One came and told Máhwí of Súr: “The world-lord
Is hidden in the dust. The prelates, priests,
And monks of Rúm—all those of life austere,
Both young and old, throughout that march and
land—
Went wailing, took his body from the stream,
And made for him within the garth a charnel—
A great one, higher than the mountain-slopes.”*

Máhwí, that luckless wretch, exclaimed: “Írán
Had ne'er before affinity with Rúm.”
He sent and slew the builders of that charnel,
With those that mourned, and gave that march to
spoil,
Such was his will and worth! Thereafter he
Made search throughout the world and found not one
Of that great stock. He had a crown and signet,
The Sháh's erewhile, and to that shepherd-born
The throne appealed. He called his intimates,
Announced the purpose that he had at heart,
And told his minister: “Experienced man!
The day of strife and battle is upon us.
I have no treasure, fame or lineage,
And may but give my head up to the winds.
The name that is upon my signet-ring
Is Yazdagird: my scimitar hath failed
To make men yield to me. Throughout Írán
Men are his slaves although his kin is scattered.
The sages do not hail me as the Sháh,
The soldiers do not recognise my seal.
My machinations tended otherwise.
Oh! wherefore did I shed the world-king's blood?
All night am I sore-troubled in my thoughts:
The World-lord knoweth how it is with me.”
The counsellor replied: “The thing is done,
And common talk. Act for thine own behoof,

For thou hast burst thy belt. The Sháh is dust
Within the charnel; dust hath healed his soul.
Call round thee all the world-experienced men,
And set thy tongue to words of pleasantness.
Say thus: ‘The Sháh gave me the crown and signet
As emblems of authority, perceiving
The coming of an army from the Turks,
Called me at dead of night, and said: “When bruit
Of war ariseth who can say which side
The dust will be, so take this crown and ring,
For they may help thee on the day of battle.
I have one daughter only left to me:
In truth she is in hiding from the Arabs.
Hereafter yield not to the foe my throne,
And by these tokens walk thou in my steps.”
I have then from the Sháh as legacy
This crown and in accord to his behest
Am sitting on the throne.’ By this device
Give thou thine acts a gloss for who will know
The truth from falsehood?”

“Good!” exclaimed Máhwí,

“Thou art a minister—a peerless one!”
He summoned all the captains of the host,
And spake at large to them to that effect.
They knew: “It is not true, and well it were
To cut his head off for his shamelessness.”
A paladin observed: “'Tis thy concern
If what thou sayest be the truth or not.”
He heard and sat him down upon the throne,
By his deceit gat hold of Khurásán,
Distributed the earth among his chiefs,
And said: “I am the world's king with the signet.’
He called his kin and said the same at large;
He took the whole earth as it were a gift;
The stars were in amaze at him. He chose
The vicious as accorded to his nature,
Debased the sages and made everywhere
Chiefs of the bad. The head of right was humbled,
And knavery on all sides manifest.
He gave his elder son Balkh and Harát,
And sent troops to each quarter. As his host
And treasures grew the heart of that ingrate
Was gratified. He gave his troops rewards
And put them in good case; he filled the heads
Of his own kith and kin with vapourings.
Then with his troops and valiant warriors,
Preceded by the scouts and Garsiyún—
A veteran chief—they marched upon Bukhárá,
Intent on war, for “Chách and Samarkand
Are ours,” Máhwí said, “and they must be made
The captives of this crown and seal, for so

Did Yazdagird, king of the world, command—
Chief of the planets seven. With the sword
Will I take vengeance on Bízhan by whom
The fortune of earth's king was turned to gloom.”