Mīrzā Kāmrān gave heed to Mīr Faqr-'alī's words, and bestowed on him a head-to-foot dress. He then seized Mīrzā Hindāl and came to Āgra. He visited the tomb of Firdaus-makānī,* saw his mother and sisters, and halted in the Rose-scattering* Garden.

At this time Nūr Beg brought word of his Majesty's coming.* As Mīrzā Hindāl was excluded from the presence because of the murder of Shaikh Bahlūl, he went to Alwar.*

A few days after his Majesty's arrival, Mīrzā Kāmrān came from the Rose-scattering Garden and paid his respects to him. We paid our respects on the evening of the day he came. He took notice of this insignificant one, and was kindly pleased to say: ‘I did not know you at first, because when I led the army (whose footprints are victorious)* to Gaur Bangāla, you wore the high cap (āq), and now when I saw the muslin coif* I did not recognise you. And oh, my Gul-badan, I used very often to think of you, and was sometimes sorry, and said: “I do wish I had brought her!” But at the time of the disaster (firāt) I was thankful I had not, and I said: (35a) “Thank God I did not bring Gul-badan!” For although 'Aqīqa* was young, I have been consumed by a hundred thousand regrets and cares, and have said: “Why did I take her with the army?”’

A few days later he came to see my mother. He had with him the Holy Book. He commanded the attendants to retire* for awhile, and they rose and there was privacy. Then he said to ājam (Dil-dār Begam) and this insignificant one, and to Afghānī āghācha, and Gul-nār āghācha, and Nār-gul āghācha, and my nurse (anaga): ‘Hindāl is my strength* and my spear;* the desirable light of my eyes, the might of my arm, the desired, the beloved. May what I do be right! What shall I say to Mīrzā Muḥammad Hindāl about the affair of my* Shaikh Bahlūl? What was to be has been! Now there is no anger in my heart against Hindāl. If you do not believe it’ … He had lifted up the Holy Book when her Highness my mother, Dil-dār Begam, and this poor thing snatched it from his hand. All cried, ‘May what you do be right! Why do you say such things?’

Then again he spoke: ‘How would it be, Gul-badan, if you went yourself and fetched your brother, Muḥammad Hindāl Mīrzā?’ (35b) Her Highness, my mother, said: ‘This girlie (dukhtarak) is young. She has never made a journey (alone). If you approved, I would go.’ His Majesty said: ‘If I give you this trouble, it is because it is clearly incumbent on fathers and mothers to feel for their chil­dren. If you would honour him with a visit, it would be a healing-balm applied for us all.’

Then he sent Mīr Abū'l-baqā* with her Highness my mother, to fetch Mīrzā Hindāl. At once on hearing this news: ‘She has come to see me!’ Muḥammad Hindāl Mīrzā made his mother happy by giving her honourable meeting. He came with her from Alwar, and paid his duty to his Majesty.* About Shaikh Bahlūl he said: ‘He used to send arms and military appurtenances to Shīr Khān. When this was ascertained, I killed the shaikh on account of it.’

To put it briefly: in a short time came news that Shīr Khān had come near Lakhnau.

In those days his Majesty had a certain servant, a water-carrier. (36a) As he had been parted from his horse in the river at Chausa and this servant betook himself to his help and got him safe and sound out of the current, his Majesty now seated him on the throne. The name of that me??ial person we did not hear, some said Niām, some said Sambal. But to cut the story short, his Majesty made the water-carrier servant sit on the throne, and ordered all the amīrs to make obeisance to him. The servant gave everyone what he wished, and made appoint­ments. For as much as two days the Emperor gave royal power to that menial. Mīrzā Hindāl was not present at his court;* he had taken leave, and had again gone to Alwar with the intention of getting arms ready. Neither did Mīrzā Kāmrān appear. He was ill, and sent to say to his Majesty: ‘Gifts and favours of some other kind ought to be the servant's reward. What propriety is there in setting him on the throne? At a time when Shīr Khān is near, what kind of affair is this to engage your Majesty?’

In those days Mīrzā Kāmrān's illness increased amaz­ingly. He became weak and so thin that his face was not in the least his own, and there was no hope of his life. (36b) By the Divine mercy he grew better. He suspected that the Emperor's mothers,* by his Majesty's advice, had given him poison. His Majesty came to hear of this, and instantly went to see the mīrzā and swore that he had never had such a thought, nor given such an order to any one. Nevertheless, Mīrzā Kāmrān's heart was not purged. Afterwards he got worse, day after day, and he lost power of speech.

When news came that Shīr Khān had left Lakhnau, the Emperor marched towards Kanauj, and left Mīrzā Kāmrān in Āgra to act for him. In a few days the mīrzā heard that he had made a bridge of boats and crossed the Ganges. On this, he himself marched out of Āgra towards Lāhōr.*

We had settled down* when he sent* a farmān like a king's, and said: ‘You* are commanded to go with me to Lāhōr.’ He must have said* to his Majesty about me something of this sort: ‘I am very ill and very miserable and lonely, and I have no one* to sympathize with me. (37a) If you will order Gul-badan Begam to go with me to Lāhōr, it will be a real favour and kindness.’ For his sake his Majesty will have said: ‘She shall go.’ Two or three days after the Emperor had gone towards Lakhnau, the mīrzā sent a farmān,* in royal style, to the effect: ‘Most assuredly you will come with me.’ Then my mother must have said: ‘She has never travelled apart from us.’ He replied:* ‘If she has not travelled alone, do you also go with her.’ He sent as many as 500 troopers and trusty grooms, and both his foster-father and his foster-brother, and said (to my mother): ‘If she may not go with me (to Lāhōr), come all of you one stage.’ When one stage was reached, he began to declare, on his oath: ‘I will not let you go.’ Then he took me by main force, with a hundred weepings and complaints and laments, away from my mothers, and my own mother and my sisters, and my father's people, and my brothers, and parted us who had all grown up together from infancy.*

I saw that the Emperor's command also was in the affair. I was helpless. (37b) I wrote a suppliant letter, saying: ‘I never expected your Majesty to cut off this in­significant one from your service, and to give her to Mīrzā Kāmrān.’ To this humble note he sent a compassionate answer (salām-nāma), to this effect: ‘I had no heart to part with you, but the mīrzā persisted, and was miserable, and begged very hard, and I was obliged to trust you to him. For just now there is important work* on hand. God willing, I will send for you when it is settled.’

When the mīrzā was starting, many people, amīrs and traders and so on, made preparation with the intention of letting their wives and families march under his escort to Lāhōr. When we reached (the city) news came of a battle on the Ganges, and that defeat had befallen the royal army.*

At least there was this limit to misfortune,—his Majesty and his brothers came safely through the peril.* Our other relations* came from Āgra by way of Alwar to Lāhōr. (38a) Just now the Emperor said to Mīrzā Hindāl: ‘'Aqīqa Begam disappeared in that first interregnum (fitrat)* and I repented extremely, and said: “Why did I not kill her in my own presence?” Now, again, it is difficult to convey women with us.’ Mīrzā Hindāl answered: ‘What it would be to your Majesty to kill a mother and a sister, speaks for itself! So long as there is life in me, I will fight in their service. I have hope in the most high God, that,—poor fellow as I am,—I may pour out my life's blood for my mother and my sisters.’