It is related by Abú-n Nasr 'Utbí in his work called Táríkh
Yamíní*
that the King of Kábul made war upon the Muhamma-
It is said that Sultán Yámínu-d daula Mahmúd Subuktigín had been long enamoured of the sister of Ayáz—he was sincerely attached to her, and anxious to espouse her. But it occurred to him that he might by this act incur the reproaches of the neighbouring kings and princes, and forfeit the respect and esteem of his own servants. This apprehension he entertained for a long time.
Abú Nasr Mishkání says—“I was one night in attendance on the king, and when all the assembly was gone, he stretched out his legs and ordered me to “shampoo” them. I knew that he certainly intended to tell me some secret. At last he said, “It is a maxim with wise men that there are three people from whom a secret should not be concealed, viz.: a skilful physician, a kind preceptor, and a wise servant. I have been long greatly perplexed, but I will this night unburden my mind and learn your opinion on the matter.” I observed, “I am not worthy of the high honour done me by the king, but as he, in his high wisdom has determined it, I will to the best of my ability represent what may appear to me as good or evil in the matter.” The king said, “It has long been a secret within me, that I am desirous of espousing the sister of Ayáz. But will not the neighbouring kings call me a fool and low-minded, and will not you also, my servants and slaves, speak ill of me in respectable society. I ask your advice in this matter; have you ever heard or read, in any history, of kings wedding the children of their slaves?” I made obeisance and said—“Many cases similar to this have occurred. Several kings of the Sámánian dynasty married their own slave girls. This act will not seem to the world as derogatory to the king's honour and rectitude. Perhaps your Majesty is unaware that Kubád, at the time he went to Turkistán, took as his wife the daughter of a villager, from whom was born Naushírwán. In Persian history, I have also read that Bahrám Gúr married a washerman's daughter. The Sultán asked me the particulars of the story, so I said, “I have heard that one day Bahrám Gúr went out hunting, and having started a stag, followed it so far that he became separated from his train. He felt thirsty and went towards a village. He there saw a washerman sitting on the edge of a pond washing clothes; his wife and daughter were sitting by him with a heap of clothes ready to be washed. Bahrám approached them, and said, ‘O washerman, give me some water to drink.’ The washerman stood up, and having paid him the usual marks of respect, ordered his wife to fetch some water for the king. She took the cup, and having washed it several times in clean water, said to her daughter, ‘I am not a virgin, man's hand has touched me, but you, who are an unbored pearl, should give the water to the king.’ The girl took the cup and brought it to the king, who, looking at her, perceived that she was incomparably beautiful and charming, and possessed of excellent disposition and manners. He then asked the washerman if he would admit him as a guest for that day, who replied, that if the king could be contented with dry bread he would spare nothing in his power; saying this, he spread a clean cloth on the bank, and Bahrám sat down. The washerman then took his horse and fastened it to a tree, and gave his daughter a fine cloth with which she fanned the king, and protected him from flies. He himself hastened to the village and procured food, wine, meat, in short, everything on which he could lay his hand, he brought. He gave his daughter the wine and cup, and ordered her to act as cup-bearer to the king. On which she cleansed the cup, and having filled it with wine, brought it to the king, who took her hand within his—she kissed them. Bahrám said, ‘O girl, the lips are the place to kiss and not the hand.’ The girl paid her respects, and said that the time had not yet come for that. The king was surprised at the elegance of her appearance and the eloquence of her speech. They were thus engaged when the train of Bahrám appeared in sight. He told the girl to conceal her face, on which she pulled her veil over it. He then on that spot having performed the nuptial ceremony, placed her on an elephant under a canopy, and made her father ride away with them; her mother also accompanied them.”
When the Emperor heard this story, he was much pleased, and bestowed presents upon me: saying, “You have relieved me of this care.” After two days he espoused the sister of Ayáz.
When Khwája Ahmad acted as minister to Sultán Mahmúd (may God be merciful to him!) all the principal officers of State were inimical to him and traduced him to the Emperor, who thus contracted a great dislike to him, and was desirous of removing him from office. On this subject Abú Nasr Mishkán says that Arslán wrote him a letter, saying that “The king is displeased with Khwája Ahmad, and we, his Majesty's servants, must beware of resisting his will. But in common charity we are bound to declare what we know or have heard. Khwája Ahmad is undoubtedly the most able minister of the time, and has been very useful to our sovereign. He has long been in government employ and has experienced great changes of fortune. It is now some time since he was appointed Minister of State, and now all men of influence, rank, and dignity are his enemies. The cause of their hatred to him is his devotion to his master, and his disregard of their wishes and pleasure. His associates in office are also inimical to him for the same reason. You would do right to communicate this letter to his Majesty, although I know that his mind has been so perverted by them that my counsel will be useless. Still the time may come when his Majesty may feel some regret, when he will not check but excuse our representations.”
Abú Nasr Mishkán continues: I read the letter and for a long time I was watching for an opportunity to lay it before the king. I also received constant messages from the minister imploring my support and assistance. I replied that it would not do to be precipitate, but that I must wait till a suitable occasion offered itself.