And, when the imperial camp was pitched at the town of Rái Barélí, news arrived that Khán Zamán and Bahádur Khán had crossed the river Ganges and fled towards Kálpí. Consequently the Emperor, directing that the camp, under Khwájah Jahán, should be moved on towards Kaṛah, set off with all speed for Mánikpúr. Mounted upon an elephant he crossed the stream, and at that time there were not with him more than fifteen or sixteen* persons. And Majnún Khán, and Áçaf Khán, who were in the vanguard, kept from time to time sending back information concerning the whereabouts of the enemy.

It so happened that Khán Zamán and Bahádur Khán, over whose eyes Fate had drawn the blinding iron of negligence, in accordance with the following:—

‘When Fate* lets down its wings from the sky,
All the prudent become blind and deaf’—

had spent the whole night at a wine-party, and in watching an exhibition of Pátar-dancing,* and, their cup being full, they looked on the intelligence of the enemy's advance, which the scouts kept bringing in, as merely an act of rashness on the part of Majnún*

Khán (for which they cared no more, than for a measure stuffed with straw); but, as for the Emperor's approach, they had no inti­mation of it, and indeed never dreamt of such a thing.

On this day the Emperor was mounted on an elephant named Sundar,* and (P. 96) he placed Mírzá Kokah, surnamed A'zam Khán in the houda with him. He took up his station in the centre, and placed Áçaf Khán, and all the Atkas,* on the right, and Majnún Khán, and others, on the left. Now the Khán Zamán had given orders for his army to march in the morning. But sunk, as he was, in sleep and the wine, which he had drunk, he was wakened only by the Messenger of Fate. Then, by the exhibition of standards and paraphernalia of majesty, and the glory of the cavalcade, and the pom­pous beating of kettle-drums, he became certain that the Emperor in person was with the army. Accordingly, he ordered his troops to fall in, and began to draw up his lines. First he dispatched a body of renowned heroes, veterans in service, to oppose the advance of the vanguard of the imperial army. But Bábá Khán Qáqshál, who was leader of the van, with a well-directed shower of arrows repulsed them, and drove them back on the Khán Zamán. At this moment one of the horses of the fugitives rushed with terrific force against the horse of the Khán Zamán, so that through the concussion his turban became loosened from his head, and caught him round the neck like a lasso. At the sight of this occurrence [his brother] Bahádur Khán, planting firmly the foot of desperation, charged Bábá Khán with such fury, that he compelled him to retreat, and sweeping him before him, bore him back on the ranks of Majnún Khán. Then Majnún Khán, and Bahádur Khán, who had returned to the thick of the fray from the pursuit of fugitives, fell upon one another, and showed great courage. But an arrow struck the horse of Bahádur Khán, which reared and threw him to the ground, so that he was taken prisoner:—

‘When the key of victory is not in the hand,
One cannot open the door of victory by force.’

At this juncture the Emperor dismounted from his elephant, and got on horse-back, and ordered that the troop of mountain-formed ele­phants should charge the ranks of the Khán Zamán: and then the fortune of the day began to waver, and the signs of victory began to decide in the Emperor's favour:—

‘The sword of kings doth show such marks,
The great do such deeds as beseem them,
Look at a king's sword, read not the annals of the past,
For, more sooth-saying is his sword—much!’

(P. 97). And an elephant, Híránand by name, on the side of the imperial army, charged an elephant, named Oudyá, on the enemy's side, and came with such force against the head of that animal, that it felled it to the ground. And midst this hubbub and confusion, an arrow struck the horse of the Khán Zamán; and, while he was in the act of pulling it out, another arrow struck it, and it reared up and the Khán Zamán fell to the ground. At this moment an elephant-driver, riding on an elephant named Narsingh, came up; and, although the Khán Zamán kept saying to him: ‘I am a great leader, take me alive to the king, and you will get a great reward,’ the elephant-driver would not listen, but drove on his elephant, which crushed him with its trunk and feet, and ground his bones to powder, and made his body like a bag full of chess-pieces:—

‘The huge-form of elephants dashed [him] crushed to the ground,
An earthquake threw [him] on the surface of the earth:
Through all these tusks, which were weighers-out of evil,
The face of the ground became a [strewed] chess-board.’

After that the turmoil of battle had subsided, Nazar Bahádur made Bahádur Khán ride behind him on the same horse, and brought him to the Imperial Presence.* The Emperor did not wish to put him to death, but asked him: ‘Bahádur how are you.’ He replied, ‘Praise is due to God in all circumstances.’ And when he asked for water, the Emperor gave him some out of his own canteen.* But the Amírs did not deem it advisable to spare his life, so they brought about his execution.

And after a time the head of the Khán Zamán was also brought in. And for some time there was a dispute, as to whether it were the Khán Zamán's or no. At this juncture a petty Hindú Ráy, Khán Zamán's wakíl, who was of the number of the prisoners, took up the head, and, putting it upon his own, began to lament: ‘Alas! alas!’ And Khwájah Daulat a eunuch, who had once been in Khán Zamán's service, and had afterwards given in his adhesion to the Emperor, and had attained the title of Daulat Khán, said: “The way to find out whether the head is really that of Khán Zamán (P. 98) is this. He used always to chew betel-leaf on the right side [of his mouth], consequently his teeth on the right side will be black.” And so they found them. These affairs took place in the twelfth year of the reign, on the Monday in the first week of the month Zí-ḥijjah* of the year nine hundred and seventy-four (974), in the neighbourhood of the village of Maakarwál, one of the dependencies of Pairag* now known as Aláhábás. And some, who had formerly thought good to accept service under Khán Zamán, and had therefrom sucked no small advantage, found this mnemosynon for the date of his death:—

“When Khán Zamán from the world went to the winds,
The pillar of the sky fell down head over heels,
The date of his death I asked of Wisdom; he said:
Heaven having lost its support, raised a cry of despair.”*

And some others with reference to the rebellion of that party said:—

“The slaughter of two traitors to the salt, without religion.”*

And this date falls short of the correct number by one. And Qásim Arslán was the author of it. And another was said:—

‘The slaughter of 'Alí Qulí and Bahádur.’
O my Soul! ask not me, helpless, how it came about!
I asked of the Old-man Intellect “What was the year of their death?”
He heaved a sigh from his heart, and said: “Two became blood.”*

And of the number of the captives* slain [after] that battle was Mírzá Khúshḥál Bég, whom I myself had seen at an assembly in the army of Málwah, in company with Adham Khán and Pír Mu-ḥammad Khán. And, verily, the appearance of the beauty of his person and disposition was by way of being perfection, and the impression of it will never pass away from my heart. The date of his death was found as follows:—

“Khúshḥal, who was the eye of the men of wisdom,
Through the baneful influence of his star revolted from the King,
When he was slain in company with Khán Zamán,
The date came out: Rose-cheeked, fair-formed.”*

(P. 99). In this year that paragon of the age Mír Murtazá Sharíf Shírází left this deceitful caravansarai.* And at first he was buried at Dihlí, in the neighbourhood of the tomb of Mír Khusrau*

(mercy upon him!) But afterwards, when the Çadr,* and Qází, and Shaikh-ul-Islám represented to His Majesty that Mír Khusrou was a native of India, and a Sunní, while Mír Murtazá was a native of 'Iráq and a heretic,* and that consequently Mír Khusrou would be very much annoyed by his company; for there can be no doubt, but that:—