How Shírwí, the Son of Khusrau Parwíz, was born of Maryam with bad Auspices and how Khusrau Parwíz informed Cæsar
When he had reigned five years he had no peer,
And in the sixth year Cæsar's daughter bare him
An infant like the moon. 'Twas not the custom
To give the call to prayers*
in infants' ears
If delicately nurtured. Fathers spake
One name into their ears—a private one*
—
The other name was publicly announced.
The Sháh in private called his son Kubád,
But publicly Shírwí of glorious race.
When of that night of birth there had elapsed
Three watches the astrologers approached
Khusrau Parwíz who asked: “What have all those
Who read the stars observed, what will result,
And what is this young world-lord's horoscope?”
They said: “Thou canst not scape the sky's decree.
The earth will be in turmoil through this child;
His army will not bless him. He withal
Will quit God's path. What need we further say?”
The upshot of their travail and those words
Unseemly grieved the Sháh's heart, and he said
Thus to the sages: “Take a better view.
Be careful that ye speak no word thereof
Before the Íránian chiefs.”
He took good heed
Of that ill horoscope and laid it up
When he had sealed it with his royal signet.
The matter filled him with concern; he gave
No audience for a se'nnight and refrained
From chase and wine. None saw him for a space.
The chieftains all resorted to the archmage,
And held discourse at large to ascertain
What had befallen the illustrious Sháh,
And why he gave not audience to his lieges.
He bade
The treasurer: “Bring forth the painted silk
With script therein.”
The treasurer produced,
The archmage scanned heart-straitened, and was
mute,
But in the end said: “God is all in all,
For He surpasseth all men's understanding.
Now if the blindly turning sky presenteth
An altered aspect to the questioner
How can concernment make it turn from ill?
Why then should any sage suggest such things?
May naught but joy be thine. Heed not their talk.
We reap as heaven soweth and perforce
Must trust thereto. While heaven itself shall last
At whiles will love and justice and at whiles
Strife and revenge prevail. From it the body
Hath gain and loss. The understanding soul
Is not afraid. The Maker be thy stay
And comforter, and fortune's head be laid
Upon thy lap.”
Thereat Khusrau Parwíz
Smiled and then gave his mind to other things.
He called a trusty scribe, instructed him
At large, and bade him write to Cæsar thus:—
“Put on a crown fit for a king to wear,
For in the night Maryam hath borne a son,
Whose like thou ne'er hast seen. He needs must be
Both wise and fortunate, and through his virtues
Both worthy of the throne and bountiful.
So, as I do myself, live happily,
For joy and high estate pertain to thee.”