The poet, in this the concluding dynasty of the Sháhnáma, tells of the rise, progress, and fall of the Sásánian empire from the days of its founder, Ardshír Pápakán, to those of Yazdagird, the last Sháh of the dynasty. He commemorates the reigns of its twenty-nine Sháhs, for the most part very briefly, but in some instances at great length, as in the cases of Bahrám Gúr, Núshír-wán, and Khusrau Parwíz. He records, so far as Íránian tradition kept such things in memory, the foreign relations of the empire with other kings, races, and peoples, its internal administration and domestic concerns, the adventures that befell and the wisdom that was uttered, the invention of chess and the coming of the Gipsies. He then describes the conquest of Írán by the Arabs and ends with a short passage of personal reminiscence.

Having passed, as Firdausí says, “Sikandar's barrier”*

and the great historic void of five centuries and more, peopled for us in the Sháhnáma by a few shades of names only, we alight at length on the authentic but unstable soil of the Sásánian dynasty; for even here the information presented to us is by no means con­sonant with modern Western canons of accuracy. The names are historic, and so are many of the events recorded, but there are no dates, and often what is historic is misplaced chronologically and attributed to the wrong actors and the wrong causes, sometimes very trivial ones—those, for instance, assigned by the street story-teller. Of many of the Sháhs only the facts of their acces­sion, the length, often wrongly given, of their reigns, their inaugural speeches, and deaths are recorded. The occurrence, more than once, of a whole series of such reigns has a somewhat depressing effect on the reader and gives an appearance of truth to Atkinson's view that the interest of the Sháhnáma ends with the reign of Sikandar.*

From this it might be thought that the poet, weary with his long labours and soured by hope deferred, had hurried over or scamped the concluding portion of his vast undertaking. It might be thought that even in the places where material is abundant his version of it had not the technique and attractiveness found in the earlier dynasties. In the opinion of the present writer such views are not justified by the facts of the case. It is true that here the visions of the childhood of the world fade into the light of common day, and the superhuman gives place to the human, but there is a measure of compensation in that very fact, and the study of the history of a whole epoch as it was conceived, interpreted, and handed down by popular tradition, cannot fail of interest and instruction. It must be remembered too that no other great poet ever imposed such strict limitations on himself, or so sternly adhered to them, as did Firdausí. He puts himself at the merey of his authorities, and where they fail him, as they do sometimes in this portion of the Sháhnáma, he makes no attempt to invent incidents, but leaves a blank and passes on. This is a proceeding for which the poet should be praised rather than blamed. He was engaged in a high task, no doubt believed in the tales that he retold, just as his countrymen believe in them still, and he refused to add to the sacred story of his race as he found it in tradition. In cases, however, where his authorities offered him an opportunity he shows no falling off in vigour, as the reign of Bahrám Gúr, which will be found in the next volume, is in itself sufficient to prove. In it we seem to discern the soil and the seed whence sprang in after ages the well-beloved Nights called Arabian, but certainly of Persian origin, for we have the Sháh roaming disguised, or at least unrecognised, among his subjects of all classes, the freaks of despotic power, the humorous exaggerations, the Rabelaisian tale, and the clash of the cymbals of the Brides of the Treasure. Finally, in the story of Bahrám Chubína, which Macan admired so much,*

the Sásánian dynasty possesses a historical romance both admirable in itself and admirably set forth by the poet. It remains to call attention to a few other points in connexion with this dynasty.

Ardshír Pápakán laid it down as a fundamental principle of government, if Íránian tradition may be credited, that the Throne and the Faith were interdependent. The Faith could not exist without the Throne, nor the Throne without the Faith. The two were brothers; they wore one cloak; they were two pieces of brocade interwoven; the slanderer of the Throne and the per­secutor of the Faith were alike impious.*

Whether Ardshír really spoke to this effect or not matters little. If he did not say so in word his deeds said it for him, and most of his suc­cessors followed his example. Later ages, noting this marked feature of the dynasty—the close union between the Throne and the Faith—naturally may have attributed corresponding senti­ments to its founder. Accordingly the religion of Zoroaster, as represented by its official priesthood and supported by the throne, obtained during Sásánian times a position of influence and dignity such as it never previously had enjoyed, at all events since the semi-mythical epoch of Gushtásp and of Asfandiyár. Even with all its official advantages, however, the priesthood had much ado to maintain itself, amid the religious ferment of those centuries, alike against the antagonism of rival Faiths without and heresy within.*

Orthodox Zoroastrianism was more than once almost in the position of an Athanasius contra mundum.*

The Sásánian Sháhs, for the most part, seem to have done their best to support the priesthood, and the latter showed its gratitude by a deep and loyal devotion to the House of Sásán. This loyalty to the throne, coupled with aversion from all that was heterodox or unorthodox, was reflected in the national tradition as handed down by the chroniclers of the time, who for the most part were Zoroastrian priests themselves. Consequently in this part of the Sháhnáma the reader will find a strong legitimist feeling, expressed by occasional remarks or asides, running like a thread through the poem. This feeling takes the form of devotion to the House of Sásán as a whole, with the exception of Yazdagird, son of Shápúr, “The Wicked,” and to the interests of the supposed rightful Sháh or heir for the time being as against usurpers or other claimants of the throne. These little outbursts certainly are not expressions of the poet's own personal views on such matters; he found them in his authorities and reproduced them. This remark also applies to passages of religious polemics. The poet's own views on such matters probably may be found in the parable of the kerchief.*

These polemics represent the devotion of the Zoroastrian priest­hood to orthodoxy, as they understood it, just as their legitimist outbursts expressed their loyalty to the throne, provided that it was occupied by rightful and orthodox Sháhs of the House of Sásán.

A curious instance of this close union between Church and State in Sásánian times is given by Mas'údí in his “Book of Indication and Revision,” but a few words may be said by way of preface. According to Zoroastrianism there are to be twelve millennia, at the expiration of the last of which—the present one—will come the Restoration of all things. Now the tenth millennium began on the day when the Revelation came to Zarduhsht,*

and in the Dínkard we find a prophecy, after the event, that the last two centuries of that particular millennium would be periods of great misery and wretchedness.*

The Dínkard was compiled during the ninth century A.D., and Mas'údí flourished during the first half of the tenth. This is what he tells us:—“There is a great difference between the opinion of the Persians and that of other people with reference to the epoch of Alexander, which most folk have not noticed. It is one of the secrets of the religion and royal policy of the Persians and is known only to the most erudite among the priests, as we have seen for ourselves in the province of Párs, Kirmán, and other countries where the Persians rule. It is not found in any of the books on Persian history or in any chronicle or annals. It is this. Zoroaster … in the Avasta—the book revealed to him—announces that in three centuries the empire of the Persians will experience a great revolution, without de­struction to the religion, but that at the end of a thousand years, starting from the same epoch, that of Zoroaster, the empire and the religion will perish together. Now between Zoroaster and Alexander there is about three hundred years, for Zoroaster appeared in the time of Gushtásp … Ardshír, son of Pápak, possessed himself of the empire … about five hundred years after Alexander. We see then that there remained not more than two hundred years or thereabouts before the completion of the thousand years of the prophecy. Ardshír wished to augment by two hundred years this space of time … because he feared that when a hundred years should have elapsed after him men would refuse aid to the king, and to repulse his enemies, owing to their belief in the truth of the tradition relating to the future ruin of the empire. To obviate this he retrenched about half the time that had elapsed between Alexander and himself, and accordingly only made mention of a certain number of the Part Kings, who had occupied this period, and suppressed the remainder. Then he took pains to disseminate in his empire that he had made his appearance and possessed himself of the rule two hundred and sixty years after Alexander. Consequently this period was recognised and spread among men. For this reason there is a difference between the Persians and other nations with respect to the era of Alexander, aud this is why confusion has been imported into the annals of the Part Kings.”*

Whatever we may think with regard to the historical value of this explanation the fact remains that the duration of the epoch between Alexander the Great and Ardshír Pápakán is reduced by Oriental historians generally. Its standard length may be put, as given by them, at 266 years. The above account makes Ardshír strike out 288 years of the actual historical number of 548 years.

In the notes to the various reigns of this dynasty no attempt will be made to present a complete historical sketch of the Persian history of the period by adding details and filling up the frequent lacunæ from other sources. Such history as the poem offers will be dealt with, but such as it ignores, e.g. many of the wars with the Eastern Roman empire, will be passed over in silence save where reference to some omitted historical event is needed for the better understanding of what has been included but mis­represented. Readers that desire to supplement the Sháhnáma will find ample material in the late Professor Rawlinson's “Seventh Great Oriental Monarchy,” and in the Bibliography appended thereto, especially if they add Professor Nöldeke's “Geschichte der Perser und Araber zur Zeit des Sasaniden,” which was published three years later and is invaluable.

The form of the names of the various Sháhs, taken from Professor Rawlinson, and the duration of their respective reigns, as calculated by Professor Nöldeke, are given between brackets.

A genealogical table of the Sásánians, according to the Sháhnáma, will be found at the beginning of the volume.