Consider now the case of Búzurjmihr,
Who from the dust rose to the circling sphere,
Which will exalt one to the clouds on high,
Then bring him down in sorry dust to lie!
* It happened in those days that Núshírwán
Went forth from Madá'in to hunt. He chased
Along the wilderness the mountain-sheep
And the gazelles. The mountain-sheep dispersed.
The Sháh was left behind with Búzurjmihr,
Who followed both from duty and from love.
Then from the waste the monarch reached a meadow,
And saw trees, grass, and shade. The weary Sháh
Alighted from his steed to rest his eyes
Upon the grass. He saw no followers;
The one of goodly face remained, no more.
The Sháh reposed awhile upon the mead,
His head right lovingly upon the lap
Of Búzurjmihr. It was that wise king's wont
To wear a jewelled armlet. As it chanced
This clinging armlet snapped upon his arm,
And fell beside his couch. A sable bird
Swooped from the clouds to where he lay, looked round,
Beheld that armlet, brake the thread whereon
The gems were strung, then ate them each in turn,
The lustrous pearls and topazes alike,
Flew from the monarch's couch, and disappeared.
At that adventure Búzurjmihr aghast
Mused at the process of the turning sky.
He understood: “My fall, my day of wrath,
My season of dismay, are hard at hand!”
The Sháh awoke, marked how he bit his lips,
Scanned his own arm, beheld the jewels gone,
And seeing no one of his escort there
* Conceived that while he slumbered Búzurjmihr
* Had gulped the armlet down, and said to him:—
“Thou dog! who said to thee: ‘'Tis possible
To hide one's natural bent?’”*

But Núshírwán

Fatigued with many words his tongue in vain;
He got no answer but a deep, cold sigh,
While Búzurjmihr stood withered by the Sháh,
And by the process of revolving heaven.
That wise man marked at once the ominous sign
Of downfall and remained struck dumb by fear.
The escort of the Sháh had gone about
The mead while Núshírwán was in its midst.
He mounted on his charger's back in wrath,
And noticed no one on his journey home,
But bit his lip at Búzurjmihr the while,
And muttering much alighted from his steed,
Bade smite the sage's face as 'twere an anvil,
And to imprison him in his own palace.
So Búzurjmihr abode there and beheld
A frowning sky. He had a kinsman, brave
And young, attending on Sháh Núshírwán
Within the palace day and night on terms
Of intimacy. Búzurjmihr one day
Asked that dependant of the sun-faced Sháh:—
“How dost thou wait upon him? Let me know
So that thou mayest be more serviceable.”
“Chief of archmages!” said the servitor,
“It chanced this very day that Núshírwán
Looked so on me, his bondslave, that I said:—
‘There is an end for me of food and sleep!’
I poured the water for him after meat,
Transgressing with the basin in the act,
And when the world-lord was offended at me
I let the basin fall.”

Then said the sage:—

“Arise! Fetch hither water and pour out
As thou wouldst pour it o'er the Sháh's own hands.”
The young man brought warm water which he poured
Upon the sage's hands with gentleness,
Who said: “Pour thus when he requireth it,
Avoiding any awkwardness, and when
The water shall perfume the basin's brim
Forbear to pour.”

The servitor took heed,

And on the next occasion, when he brought
The salver, poured the water as the sage
Enjoined with neither tardiness nor haste.
“O thou whose love increaseth!” said the Sháh,
“Who told thee this?”

He answered: “Búzurjmihr,

For he it was that taught to me the mode
Marked by the Sháh, the master of the world.”
The Sháh said: “Go and say thus to the sage:—
‘With all that high estate of thine and lustre
Why didst thou seek the worse and not the better
Through thine ill nature and misgovernance?’”
The attendant heard and coming quickly sought
The palace eagerly with stricken soul,
Gave Búzurjmihr the message of the Sháh,
And privily received this answer back:—

“My station both in public and in private
Far bettereth the monarch of the world's.”
The servitor returned with this response,
But counted as he went the grains of dust.
The answer made the Sháh exceeding wroth.
He had the sage bound in a dismal dungeon,
And asked the servitor the second time:—
“How beareth that insensate one his lot?”
The messenger came with a tearful face,
And told the words to Búzurjmihr who thus
Made answer to that faithful friend of his:—
“My days are passed more lightly than the Sháh's.”
The messenger turned back, came like the wind,
And told the Sháh that answer, which enraged him;
He was as 'twere a pard and bade to make
A narrow iron cage, then studded it
With spikes and nails inside, and set thereon
Withal an iron lid. Thus Búzurjmihr
Could neither rest by day nor sleep by night.
Thus for the fourth time to the servitor
The Sháh said: “Take this message and bring back
His answer. Say to him: ‘How far'st thou now,
Environed as thou art by piercing nails?’”
The attendant came and gave the message sent
By that imperious prince. Thus Búzurjmihr
Made answer to the youth: “My days are better
Than those of Núshírwán.”

Now when the man

Returned with this reply the Sháh's face grew
All livid at the words. Out of the palace
He chose a truthful man and capable
Of comprehending what the sage should say,
Dispatched too with the messenger a swordsman,
Who acted as the exccutioner,
And said: “Go to this bad, ill-fortuned man,
And say: ‘If thy reply give pleasure, well;
If not the deathsman with his trenchant sword
Shall show thee Doomsday in that thou hast said
That jail and nails and cage, and pit and bonds
Are better than the throne of Núshírwán.’”
The envoy came apace to him and told
The words of Núshírwán. Said Búzurjmihr
To that good envoy: “Fortune ne'er hath shown us
Its face. None of us is exempt from change,
And verily all good and ill will end.
Enthroned and rich or grievously oppressed,
We have no choice, we all must pack and part.
To pass from durance is an easy thing;
The quaking is for them that wear the crown.”
That wise man and the executioner
Returned and, coming to the exalted Sháh,
Narrated everything that they had heard.
The fear of evil fortune came upon him.
They bore that righteous guide from that strait cage
Back to his palace with the Sháh's consent,

And heaven turned awhile with matters thus,
While wrinkles filled the face of Búzurjmihr,
His heart grew more oppressed and worn, and both
His eyes were darkened by anxiety,
While since his travailing surpassed his gain
He wasted with his care and pined with pain.