Now in the tale of Búzurjmihr will we
Reveal a cheerier visage. Do not deem
That there is naught but folly in a dream;
Know that a dream may smack of prophecy,
And in especial when such visitings
Impress the clear mind of a king of kings.
The stars with sky and moon hold conference,
Their words are whispered and dispersed through
space,
And clear souls dreaming see the future thence
As fire is mirrored in the water's face.
One night Sháh Núshírwán, the wise and shrewd,
That lucid spirit, lay asleep and dreamed:
A royal tree grew up before the throne,
And joyed his heart. He called for harp and wine
And minstrelsy, but on his throne of peace
And joy there sat with him a sharp-toothed boar,
Sat ready-dight for revelry and claimed
To quaff the wine from Núshírwán's own cup.
Sol rose in Taurus and the skylark's note
Was heard on all sides yet the monarch sat
Upon his throne in dudgeon at that dream.
They called the interpreter of dreams and held
A session of the magnates at the court.
The Sháh narrated to those archimages,
The counsellors, his dream. The interpreter

Made no reply, he knew of no such case,
And one that pleadeth ignorance is excused.
The Sháh, thus left unanswered by the sages,
Was instant what to do in his concern,
And sent to every side an archimage,
One enterprising, shrewd of heart, and wise.
He made each take a purse and entertained
High hopes from their return. In every purse
There were ten thousand drachms that every envoy
Might seek out some interpreter of dreams,
Some man of understanding, some adept,
To solve the world-king's dream and to reveal
The mystery, and then bestow on such
A full purse and the royal compliments.*

So to all parts a veteran archmage went—
A prudent cavalier and man of lore.
One of these chiefs—Ázád Sarv*

—came to Marv,
Went through the town and saw an archimage,
Who taught the Zandavasta to some youths
With harshness, anger, and raised voice. The tallest,
An earnest student of the Zandavasta,
One whom they used to title Búzurjmihr,
Was poring lovingly upon the roll.
Ázád Sarv turned his rein, drew near, and sought
An explanation of the great king's dream.
The scribe replied: “'Tis not my business;
The Zandavasta is my help to knowledge.
I teach these children but I do not dare
To breathe of aught beyond,” but Búzurjmihr
Said blushing to his master, having heard
The envoy's words: “This quarry is for me;
It is my business to interpret dreams.”
His teacher bawled: “Hast thou thy roll by heart
That thou shouldst thus exalt thy neck in pride,
And set up as a dream-interpreter?”
The envoy said to him: “O learnéd man!
He may possess this skill; abash him not.
This youth's lot may be high through fortune's teaching,
Not thine.”

The master wroth with Búzurjmihr

Cried: “Tell then what thou knowest,” but he
answered:—
“I will speak not till set before the Sháh.”
The envoy gave him money and a steed
With all things needful. They set off from Marv,
As pheasants pace 'neath roses, and discoursed

About the Sháh, his power, Grace, crown, and state
Till at the hour for provand and repose
They reached a spot with water, lighted down
Beneath a tree and, having eaten, rested.
While Búzurjmihr slept in the shade, his mantle
Drawn o'er his face, his noble way-mate saw,
Being still awake, a snake which drew away
The mantle from the sleeper, vehemently
Breathed over him from head to foot, then clomb
The tree. When that black snake had scaled the stem
The youth awoke, and when the serpent saw
The youth's discomfiture it disappeared
Amid the dusky boughs. The envoy stood
Astound, invoking oft the name of God,
And thought: “This wise youth will attain to great-ness!”
They left that wood, pushed on, and reached the
Sháh.
The envoy hurried first before the throne
Of Núshírwán, and said: “Oh! may thy fortune
Be ever young, O Sháh! From court I went
To Marv and roamed about as pheasant doth
Within a rosary. Amid the sages
I found a wise youth and have brought him hither
In haste.”

He told withal what Búzurjmihr

Had said and of the portent of the snake.
The world-lord called and told the dream to him.
He heard, grew full of matter, and replied:—
“There is a youth disguised in women's garb
Within thy bower. Now put all strangers forth,
That none may know our purpose, and command
Thy ladies all to pass before thy presence
With measured tread, and then I will demand
Of that bold reprobate how came he thus
Within the Lion's lair, for God will show
The secret fact to be as thou hast dreamed.”
The Sháh put forth all strangers, closed the palace
Of king of kings, and bade the eunuchs bring,
As swift as smoke, the Idols dwelling there.
They came, those Idols of his bower, in all

C. 1659

Their perfumes, tints, and beauty. All these fair ones,
Exhaling jasmine, dainty, modest, passed
With leisured tread before him, but no man
Appeared among them, and like angry lion
Raged Núshírwán. Then said the interpreter:—
“This should not be; there is a youth among them.
Bid them to pass a second time all bare,
And probe their practice to the uttermost.”
The Sháh spake thus: “Cause them to pass again,
And put away the veil of modesty.”
They passed the second time and, when all thought
The dream an empty one, a youth appeared
Of cypress-stature and of kingly looks,
But quaking like a willow and despairing
Of his dear life. Now in the great king's bower
Were seventy girls, all noble Cypresses,
And one of them, with cheeks of ivory,
Was daughter to the governor of Chách.
The youth with jasmine-face and musk-perfumed
Had been her love at home. He followed her
Where'er she went and served her like a slave.
The Sháh inquired of her: “Who is this man
So cherished by my slave, so favoured, young,
And daring, in the bower of Núshírwán?”
“He is not,” said the girl, “as old as I.
He is but young. One mother bare us both.
Our sire was different, our mother one.
There is naught wrong between us. He assumed
This kind of habit, for through modesty
He did not dare to look upon the Sháh.
Oh! make it not a pretext that my brother
From shamefastness before thee veiled his face.”
The Sháh said to the youth: “Thou worthless dog!
Both race and family are smirched by thee.”
He frowned. He was amazed at that young pair,
Then bade in wrath the executioner:—
“Let the dust hide them.”

So he haled them back

Behind the curtains of Sháh Núshírwán,
And hung them there—a warning to the rest.
The Sháh gave that interpreter of dreams
Purse, steeds, and robes, and, wondering at his know-
ledge,
Observed his sayings. They inscribed his name
Among the counsellors, the archimages.
Thus prospered Búzurjmihr, and circling heaven
Showed him its face, while ever day by day
His fortune greatened, and the Sháh's heart joyed
In him exceedingly.

C. 1660

That heart was full

Of right; the Sháh was cultured, heart and brain.
He had residing at his court archmages,
And sages understanding in all knowledge.
Three score and ten—all men of eloquence—
Were lodged and entertained continually.
He used, when not engaged with justice, largess,
Festivity or war, to question them,
And deck his heart with knowledge. Búzurjmihr,
Though still a youth, was eloquent and shrewd
And fair to look upon, surpassing all
The famed archmages, readers of the stars,
And sages, in his knowledge, and became
Exalted over those philosophers.
None was so learnéd in astrology.
In leechcraft he excelled*

and spake with ease
Of conduct, government, and policies.