A skilled scribe wrote upon white silk a letter
Both kind and harsh, inspiring hope and fear,
First praising God, the Source of every good,
“Who gave man wisdom, made the turning sky,
Revealing hardship, cruelty, and love,
Who gave to us to compass good and ill,
And ruleth o'er the circling sun and moon…

If thou art upright and thy Faith is pure
All men will praise thee, but the curse of heaven
Will fall on thee if ill-disposed and hurtful.
If God is just why should His laws be broken?
Observe how He in punishment for sin
Is sending dust from dív and sorcerer!
So now if news hath reached thee of their fate,
And mind and wisdom are thy monitors,
Quit thou thy throne and from Mázandarán
Come, like our other subjects, to our court,
And, as thou canst not strive with Rustam, pay
Such tax and tribute as we may demand.
Thus haply thou mayst still retain thy throne;
But if thou wilt not pay despair of life,
E'en as the White Dív and Arzhang despaired.”
The letter done, the Sháh affixed his seal
Of musk and spicery, and called Farhád—
Him of the mace of steel, a favourite
Among the nobles of the land, and one
Who had not shared the warfare and the toil—
To whom he said: “Convey to yonder dív
Escaped from bonds this letter of advice.”
He kissed the ground, bare the Sháh's letter forth,
And reached the valiant horsemen, the Narmpái.*

The people there with leathern feet appear,
Hence their nickname Narmpái for many a year.
There lived among his chiefs and men of war
The monarch of Mázandarán of yore.
Farhád sent on a man to tell the king
Of his approach and business, who on hearing:—
“A prudent envoy cometh from the Sháh,”
Sent forward to receive him a great host,

Selected by the king to show his power,
To whom he said: “We must make known to-day
How great the difference is 'twixt man and dív,
So act the pard and get these sages' leader
Within your clutches that he may repent
Himself in terror at the sight of you.”
They went forth frowning but their purpose failed.
On coming to Farhád one of the chiefs—
A mighty man—took hold upon his hand.
Wrung it, and pained him, yet he did not blench,
Or flush. They carried him before the king,
Who asked about Káús and that long journey,
Then set the document before a scribe,
And sprinkled wine and musk upon the silk,
He read the letter to the king who writhed;
But when he heard of Rustam and the dív
Blood filled his eyes, his heart throbbed, and he
thought:—
“'Tis sunset and night cometh, 'tis the time
For rest, but Rustam will not let earth rest,
His name will always be in evidence.”
He mourned Arzhang and the White Dív, the slaying
Of Bíd and of Púlád son of Ghundí,
Then entertained the envoy for three days
Among the warriors and men of name,
And on the fourth said: “Go back to the Sháh.
That witless youth, and bear to him this answer:—
'Is wine unmingled in the cup of fortune?
Am I such that thou sayest: “Quit thy land,
Thy throne and country, and attend my court?”
My court is more exalted than thine own,
Mine are a thousand thousand troops and more,
And wheresoe'er they turn them in the fight
They leave not stone or colour or perfume.
Propare thyself forthwith; I shall be ready;
I will lead forth an army lion-like
And rouse those heads of yours from their sweet
slumbers.
I have twelve hundred elephants of war,
While thou hast none, and I will send dark dust
Up from Írán till hills and vales seem one.’”
Farhád, perceiving his defiance, pride,
And arrogance, was much concerned to get
An answer to the letter, hastened back,
And told the Sháh what he had seen and heard:—
“The king is higher than heaven and his purpose
Is not less high. He would not listen to me;
The world is nothing worth in his regard.”
Thereat Káús called Rustam and repeated
Farhád's report. The Elephantine said:—
“I will relieve our nation from disgrace;
Let me bear back this answer: ‘I will draw
My trenchant sword.’ We need a trenchant letter,
A message like a thundering cloud. Myself
Will go to him as envoy; at my words
The rivers shall run blood.”

The Sháh replied:—

“The signet and the crown gain light from thee,
Who art at once ambassador, bold Tiger,
And haughty Lion of the battlefield.”
With that he called a scribe, whose pen he made
An arrowhead, and wrote: “Such talk is futile
And cometh ill from one of sober sense.
If thou canst purge thy head of arrogance
Do as thou art commanded like a slave,
Thou wilt not wreek thy realm but pay me tribute
Unvexed by war, enjoy Mázandarán,
And 'scape with life from Rustam; but if thou
Refusest I will march upon thee, stretch
My host from sea to sea, and then the soul
Of thy malevolent White Dív will bring
The vultures to enjoy thy brains, O king!”