English
Part 6: Shapur's Escape from Rome
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?