Now when the launderer came back from the stream
At that untimely hour his wife exclaimed:—
“Is this thy husbandry to bring the clothes
Half dried? Whoe'er will pay thee for such work?”
The launderer, heart-withered then by grief
Because his own bright little one was dead,
For whom his wife was all disconsolate
With lacerated cheeks and darkened soul,
Replied: “Cheer up! Henceforth for thee to wail
Will be but scurvy, for if my good wife
Can keep a secret I will tell a thing:
Upon the watercourse, against the stone
Whereon I beat the clothes and rinse them out
When I have finished cleaning them, I spied
An ark, and hidden in it was a babe—

A little one that thou wilt love at sight
As soon as ever I uncover it.
'Tis true that we have had one of our own,
Though for a little while and he is dead,
But now thou hast one unawares—a son
All furnished with dínárs and jewelry!”
With that he set the clothes upon the ground,
And lifted up the cover of the ark.
The launderer's wife beheld and in her wonder
Exclaimed: “God bless it!” for she saw a cheek
Aglow amid the silk—Bahman's own image!
His pillow was all pearls of finest water,
With emeralds and cornelians for his footstool;
Upon his left hand there were red dínárs,
And on his right hand jewels in profusion.
The woman suckled him immediately,
Rejoicing over that entrancing babe,
Whose beauty and whose wealth consoled her heart.
The launderer said to her: “We must be ever
Prepared to give our lives up for this child,
Because he is the son of some great man,
May be a king himself.”

The launderer's wife

Cared for the child as it had been her kin,
As it had been her very son indeed,
And on the third day named the babe Dáráb,
Because they found his cradle in the stream.*

It happened that one day the careful wife
Was talking to her lord of many things,
And said to him: “How wilt thou use these gems?
Let wisdom be thy counsellor therein.”
“Good wife!” the launderer answered, “hoarded jewels
And dust are one to me. 'Tis best for us
To quit this city, move out to the plains,
Relieved from straits and hardship, and reside
Within some city, where folk know us not,
Content and affluent.”

At morn he packed,

Departed, and forgot those fields and fells.
They bore Dáráb with them and carried naught
Beside except the gold and jewelry.

They journeyed from the place for three score leagues,
They made their home within another city,
And there within that alien city lived
Like wealthy folk. A famous magnate dwelt
Therein, and unto him the launderer sent
One of the jewels, taking in return
Apparel, gold, and silver. Thus he did
Until he had exchanged them nearly all,
And there remained one ruby in the house
Of what the ark had held for good or ill.
One day the wife, who was the manager,
Said to her master: “We need work no longer.
Since thou hast made thy fortune give up trade.”
He answered her: “Good wife and guide! thou
speakest
Of trade. Well, what is better? Trade is ever
The first concern. Tend well Dáráb and mark
What time will yet produce for thee through him.”
They cherished him so dearly that he felt
No ill from any blast. When heaven had wheeled
Above him for some years he grew to be
A youth of stature and of Grace divine,
And wrestled with his playmates in the street,
Where none could match him as to bulk and strength,
Yea, all combined against him and were worsted!
The launderer grumbled at these escapades,
Which made the outlook gloomy for the shop,
And said: “Now beat these clothes upon the stone;
'Tis no disgrace to thee to learn a craft,”
And when Dáráb, as usual, left the work,
And ran away, the launderer used to weep
In tears of blood and wasted nearly all
His time in searching countryside and city,
And coming on the boy with bow in hand,
His breast extended and his thumbstall on,
Would seize the bow and cry indignantly:—
“O thou destructive and pugnacious Wolf!
Why dost thou hanker after bow and arrows?
Why art thou set on evil while so young?”
Thereat Dáráb would answer: “O my father!
Thou turn'st the brightness of my life to gloom.
Provide me first of all with men of lore,
That I may get by heart the Zandavasta,
And then command my toils for trade and stream,
But do not yet require this drudgery.”
The launderer, having often rated him,
At last consigned him to the care of teachers.
He learned accomplishments, grew masterful,
And wholly past fault-finding and reproach.
“My father,” said he to his foster-sire,
“This laundry business is not fit for me;
Be not at all concerned on mine account,
But bring me up to be a cavalier.”
The launderer thereupon selected one
Of good repute and skilled in horsemanship,
And long committed to his charge the youth,
Who learnt from him whate'er was requisite—
The way to handle rein and lance and buckler,
And wheel his charger on the battlefield,
To play at polo, shoot with bow and arrow,
And outwit foes, till he attained such might
That leopards would not close with him in fight.