Anon, and when the world-illuming crown
Grew bright, Táír, the 'Ínánian lion-hearted,
Whose scimitar would bolden heaven, led forth
From Rúm and Párs, from Kurdistán, Bahrain,
And Kádisíya, up to Taisafún
When Shápúr
Was six and twenty, and had grown to be
A valiant, sun-like monarch, he reviewed
His troops upon the plain and chose him out
Twelve thousand warriors and for each a camel
Wind-footed, and a hundred guides withal.
The warriors mounted, leading each his steed.
Then too the Sháh himself and his own meiny
Took seat upon their beasts. He girded up
His royal belt for raiding and pursued
The monarch of the 'Ínánians—Táír,
That over-weening one, that raging Lion—
And slaughtered many of his warriors,
Which when Táír perceived he showed his back.
Then followed hue and cry, and many captives
Were taken while that host fled to a stronghold
Within Yaman; men, women, children wailed.
Shápúr led forth such forces that the ways
Were barred to ant and gnat. He found*
Táír
With troops within the hold, and turned from him
The means of fight and flight. The siege continued
A month both day and night, the garrison
Ran short of food. One morning full of ardour
Shápúr, the hero, mounted on his steed
With bow in hand, a kingly, black cuirass
Upon his breast and black flag fluttering o'er him.
Now Málika looked from the castle-walls,
And saw that flag and head of chiefs, whose cheeks
Were then like rose-leaves and his hair like musk,
His lips like jujubes and his breath musk-scented.
Both sleep and peace went from her; with her heart
Possessed by love, she sought her nurse, and said:—
“This sun-like Sháh, come hither for revenge,
Is great, my very blood, and him I call
‘The world’ because he is the world to me.
Now bear a message for me to Shápúr;
He came to fight us, bid him to a feast
She replied: “As thou commandest
So will I speak and bring thee news of him.”
When night and murk took kingship of the earth
From sea to sea, when it became pitch-hued,
The hills like indigo, the stars like lamps,
And thou hadst said: “Three hundred thousand lights
Have been suspended from the eighth heaven,” the nurse
Went quaking, full of fear and fright. Her heart
Was sundered through her terror of Táír.
She reached the camp, approached a trusty man,
And said: “If thou wilt bring me to the Sháh,
Thou shalt receive from me a crown and ring.”
That wise and prudent man conducted her
Toward the valiant monarch from the gate.
She came, with her eyelashes swept the ground,
And told him all. Her words rejoiced the Sháh,
Who smiled. He gave her fifty score dínárs,
A necklace, pair of bracelets, crown, and cloak
Embroidered with brocade of Chín, and answered:—
“Speak much and kindly to the moon-faced maid,
And say to her: ‘He sware by sun and moon,
The girdle of Zarduhsht,*
the throne and crown:—
“Whate'er thou askest of me, though it be
To cantle mine own realm, thine ear shall hear
No angry word from me, nor will I seek
To part from thine embrace.”’ For I will buy her,
God willing, at the cost of throne and crown,
Of treasure and of host.”
On hearing this
She hurried from the camp back to the hold,
Informed the silver Cypress what had passed,
And added: “Venus is conjunct with Sol.”
She told of Sháh Shápúr, his looks and height,
All she had noted of that Moon so bright.