The treasures having been despatched she mounted
In warrior-guise, swift as a lightning-flash,
Assumed a Rúman helm and rode a steed
As swift as wind, approached Sám's court unknown
And bade the officers announce her thus:—
“An envoy from Kábul hath come to seek
The mighty chief, the hero of Zábul,
Charged with a message from Mihráb to Sám,
The winner of the world.”

The chamberlain

Went to tell Sám, who granted audience.
Síndukht dismounted, hasted to the chief

And kissed the ground, with praises of the Sháh
And of the chief of paladins. The largess,
The slaves, the horses, and the elephants
Stretched from the gate two miles. She offered all
To Sám, who sat there dazed, like one bemused,
With folded arms and drooping head. He thought:—
“Come female envoys from so rich a country?
If I accept the Sháh will be displeased;
If I decline then Zál will be chagrined
And flap his wings about like the Símurgh.”
He raised his head and said: “As for these goods,
These slaves and elephants caparisoned,
Go give them to Zál's treasurer as presents
Sent by the Beauty of Kábulistán.”
Then fairy-faced Síndukht essayed to speak,
Rejoicing that her offerings were accepted
And all had ended well. Three of her handmaids,
With idol-faces, tall as cypresses
And fair as jasmine, bearing each a goblet
Which brimmed with pearls and rubies, poured them out
In one promiscuous shower before the chieftain.
This done and strangers gone she said to Sám:—
“Thy counsel maketh old folk young. Thou teachest
The mighty wisdom, who through thee illume
The world. Thou hast sealed up the hand of ill
And opened with thy mace the way of God.
Mihráb, if any, was to blame, and he
Is weeping blood. What have our people done
That thou must raze Kábul? They only live
To do thy hest—slaves of the very dust
Upon thy feet. Fear Him who hath created
Both mind and might, bright Venus and the Sun.
He would not countenance such acts from thee:
Gird not thy loins for bloodshed.”

Sám replied:—

“Come tell me what I ask and palter not.
Art thou the slave or consort of Mihráb,
Whose daughter Zál hath seen? Tell me that I
May judge her worthiness, her mind and temper,
Her face, hair, stature, looks, and understanding—
Whatever thou hast noted tell me all.”
Síndukht replied to him: “O paladin,
The chief of paladins, the warriors' stay!
First swear an oath whereat the land shall quake
That thou wilt never injure me or mine.
I have a palace, wealth, and mighty kindred.
First reassure me and I will reply

In hope to win thy favour, and will send
Our hoarded treasures to Zábul.”

Sám grasped

Her hand and took the oath, on hearing which,
And marking that his speech and pledge were frank,
She kissed the ground, then rose and told him all:
“My race is from Zahhák, O paladin!
Spouse to Mihráb, that ardent warrior,
Am I, and mother of moon-faced Rúdába,
Of her o'er whom Zál poureth out his soul.
We and our kin before all-holy God
Bless all night long the Sháh, and thee, and Zál.
I come to know thy will, and how thou holdest
Us in Kábul. If we be bad by race
And sinners all unfit for rule, behold!
I stand before thee sorrowing. Slay thou
Who should be slain and bind who should be bound,
But as for all the guiltless of Kábul
Burn not their hearts nor turn their days to dark­ness.”
The paladin on hearing saw in her
A woman of counsel and of ardent soul,
With cheeks like spring, in height a cypress-tree,
With reed-like waist and pheasant's gait. He said:—
“My pledge shall hold although it cost my life.
Live safely and rejoicing at Kábul
With all thy kindred. I assent that Zál
Shall wed Rúdába. Though our race is other
Than yours, yet ye deserve the crown and throne;
The world so waggeth and no shame to us;
We cannot strive against the Almighty Maker,
Who doth whate'er He willeth in such wise
That we are ever crying out: ‘Ah me!’

One is exalted and another humbled,
And while one fareth well another quaketh.
The heart of one is furnished by his increase,
Another's minished by his poverty,
But after all the end of both is dust—
The element that slayeth every race.
I will exert myself on thy behalf
Because of thine appeal and bitter cry,
And have already written to the Sháh
A letter with the plaint of one in pain,
And Zál hath gone with it. Hath gone! nay rather
Hath flown! He saw no saddle when he mounted,
And then his roadster's hoofs saw not the ground!
The Sháh will smile and give a gracious answer,
For this bird's fosterling is out of heart;
He standeth in the mire made by his tears,
And if his sweetheart is as fond as he is
Their skins will never hold them. Prithee now
Let me behold the Dragon's child, just once,
On thine own terms. The sight may weigh with me
If both her looks and locks commend themselves.”
She answered: “If the paladin will gladden
His slave, let him vouchsafe to visit her:
Her head will reach high heaven. If to Kábul
We bring a king like thee, we will present
Our lives as offerings.”

She saw his smiles

And that all hate was rooted from his heart
As he replied: “Be not concerned; this matter
Will shortly turn out to thy wish.”

Síndukht

Then asking leave withdrew, and went away
In full content, her cheeks like gems for joy.

She sent a lusty courier like wind
To tell Mihráb: “Be easy in thy mind,
Rejoice and make thee ready for a guest.
I follow quickly.”

Next day, when the sun

Shot up and heads awoke from drowsiness,
Saluted as the Moon of noble dames,
Síndukht proceeded to the court of Sám,
Did him obeisance, spake with him at large,
And asked permission to go home rejoicing
To tell Mihráb about the new-made league,
And get all ready to receive their guest.
Sám said: “Depart and tell him everything.”
They chose choice gifts for her and for Mihráb,
And for Rúdába too—that lovesome maid.
Sám gave Síndukht withal all that was his
Within Kábul of palaces and gardens,
Of tilth, milch cattle, carpets and apparel,
Then took her hand, re-swore his oath and said:—
“Be happy at Kábul, and fear no foe.”
With favouring stars the pale Moon's face again
Grew bright, and she went homeward with her train.