Thus said an archimage: One morning Tús
In merry pin left the Sháh's gate at cockcrow,
With Gív, Gúdarz, and other cavaliers,
To hunt upon the desert of Daghwí
With hawk and cheetah. By a river's bank
They stalked or ran down game, and caught or shot
Enough to last them forty days. Near by
A Turkman's camp showed black, and thence a forest
Stretched almost to the marches of Túrán.
Gív led the way with Tús: behind them came
Some brave retainers. Entering the wood,
And roaming thus awhile in quest of quarry,
They saw among the trees a fair-cheeked maiden,
And hurried toward her in high glee. The age
Had not her peer in looks; hers were not charms
To need apologies. In stature she

Was cypress-tall, in looks a moon, to gaze
On her was perilous. Tús said to her:—
“Bewitching Moon! who showed thee to this wood?”
“My father set on me last night,” she said,
“And so I fled from home. He had returned
Drunk from a marriage-feast and, in his frenzy
Perceiving me far off, drew forth his sword
Of watered steel and had beheaded me.
I fled for refuge, and have just come hither.”
The paladin then asked her of her kindred.
She told him fully and to this effect:—
“I am akin to Garsíwaz, and trace
My lineage to Sháh Farídún.”

He asked her:—

“Why camest thou afoot, for thou hast come
Unmounted and unguided?”

She replied:—

“My steed was wearied out and fell exhausted.
I had uncounted gold, gold crown, and jewels,
But over yonder hill some people robbed me
And beat me with a scabbard. I escaped
In terror and am weeping tears of blood.
My sire no doubt when sober will dispatch
Some horsemen after me forthwith, my mother
Will haste to me, she would not have me quit
These fields and fells.”

Now both the paladins

Grew hot of heart for love of her, and Tús,
Lost to all shame, exclaimed: “'Twas I who spied her,
And therefore made such haste.”

But Gív replied:—

“O captain of the host! without thy host
Thou art no match for me.”

Still Tús insisted:—

“She came exactly in my horse's way.”
Gív said: “Nay! Say not so; I led the chase.

Tell not a falsehood for a slave-girl's sake:
A man of courage is not quarrelsome.”
Their wrangle was so violent that the Moon
Was like to lose her head in the dispute,
Until a noble interposed and said:—
“Convey her to the monarch of Írán,
And bide by his decision.”

Both agreed

And went to Kai Káús, who when he saw
The damsel's beauty, fell in love with her
Himself, and said to those two generals:—
“Your journey's travail was cut short for you!
Be she a doe or beautiful gazelle
A quarry such as this is for your lord.
Come let us pass the day in telling how
These warriors with their cheetahs caught a Sun!”
He questioned her: “What is thy lineage,
For thou art fairy-like in countenance?”
“I am of high birth on my mother's side,”
She said, “my father sprang from Farídún.
My father's father is prince Garsíwaz,
Whose tents now occupy yon border land.”
Káús said: “Didst thou mean to fling away
Such looks as these, such beauty and such birth?
'Tis meet I place thee in my golden bower:
Thou must be chief of all the Moon-faced there.”
She answered: “I preferred thee at first sight
Among the great.”

The Sháh then gave each general

Ten noble chargers with a throne and crown,
But sent the Idol to the women's bower,
And gave command to set her on the throne.

Then under her they placed an ivory seat,
Upon her head a crown of gold and turquoise,
Adorning her with yellow-hued brocade,
With jewels, turquoise, lapis lazuli,
And other presents worthy hers to be:
A ruby yet untouched by man was she.