This matter ended, I proceed to tell
The story of Mahbúd, the minister.
Cease not from learning for a moment's spell,
And let not knowledge cause thy heart to err.
When thou shalt say: “My lust for wisdom I
Have satisfied and learned all needful lore,”
Fate playeth off some pretty trickery,
And putteth thee to discipline once more.
Now hearken to a rustic minstrel's lay,
Ta'en from the legends of a time long sped;*

I questioned him of ages past away,
And this is what of Núshírwán he said:—
He had an upright minister, a man
Of vigilance, who was his treasurer,
Whose heart was full of wisdom and whose rede
Was right, whose sole ambition was fair fame.
This man so well disposed was named Mahbúd:
His soul and heart were full of good discourse.
He had two sons like jocund spring who served
Continually before the king, for he,
What time he was about to mutter prayer,
Or use the archimages' sacred twigs,*

Ate only what Mahbúd himself provided,
And trusted those two sons. He used to have
His kitchen in Mahbúd's house and demeaned
Himself as guest, and that good, famed man's sons
Themselves brought in the great king's meal. The
nobles
Were wont to weep for envy of Mahbúd
At court. There was a magnate, one Zúrán,
Whose aspirations all were centred there.
He was an old man and Sháh's chamberlain,
Conspicuous at feasts and audiences;

His visage ran with tears the whole year through
In envy of Mahbúd and his two sons.
'Twas his endeavour to incense the Sháh
Against the doings of that holy man,
Yet failed to find an opening for slander
To set the monarch's mind against Mahbúd;
But how should he—that man of wisdom—know
That he possessed an enemy at court
Since never had he cause to pale one whit
For all the words and practice of that knave?
A Jew, it happened, borrowed of Zúrán
One day some money to employ in trade.
He came and went, his influence grew, and he
Became that gloomy soul's associate.
Thus, as familiar with the chamberlain,
He came to be at home about the court,
And there one day conversed in confidence
Of spells, of court, the monarch of the world,
Of magic, necromancy, and black arts,
Of crookéd practices and villainy.
Zúrán, attending to the Jew's discourse,
And hearing of the secrets of his craft,
Told his own secret to the Jew, and said:—
“Discourse not of it save with me alone.*

Thou must perform a deed of sorcery,
And give the age its riddance of Mahbúd,
Because he hath attained to such high state
That he will dominate the age itself.
He careth not for any. Thou wouldst say,
To put it shortly: ‘He is Núshírwán.’
Now he—the world-lord—will not take of food
Save only at the hands of this man's sons,
Who hath become so great through royal favour
That heaven kisseth evermore his skirt.”
The Jew replied: “This cause need not increase
Thy grief. What time the Sháh and world-lord taketh
The sacred twigs mark well what meats are served,
And see if there be any milk therein.
Meet thou the serving-man and sniff the meats;
'Twill serve if I but see the milk from far.
Then thou shalt see Mahbúd and his two sons
No more alive. Though he be brass or stone
That eateth he will perish instantly.”
Zúrán attended to these words. His heart
Was freshened as he gazed upon the Jew;
Whene'er he went to court the Jew went likewise;
They had their secrets, joys, and feasts in common.
A season passed with matters in this stay:
The court was haunted by that evil teacher,
That court whereto each dawn Mahbúd's two sons
Were wont to turn their steps so joyfully.
Behind the curtains of their noble father
There was a pious dame and well advised,
Who, when Sháh Núshírwán desired some food,
Was wont to spread a golden tray for him,

And lay thereon three platters set with jewels;
The whole was covered with a golden napkin,
And used to come before the exalted Sháh,
Served by the two sons of the good Mahbúd.
The food consisted of rose-water, milk,
And honey. Núshírwán would eat and sleep.
One day it happened that the two young men
Were going with the tray to Núshírwán;
It was conveyed upon a servant's head
To whom 'twas usual to entrust the food.
Zúrán, the chamberlain, beheld the tray
When coming to the palace of the Sháh,
And with a smile addressed the two youths thus:—
“Ye trusty lieges of Sháh Núshírwán!
Reveal for once the colour of these meats—
The Sháh's repast—because they savour well:
Withdraw the silken cover just this once.”
The young men readily displayed the food.
Zúrán, who kept his distance, gazed thereon,
And in like manner did the Jew, who came,
When he had marked the colour of the meats,
And said thus to the chamberlain: “The tree
That thou hast planted cometh into fruit.”
The two young men, both wise and vigilant,
Then carried in the tray to Núshírwán,
While after them Zúrán came quick as dust,
And thus addressed the Sháh, that noble man:—
“O Sháh, the just, the favoured by the stars!
Touch not these meats till they be tasted first.*

The cook hath mingled poison with the milk,
And may thine enemies partake thereof.”
Sháh Núrshírwán, on hearing, turned his gaze
On those two youths whose mother was the cook—
A prudent dame affectioned of her kin.
They in their innocence and rectitude
Rolled up their sleeves. Howbeit when they ate
Some of that milk and honey thou hadst said:—
“Both have been stricken by an arrow.” Both
Swooned on the spot and died there in the presence
Of Núshírwán! The monarch of the world
Beheld, his cheeks like flower of fenugreek,
And gave commandment: “Let them raise in dust
The mansion of Mahbúd, respecting none,
Upon that dust let them cut off his head,
And may he and his cook both cease to be.”
None in the palace of Mahbúd, and few
Among his kindred in the world, survived.
The Sháh gave all his goods, his women, children,
And hoarded wealth, to spoil. In that affair
Zúrán attained his wish, since Núshírwán

Was quit of that good man, and held the Jew
In high esteem who cloudward raised his head.
Heaven turned awhile with matters in this stay
While from the Sháh right hid its face away.