Shangul abode for two months in Írán,
And then dispatched a noble to the Sháh
To ask permission to depart, both he
And his illustrious counsellors, for home.
The king of kings consented that Shangul
Should start on his return to Hindústán,
And bade an archimage to choose among
The treasures of Írán—dínárs, gems, silver,
Gold, thrones and crowns, swords, girdles and brocade,
And stuffs uncut—unbounded, countless gifts
To give Shangul while for his suite he furnished,
To each in his degree, steeds and brocade
Of Chín, dismissed them happy and content,
And went three stages with Shangul. Besides
The gifts he gave them provand to the coasts
Of Hindústán.

When Sháh Bahrám returned

He sat in peace upon the throne, but mused
Of death and of ill fortune till his heart
Ached and his face grew wan. He bade a scribe—
A noble archmage who was his vizír—
To come to him and bade him to inspect
The treasury and reckon up the gold,
The gems, and raiment, for astrologers
Had told him, and the words had troubled him:—
“Thy life will last three score of years, the fourth score
Will make thee weep at death,” and he had said:—

“The first score years will I devote to pleasure,
Will set joy as a shoot within my soul,
And in the next will justify the world
By equity and liberality
In public and in private. I will leave
No corner waste and will provide for all.
In the third score I will entreat the Lord;
Perchance He will direct me on my way.”
The astrologer said sixty years and three,
But of the three the reckoning was not clear,
And so the Sháh desired sufficient treasure
To meet the presage of the astrologer,
Else would he have not self-reproach and travail?
The treasurer went to the treasury,
On hearing this, and laboured at the account.
He toiled exceedingly till he had told
The total to the monarch's minister,
Who thereupon went to the famous Sháh,
And said: “For three and twenty years to come
In sooth thou wilt need naught. I have allowed
For provand, largess, and thy famed troops' pay,
For envoys that arrive from other kings,
And from thine own famed provinces, and thou
Possessest for these years a treasury filled
With silver, gold, and goods.”

On hearing this

Bahrám took thought, he was too wise to sorrow
Beforehand, and replied: “My sway is ending.
This world, if thou reflectest, hath three days.
Since yesterday is over, and to-morrow
Not come, to-day I stoop not under care.
As I have means of largess and a throne
Of ivory I will have no more tax.”
He bade that no tax should be asked thenceforth.
From small and great. He set up in each city
A man to rouse the drowsy and check strife
Wherefrom proceedeth naught save evil deeds.
He gave those wise archmages what was needful
By way of provand, clothes, and draperies
Out of his treasury, and said to them:—
“Ye must hide nothing good and bad from me.
Be ye the arbitrators of disputes,
Make no demands that make yourselves vexatious,
Report both good and ill, and cut my fears
Concerning evils short.”

This thing obtained

Throughout the world, and nothing good and bad
Remained concealed. Those sages ordered all,
But still from every province letters came,
Which said: “Through bounty,*

idleness,*

and wealth
The brains of men are ceasing to be wise.

There is such strife and bloodshed in the world
That young men set no value on the great;
The young men's hearts are filled with many things,
But not with thoughts of Sháh and archimage.
Their faces they have turned from gain to guile,
They have grown troublesome and combative.
The peasants, landowners, and unemployed,
All give themselves to battle and contention.”
When letters of this kind arrived the Sháh
Was heart-pierced at the bloodshed. In each province
He chose officials, wise and understanding
As was befitting, and provided them
Out of his treasury with food and raiment,
The means for largess, and its allocation,
And for six months established offices,
Requiring of his subjects drachms in payment,
And stamping “tax” on silver thus received.
The officers wore crowns and had great state.
For six months he received, for six gave back
To wretched mendicant and man of birth.
He strove in this way to keep men of war
From bloodshed and inaugurating ill.
Again his agents wrote: “Munificence
Hath robbed the world of its security,
For they that have the money pay no tax,
But only meditate more bickerings.
Instead of being crass they have grown cruel,
They are all troublesome and quarrelsome.”
Now when Bahrám Gúr had perused this letter
His heart was troubled at such deeds. He bade:—
“Treat in accord to God's decree all those
That shod blood or employ deceit, that all
May find the means of livelihood.”

He chose

A marchlord full of justice and of knowledge
For every province as was fit. He gave them
A court-allowance for a year, invoking
The Giver of all good. Much time passed by,
And then the monarch had a letter sent
To those truth-speaking men and correspondents,
Whom he had scattered through the world, to ask:—
“What is there in the world unprofitable,
And bringeth injury upon this realm?”
They wrote in answer: “Through the monarch's
gifts
No man observeth rule and precedent.
There is no thought or care for tilth or toil
Wherefrom man's worth deriveth. We behold
Draught-oxen straying and the herbage lush
In tilth and springing crop.”

The Sháh rejoined:—

“Till midday, when the world-illuming sun
Is at its height, the tiller of the soil
Must rest not from his work. The other half
Is for repose and sleep. If men are fools
We can but weep for them. If any lacketh

Fruits, seed, and oxen be not stern and harsh
Toward him but kind and aid him from my treasures
That none may be distressed by indigence.
So likewise if the weather causeth loss,
And nobody is sovereign o'er the weather,
Or locusts anywhere conceal the earth,
And eat the herbage to the naked soil,
Give compensation from the treasury.
Proclaim this edict in the provinces.
If there are sterile routes or if the land
Be but a waste and all uncultivate,
And whether it be owned by rich or poor,
From such as I describe demand not aught,
And if a man, one of my servitors,
Or mine own foster-sire, shall take one mite
Him will I bury on the spot alive:
God give him neither home nor dwelling-place.”
They sealed the letter with the royal ring,
And sent the camel-posts a-hurrying.