come and uproot my army, and break the heart and back of the Iranians. For now we cannot stand against him, nor can we struggle with his flourishing fortune. When the scribe comes and brings the army, we will close the road so tight not even a gnat can pass. We will prepare and set a new plan, and secretly clear the garden of its thorns. There must be a lookout at every corner, scouts by day and guards by night. After that we will not let a single Roman sleep safely with his guard let down.

Not much time passed in those days before his army swelled to six thousand men. Shapur sent out experienced scouts, seasoned chiefs, toward Ctesiphon, so they might bring word of Caesar, of that mighty court and its splendor. The scouts set off suddenly and secretly searched out how things stood in the world. They saw everything and came back, returning to their proud, exalted king. They said: Caesar is lost in wine and hunting; he gives no thought at all to battle. His army is scattered on every side, out plundering in all directions. By day he keeps no advance guard, by night no watchman; his whole army is like a flock without a shepherd. He sees no enemy anywhere; living carelessly has become his delight. When Shapur heard this, he rejoiced; all his troubles blew away from his heart like wind. He picked three thousand of the Iranians, men in mail, in armored barding, all on horseback. On a dark night he pulled his coat of mail across his chest and led his forces toward Ctesiphon. Through the dark nights he hurried swiftly on; when day broke, he turned his face aside to rest. He rode on through desert and mountain, along that trackless path with his band. More than two leagues ahead of the army his lookout ranged, through pathless ground and road alike. So it went, until, near Ctesiphon, the advance guard pressed on ahead. He reached the enemy camp after two watches of the night had passed; he felt no fear of Caesar in his heart. From that frontier he heard the sound of war drums, the cry of watchmen like the crowing of roosters. A whole plain was full of tents and pavilions, yet no one there had any idea of this raid. Caesar lay drunk with wine in his royal tent, and in that region the army kept no proper post. When Shapur saw the world lay so unguarded, he gave his brave warhorse free rein. He drove his army into the enemy camp, raised his hand and swung his heavy mace. The blast of trumpets rose to the clouds, with the clang of maces and the ring of Indian bells. War cries went up on every side; the clash of blades broke out all around. You would think the sky had split apart and blood of the sun dripped down through the air. There was the flashing of the royal banner of Kaveh in the dark night, and the gleam of violet-blue swords. You would think the air was raining down blades and the whole world was wrapped in fog. The mountain vanished behind the dust of the army; the stars drew in their skirts and hid. Shapur turned the tents of the helpless Caesar upside down, into utter ruin. In every corner they set fires; they seemed to slam the sky down upon the earth. In the end Caesar was taken prisoner, and his lucky star turned away from him. And from those tents, his famous men, his brave and chosen riders, they seized many and put them in chains. Such is the way of the lofty turning heaven. Sometimes it lifts a man high, sometimes it brings him low; sometimes joy, and sometimes terror. It is better to be harmless and humane, for then the Maker of the world stands as your helper.

When night pulled its skirt across the day, the banner of the sun rose into view from above. Shapur gave the order and the scribe came forward; he called for pen and ink, musk and silk. They wrote a letter to every chief, to every king and every land. At the head of the letter he set praise from us, the servant, to the Creator of the world. For He alone has the power to do good; in His strength He needs no one. He is the maker of the age; He alone is the teacher of goodness. Consider the Caesar, who cast aside God's command and sowed nothing but the seed of evil in Iran. Now in misery he grinds against his chains, since his soul had no wisdom to guide it. The crown of Iran was handed to him, yet he carried off from the world nothing but a name of shame. That army and that court fell apart, by the power of God, who showed the way. Whoever is a Roman in the city must get his share from the sword. Seek justice and obey the command; renew the covenant properly from the start. A swift dromedary set out from every side, racing with the letter of the bright-souled king. He came from the army camp toward Ctesiphon, and sat down safely with his guide. When he placed his ancestors' crown on his head, he gave thanks for the Judge's gift of goodness. He ordered the scribe to go to the prison and write down the names of the captives in ink. The count came to eleven hundred and ten of Rome's nobles, those who were famous. All were the Caesar's kin and relations, the very chief men of Rome. The world-ruler cut off the hands and feet of everyone who had led others into evil. He gave the order to bring the Caesar of Rome, the commander of that land. The jailer went and, dragging the Caesar by the hand, brought him from prison like one who had fainted. When the tormented man saw Shapur's face, his tears streamed down his cheeks. He pressed his flushed face to the ground, praising the crown and the throne. He swept the whole ground with his eyelashes, and pressed his hair and face into the dust. The king said to him: You who are wholly evil, a Christian and an enemy of God, you call One who has no equal a son, One who has no end or beginning in this world. You know how to speak nothing but lies, and a lie is a fire without light. If you are a Caesar, where is your shame and wisdom? Where is the heart that guides you to good? Why did you make a fetter of donkey hide and throw greatness into the dust? I came like a merchant to a feast, not with war drums and an army to battle. You wrap a guest in donkey hide, then turn on Iran and raise an army. Now you will see the war of true men, so that afterward you never seek battle with Iran. The Caesar said to him: O king, who can escape God's command? Fate drove wisdom far from me, O king, and made my soul a hireling of the demon. If you repay evil with kindness, you will become a legend in the world, so that your name never grows old, and all your desires are fulfilled through manliness. If I win from you a pardon for my life, treasure and gold will seem worthless to my eyes. I will be a servant at your court, seeking nothing but the adornment of your place. The king said to him: You wicked, worthless man, why did you turn this land upside down? Now everyone you carried off from Iran as a captive, I will demand all of them back from you, without exception. And every treasure you carried off to Rome, may you never again see that ill-fated land, you will bring it all back from your house and deliver it proudly to this army. Everywhere in Iran that has been ruined and become a lair for leopards and lions, you will rebuild it all with your own gold, and receive the reward of your deeds. Further, for every Iranian you killed, you will seek out from Rome one of noble Kayanid lineage; you will pay ten Romans in ransom for each one, and pledge your own soul as a guarantee of the bargain. I want none but men of Caesar's own line, who will be content with us in this land. Further, every tree you cut down in Iran, no fortunate man cuts down a flourishing tree, you will plant again, and rebuild the walls, so you may lessen a little of the anger in men's hearts. Now I will bind you in a fetter, for how could I be satisfied binding you in donkey hide? If you fail to carry out all I have said, they will strip your skin from head to foot. He split his two ears with a dagger like forked branches, and pierced a hole through his nose in one place. He set a bridle through his nose, since Shapur remembered that donkey hide. He clamped two heavy shackles on his feet, and the jailer took him back to his place.

They set up the audience hall and the court, and called for the keys to the treasuries. The army gathered as the day dawned, his head full of vengeance and his heart full of fury. From Iran he marched all the way to the Roman frontier, killing everyone who lived in that land. They slaughtered the people and burned their homes, setting a whole world ablaze. When word reached Rome from Iran that this flourishing land had been laid waste, the renowned Caesar found himself trapped, caught on the dark battlefield of war. All of Rome broke into weeping, seared with grief at the name of Shapur. Everyone kept asking who had done this evil, unless it was Caesar, that ignoble coward, who died for it. Caesar had a brother, his father dead and his mother still living, a young man named Yanus, ambitious, generous, and cheerful. An army gathered at his door, and his war-hungry mother gave out coins to pay them. She told him: Avenge your brother. Don't you see the Iranian army has come? When Yanus heard this he seethed and said: A brother's blood cannot be left unavenged. He beat the war drums and brought out the cross, a great cross and a terrifying army. When the two armies came face to face, the vengeful men could not stay still. They drew up their ranks and a great roar arose; Yanus came running to the front. A cloud and black dust rose up, so thick the eye lost its way in the darkness. On one side the army had a mountain, on the other a great mass of water. It went on this way until the sun turned yellow, dust of battle rising on every side. So many were killed that the face of the earth turned iron with the armor of the dead. When Shapur drove his army out from the center, he called his chosen men to left and right. As the king spurred his horse with his nobles, the ground trembled and the army writhed. He charged at the Roman army; to him a great man and a small one were the same. Yanus realized he could not withstand the king; he turned and fled with his army. Behind them the hero Shapur gave chase, his dust stealing the light from the sky. In every place he raised a heap of the slain, staining the grasses with their brains. He killed so many of that Roman army that a whole plain was nothing but severed heads. No army was left on the plain, no cross; no crucifix and no bishop were left in the fortresses. He seized so much plunder from every place that his own army stood amazed at it. He divided it all among the soldiers; only Caesar's treasure was set aside for the king. For he had seen suffering come from that treasure; the treasure and its suffering were never far apart. The whole Roman army gathered together and told tales about Caesar, saying: May we never have such a lord again, may the name of Caesar be gone from Rome. In Rome no altar was left standing, no cross, no Christ, no chanted hymn. The priest's sacred belt was burned, the crucifix and the bishop set aflame. Now Rome and Kannauj are one to us, for the voice of the Christian faith has grown faint.

There was a man from the line of leaders, from the famous stock of the caesars. Baranush was his name, a wise man; his speech and soul were full of restraint and thought. The army said to him: 'Be our caesar. Be the chief over this army and this land.' 'The troops will listen to your words. Light up the crown and adorn the throne.' They set up an ivory throne before them, and Baranush sat with the crown on his head. They seated him in the place of greatness, and all the Romans sang his praises. Baranush sat and gave it thought, about Rome and about the field of battle. He knew that harm would come to him from the exalted king, from Rome, and from this conflict. He sought an envoy, one of judgment and modesty, who could speak wisdom in a gentle voice. A great scribe, one who had seen the world, wise, learned, and admired. He brought him and seated him close, and told him his most delicate thoughts. He wrote a letter full of praise, from the Creator to the king of the earth. 'May your crown endure forever, and may all nobles be your servants.' 'You know what plunder and bloodshed mean, and what it is to strike at innocent people.' 'Proud great men count it as an ill omen, whether against the land of Iran or the borders of Rome.' 'As for the old blood-feud for Iraj, Manuchehr settled it long ago through valor.' 'Salm's body turned to dust from that feud, and the earth was cleansed of Tur as well.' 'And if it is the feud of Dara and Alexander, whose reign brought new judgment upon the world,' 'his own two ministers had killed him, and besides, his fortune had already turned against him.' 'If the caesar's grudge keeps growing in you, the chains rub away in your prison.' 'The land of Rome must not be laid waste, for there has never been a land like Rome.' 'And if plunder and killing are your plan, all of Rome is left helpless and powerless.' 'Its women and children are your captives, their hearts wounded by sword and arrow.' 'The time has come to soften your grudge and rage, and to close your eyes on the past.' 'Let all our wealth be a ransom to you, since this feud is only wearing lives away.' 'Ease your heart and burn no more of this city, so that day may not pass into worse days.' 'It does not please the Creator of the world for a ruler to seek unjust revenge.' 'May the Creator's blessing be upon the king; may his star be high and his crown be the moon.' The writer then laid down his pen, once he had written that royal letter. Then they set the caesar's seal upon it, and the envoy set his face toward the king. The wise man came and delivered the letter from the caesar to Shapur of noble birth. When they read that famous letter aloud, they scattered praise on its fine words. He showed mercy, his eyes filled with tears, and his warrior brows drew tight. At once he wrote a reply, recounting all that had happened, the good and the ugly. He wrote: 'Who was it that sewed a guest into a donkey's hide, who lit up the old marketplace of vengeance?' 'Gather your wisdom, rise, and come before me, you and your philosophers of pure judgment.' 'Since I have granted you safety, I will not make war on you; I will open this narrow road before you.' The envoy turned back and carried the reply, recounting every word one by one.

When Branush saw the answer to the letter, his pure heart bloomed with joy. He ordered the nobles of Rome, and a hundred men set out from that land. They loaded sixty measures of silver coin, along with jewels and rich garments to wear. As an offering, thirty thousand gold pieces were gathered from every direction, a whole treasury. All the great men came before the king, their heads bare, without their caps. When they poured out the gold before him, they spread and sifted the old coin. Shapur forgave them and treated them kindly, seating each in his proper rank. He said to Branush: from the land of Rome came many cruel and evil men. What was flourishing land in Iran has now become nothing but thickets of thorns. I want recompense for all that lies ruined, turned into the lair of leopards and lions. Branush said: speak, tell me what is needed; since you have granted quarter, do not turn your face away. The noble king answered thus: if you want me to forgive the whole offense, then three times a year you must pay countless thousands of Roman gold coins. And another thing: Nisibis shall be mine, if you want my grudge to be cut short. Branush said: Iran is yours; Nisibis and the plain of the brave are yours. I accept this heavy tribute and tax, for we have no strength to face your rage and wrath. They wrote a treaty in the name of King Shapur: that from then on no army would march from Iran, except in fitting and welcome cause, wherever Rome would suffer no loss from it. After that he sent them off with honor and raised these noblemen high. When they had gone, he set his army in motion and called often on the Maker of the world. Joyful, he traveled to Estakhr in Pars, for Estakhr was the pride of the land of Pars. When they got the news in Nisibis, they all rushed eagerly to war, saying: it must not be that King Shapur seizes Nisibis and brings his army here, for he does not hold the faith of the Messiah true; his creed is Zoroaster, the Zend and the Avesta. When he comes he will not heed our words; we will not want the Avesta and that old faith. The lowly rose above their masters; in vengeance every townsman mounted his saddle. When word reached King Shapur that they had barred the way into Nisibis, the king grew enraged at the faith of the Messiah and sent a countless army on the road. He said: a prophet whom the Jews killed, his faith deserves no praise. The army set off like a whirlwind, horsemen and lions of the day of battle. For a whole week the fighting raged there; in that city things grew desperate with war. They killed many of their leaders and laid heavy chains on the living. Then they all begged for quarter and wrote a letter to the king. The renowned king forgave them and ordered the army to turn back. In every land he took a famous stronghold, and so gained mastery over the world. They called him the victorious king, and for a long while he held the crown and the throne. The slave girl who had once rescued him and brought him to such fortune, he named Delforuz and Farrokhpish, and among the lovely ones made her his beloved. He gave the gardener too much wealth and sent him off adorned with gifts. The Caesar stayed in prison and in chains, in misery and disgrace, wounded by the lash of the lasso. All the treasure he had in Rome, gathered painfully from every side, he brought and handed over entirely to Shapur, and for a while he lingered with empty boasting. At last he died in bondage and prison, and passed the royal crown to another. Shapur sent him back to Rome in a coffin, with musk sprinkled on the crown at his head. He said: this is our ending; I do not know where our resting place will be. One man is all crudeness and folly; another has wisdom and grace. For this one and that, the day still passes; blessed is the one who does not walk the world in evil. He set his foot on the throne of the kings and for a time was the master of the world. After that, to the land of Khuzistan, he sent much benefit and much loss. For the captives he built a city and filled the world with wealth from that region. The city was named Khorramabad, and whoever had a share in that pleasant land, even one whose hand had been cut off before, found a dwelling place in this territory. The whole land and soil belonged to him, and at the start of each new year he received a robe of honor. He built another city in Syria and named it Piruz-Shapur. The third city he built in Ahvaz, with a palace and a hospital inside it. They named it the abode of captives, and there the captive found rest and contentment.

Fifty years of his reign had passed, with no equal to him in all his time. A gifted speaker came from China, a painter whose like the world had never seen. Skilled with his hand and successful in his craft, a proud man named Mani. He claimed his painting made him a prophet, superior to all who brought faith to the world. He came from China and sought an audience with Shapur, asking the king to join him in his prophethood. The eloquent man spoke his piece, but the ruler grew suspicious of his words. His mind sharpened, he summoned the priests and spoke with them at length. He said: this eloquent man from China has made me doubt his creed. Question him and hear him out; see whether you come to believe his talk. They said: this man worships mere images, he is no match for the learned priests. Give him a while, hear him, call him in; when he faces us, how will his tongue loosen? The king ordered the chief priest brought before Mani, and the priest spoke with him beyond all measure. Mani was left speechless mid-argument by the priest's words drawn from the ancient faith. He said to him: you image worshipper, why do you raise a reckless hand against God? The One who made the high heavens, and made within them place and time, in whom light and darkness both reside, whose essence is above every essence, night and day, the turning lofty sky, your shelter and your harm come from Him. All is the work of the Creator, nothing else; no one but Him can make this creation. Why do you trust an image as your proof and refuse to hear the counsel of the prophets? All things have partners and equals, but God is one; you have no purpose but to serve Him. If you can make this painted image move, then it is fitting you prove it by a living thing. Don't you know your proof will not hold? No one accepts such reasoning as sound. If Ahriman were God's equal, the dark night would shine bright as day. Night and day would stay balanced all year long, with no increase or decrease in their turning. The world's Creator cannot be grasped by thought, for He is above both time and place. These are nothing but the words of madmen; in this no one will stand beside you. He said much else besides this, all of it joined with knowledge and humanity. Mani was left helpless before his words; his flourishing marketplace withered away. Then the king grew furious with Mani, and fortune's turning wheel closed in on him. He ordered that they seize him and cast him out in disgrace from the court. He said: this image worshipping man has no place to sit within this house. Since the world's turmoil and peace rest with Him, this man's skin must be stripped from head to foot. Then the hide, stuffed with straw, so that no one seeks this rank again. They hung it at the city gate, and then before the wall of the hospital. A whole world called down blessings on the king, and scattered dust upon the slain man.

Under Shapur the days ran so smoothly that in the garden no one saw a thorn among the roses. Through his justice, his wisdom, his resolve, through all his striving, his wars, and his cunning, no enemy was left to him in any land, and evil found no dwelling place on earth. When at last he lost hope in the high wheel of fate, and his years had passed seventy and more, he summoned before him the scribe, along with Ardeshir, the chief of the priests, a young man who was his younger brother, whose crown was justice and wisdom itself, his name was Ardeshir the Young, capable and shrewd in gain and loss alike. The king had a small son named Shapur, who had not yet come of age in the world. Then the king spoke to Ardeshir: 'You, brave and nimble horseman, bold one, if you make a just covenant with me and pledge your tongue as surety to that promise, that when my son grows into manhood and reaches the age of courage and valor, you will hand over to him the throne, the treasury, and the army, and be his minister and true wellwisher, then I will give this royal crown to you, and leave to you the treasury and the troops as well.' Ardeshir accepted this from him before the nobles and before the scribe: 'When the child grows into manhood and becomes worthy of the diadem and royal crown, I will hand over the whole kingdom to him, and act toward him with nothing but goodwill.' When Shapur heard this before the great ones, he gave him the diadem and the seal of kings. Then the king said to Ardeshir: 'Do not take the affairs of the world lightly.' Know this, my brother: a king's injustice keeps no guard on his kingship. He rejoices in hoarding treasure, and the proud lift their heads through harshness. Blessed is the king who is just and worships God, the one whose subjects' hearts are glad because of him. He grows greater through justice and giving, and guides the world along that path. He guards his country from its enemies, and raises his head and crown to the clouds. Through justice and peace he fills his treasury, and by generosity he scatters sorrow from the heart. To let the sin of the sinner pass, to keep alive the way of humanity, whoever seeks out these virtues needs wisdom, caution, and sound judgment. A king must have wisdom, without fail, and also the teaching of both young and old. When a king's heart inclines to love, the heavens keep his desires fresh. The subject's body is prone to sin, unless he is a pure man who worships God. A person's heart and mind are the two kings of the body; the other organs are the body's army. When a person's mind and heart are corrupted, in despair they are stripped of sound reason. Then the spirit grows bewildered in that body; how can an army survive under a king with no champion? When the mind is not clear, it falls apart, and the soulless body is cast into the dust. Just so is the unjust king: through him the world is soon turned upside down. After death a curse lies upon him, and his name will be 'the king without faith.' Keep your eyes on this, and keep your ears on that: it is God who holds soul and mind. Any king who seeks a road other than this must wash his heart and hands of goodness. His subjects scatter from his land, and the loyal servants scatter from his court. Do you not see what the wise man says, how he washes your heart clean of crookedness? That every king who is worthy of praise finds all his affairs increasing and prospering. The man whose trade is cruelty is despised; do not linger around the doors of the greedy. Know this, my brother: the wise man seeks all kinds of qualities in a ruler. First, that he be victorious, and never turn his face from the enemy in battle. Second, that he keep his army with justice, and recognize the worth of men of good stock. Someone raised at the royal court will not wish to be the chief of the army. Fourth, that toward his subjects, and likewise his noble attendants, he does not keep the treasury door tightly shut; a fruitful tree lets its fruit fall from the branch. In a kingdom the army is necessary, and the army keeps watch over the treasury. If you keep your treasury flourishing through justice, you are glad of the treasury, and the army is glad of you. Keep your weapons ready and in good order; it is fitting, for they may serve you on a dark night. Do not feel too safe about your own defense; and once you are safe, set your affairs in order. In the end death will surely come to you, whether you are a dim thing or the lamp of the world. When the brother heard this he wept awhile; once he had written down the counsel, he lived a year longer. He passed away, and this saying remained as a keepsake: do not sow the seed of harshness in the world. For in a single moment your day passes, and the fruit of your toil is devoured by your enemy. Since it was Friday, the day of Bahman, this was a blessed occasion for the work. Bring me the ruby wine, Hashemi, from a vat that never runs low. Now that I am sixty-three and my ears have grown deaf, why should I seek grandeur and glory from having more? Now I will tell the tales of King Ardeshir; take my words and keep them in mind.