When he had heard, the Sháh's brain seethed with anger.
“O man of prudence!” thus he made reply,

“Thou needest no excuse, for I have eyes
And have discerned this for myself already.
Tell mine unholy and abandoned sons—
This pair of Áhrimans with dregs of brains:—
‘'Tis well that ye reveal your natures thus
And send a greeting worthy of yourselves;
For if your brains are empty of my teaching,
And ye have no idea what wisdom is,
Not fearing God, ye could not well do other.
My hair was once as black as pitch, my stature
Was cypress-tall, my face was like the moon.
The sky which hath bent down this back of mine
Is yet unfallen and revolveth still:
So time will bend you too, and even that
Which bendeth you itself will not endure.
Now by the highest name of holy God,
By yon bright sun, and by the teeming ground,
By throne, by crown, by Venus and the moon,
I never cast an evil look upon you.
I called the sages into conference,
The archimages and astrologers;
Abundant time was spent therein that so
We might divide the earth with equity;
I had no object but to deal with fairness;
There was no knavery from first to last;
My secret motive was the fear of God,
My longing to fulfil all righteousness;
Since earth was given to me full of men
It was no wish of mine to scatter them;
I said: “On each of my three lucky Eyes
Will I bestow a populous dominion.”
If Áhriman hath now seduced your hearts
From mine advice to dark and crookéd ways,
Consider if the Omnipotent will look
With approbation on this deed of yours.
One proverb will I speak if ye will hear:—
“The crop that ye have sown that shall ye reap.”
He that instructed me was wont to say:—
“Our other home is that which will endure.”
But your lusts sit where reason should be throned.
Why are ye thus confederate with the Dív?
I fear that in that Dragon's clutch your bodies
And souls will part. Now that I leave the world
It is no time for wrath and bitterness;
Yet thus he saith—the man consumed with years,
Who had three sons, three men of noble birth:—
By hearts released from passions dust is held
As precious as the wealth of king of kings;
But whoso selleth brother for the dust
Men rightly say that he was bastard-born.
The world hath seen and will see men like you
In plenty; but it cottoneth to none.
Now if ye know aught of avail with God
To save you on the Day of Reckoning,
Seek that, make it the provand for the way
And be less careful for the things of earth!’”
The envoy hearing kissed the ground and went;
Thou wouldst have said: “His way-mate is the wind.”
The envoy being gone the Sháh resumed
His seat, then called his noble son Íraj
And told both what had chanced and what might be:—
“Those sons of mine with hearts intent on war
Have set themselves against us from the West.
Their stars dispose them to delight in ill;
Besides their troughs are in two provinces,
Whose fruit is savagery. They will enact
The brother's part while thou shalt wear the crown,
And when thy ruddy face is pale in death
Will shun thy pillow. If thou puttest love
Before the sword thy head will ache with strife,
For from both corners of the world my sons
Have shown their real intent. If thou wouldst fight
Make ready, ope the treasury, bind the baggage;
Secure the cup while thou art breaking fast,
For if not they will sup on thee, my son!
Thou needst not earthly helpers, thine allies
Are truth and innocence.”

The good Íraj

Gazed on that loving Sháh, his glorious sire,
And said: “My lord! consider how time passeth
Like wind above us. Why should wise men fret?
It withereth the cheek of cercis-bloom,
It darkeneth the radiant spirit's eyes;
It is at first a gain and then a pain,
And when the pain is done we pass away.
Since then our couch is dust, our pillow brick,
Why plant to-day a tree whose roots will ever
Be drinking blood, whose fruit will be revenge?
The earth hath seen and will see many lords
With scimitar and throne and signet-ring
Like us; but they who wore the crown of old
Made not a habit of revenge. I too,
The king permitting, will not live in ill.
I want not crown and throne. I will approach
My brothers in all haste and unattended,
And say: ‘My lords, dear as my soul and body!
Forbear your anger and abandon strife:
Strife is unlovely in religious men.
Why set your hopes so much upon this world?
How ill it used Jamshíd who passed away
At last, and lost the crown and throne and girdle!
And you and I at length must share his lot.
Live we in joy together and thus safe

From foes.’ I will convert their vengeful hearts:
What better vengeance can I take than that?”
The Sháh replied: “Thy brethren, my wise son!
Are set on fight while thou wouldst have a feast.
I cannot but recall this saw to mind:—
‘It is no marvel if the moon is bright.’
An answer such as thine becometh well
Thy virtuous self; thou art for brotherhood
And love, but doth a prudent man expose
His priceless life and head to dragon's breath,
Since naught but biting venom cometh thence
By nature? Yet, if such be thy resolve,
Take order for thy going and set forth.
Select a retinue among the troops
To go with thee, and I will write a letter,
With sorrow in my heart, to those two men.
Oh! may thy safe return rejoice my sight,
For when I look on thee my soul is bright.”