The king, on hearing this, asked for the letter,
And marvelled at that chief. A noble scribe
Read it, whereat the monarch's face became
Like gall. He said: “O man of eloquence!
Haste not to speak, and act not haughtily.
Thy Sháh displayeth his imperiousness,
Witness thy journey hither. Should one ask
For tribute out of Hindústán the wise
Would disavow him. If thy master speaketh
Of host and treasure, and of giving land
And cities up to woe … well, other kings
Are cranes, I am an eagle; they are dust,

I am a sea. None fighteth with the stars,
Or seeketh fame by warring with the sky.
Worth is much better than the useless talk
That maketh wise men hold thee in contempt.
Ye have not manhood, knowledge, realm or city;
Your share of sovereignty is only loss.
My whole land is a hidden treasury
Whereon mine ancestors have laid no hand,
Beside my store of mail for man and steed,
Which, if my treasurer should bring it forth,
Would ask for elephants to bear the keys,
If mighty elephants could carry them;
And should I count my swords and coats of mail
The stars would seem contemptible in sum
To thee. The earth will not sustain my host,
My throne, and mighty elephants. If thou
Shouldst multiply a thousand thousand-fold
'Twould be the sum of those that call me king.
Mine are the jewels of the hills and seas,
I am the present mainstay of the world.
The founts of aloe, musk, and ambergris,
The hoards of undried camphor and the drugs
That cure the suffering, whoe'er shall ail
Throughout the world, are plenteous in my realm,
As well as silver, gold, and jewelry,
While fourscore kings with crowns of gold up-gird
Their loins at my behest. My land is full
Of mountain, stream, and chasm; not e'en a dív
Would find his way across it. From Kannúj
Up to the marches of Írán and thence
Right to Sakláb and Chín the chiefs are all
My men and cannot choose but homage me.
The watchmen of Khutan, of Hind, and Chín
Use in their challenges no name but mine;
All speak the praises of my crown and grow
More serviceable. In my women's bower
The daughter of Faghfúr of Chín invoketh
God's blessing on me—me of all the world.
By her I have a lion-hearted son,
Whose scimitar despoileth mountains' hearts.
No one since Kai Káús and Kai Kubád
E'er hath concerned himself about this land.
Three hundred thousand warlike troops withal
Acclaim me. Of allies I have twelve hundred,
Who all are wholly in my confidence;
All are my kith and kin by long descent,
And stand before me here in Hind. Their war-cry
Would make the lions of the jungle gnaw
Their claws. If there were any precedent
For chiefs to slay an envoy out of wrath
Thy head and body would I part, and let
Thy raiment wail for thee.”

C. 1563 Bahrám replied:—

“As thou art great, O king! sow not the seed
Of wrath. My Sháh said: ‘Say to him: “If thou
Art wise choose not the pathway of perverseness.”’
Produce now from thy court two men of lore,
Of fluent tongue, and happy in discourse,
And if in rede and wisdom they excel
One of these men with me then I have done
With this thy land, for wise men spurn not words;
Or else choose out among the warriors
That wield in Hindústán the massive mace
A hundred horsemen to fight one of us,
And we, what time thy wit and worth shall stand
Revealed, will ask not tribute from thy land.”