In the month Jamáda'-l-awwal of the year nine hundred and ninety-seven (997) I finished the translation of the Rámayaṇa, which had taken me four years. I wrote it all in couplets, and brought it to the Emperor. When I wrote at the end of it the couplet:—

“We have written a story, who will bring it to the Emperor?
We have burnt our soul, who will bring it to the Beloved?”

it was much admired. The Emperor asked me, “How many sheets does it contain?” I answered, “The first time, when written con­cisely it reached nearly 70 sheets, but the second time, when written more at length, it was 120 sheets.” He commanded me to write a preface to it, after the manner of authors. But since it was no such great recovery from my former falling out of favour, and a khutbah would have to be written without praising God and the Prophet, I dissimulated. And from that black book, which is naught like the book of my life, I flee to God for refuge. The transcription of atheism is not atheism, and I repeat the declaration of faith in opposition to heresy, why should I fear (which God forbid!) that a book, which was all written against the grain, and in accordance with a strict command, should bring with it a curse. O God! I verily take refuge in Thee from associating anything with Thee, and I know, and I beg thy forgiveness for that which I know not, and I repent of it, and say: “There is no God but Alláh, and Muḥammad is the Prophet of Alláh”. And thus my penitence is no penitence caused by fear. May it be accepted at the Court of The Gracious and Liberal!

At this time they brought an imposter Shaikh Kamál Bayání by name (P. 367) from the banks of the river Ráwí and affirmed that in the midst of conversation he had in the twinkling of an eye gone over to the other side and called out “So and so go home!” So the Emperor took him privately to the banks of a river and said: “We are fond of investigating this sort of thing. If you can show us this miracle, all the wealth and dominions that we possess are yours, and we will become your property.” When he made no sort of answer, the Emperor said: “Very well then we will bind you hand and foot, and cast you from the top of the Castle. If you come out of the water safe and sound, well and good, if not, you will have gone to hell”. Being brought to bay he pointed to his stomach and said: “I have done all this merely for the sake of filling this hell of my own!” The impostor had a cunning son, who lived at Láhor. While he was speaking, his son at the time of evening prayer, went to the other side of the river, and using the name of the person addressed, shouted out in a voice like that of his father: “So and so go!”, while the impostor on the pretence of performing the ablutions had gone down to the edge of the river and hidden himself in the stream. Another time, when the Emperor had sent him to Bakkar, he there also set up a claim to working miracles, and performed in the presence of the Khán Khánán, and Doulat Khán, his wakíl, a hundred similar wonders. On Thursday evenings, dressed as a juggler, he used to show a hand, and head, and foot, all separated.*

He made Doulat Khán Afghán, who was the Khán Khánán's factotum and âme damnée his disciple:—

“A common person, if raised in rank above the sky,
Is but a common ass, and he that believes in him is less than an ass.”

The Khán Khánán also became a believer, and swallowed the deception. And that cunning lad, having taken a golden ball from the Khán Khánán for the sake of that impostor of a Shaikh, said: “Elijah (peace be on him!) has sent you a request, and requires this ball in the water. By deceit and fraud he threw a brazen ball into the water in the sight of the Khán Khánán, and the golden ball (P. 368) he carried off by his trickery.”

In this year the Emperor called to mind my gift of the book, which I was translating, and one day he ordered Abú'l-Fatḥ to give me a shawl from the privy wardrobe, and a horse and my expenses. Then he said to Sháh Fatḥ-ulláh 'Azd-ud-doulah: “the whole of Basáwar is hereby given to you as jágír, with all its charity-lands,” and mentioning my name he said, “There is a certain man of Bádáón, we have of our own will changed his madad-ma'ásh without abatement from Basáwar to Badáón.

Sháh Fatḥ-ullah presented in a bag an offering of 1000 rupees, which by oppression and secret false accusations he had tyrannously exacted from the wretched widows and orphans of the aimah-holders of Basáwar, saying that his collectors had saved it from the charity-lands. The Emperor made him a present of it. Not three months elapsed after this event, when Sháh Fatḥ-ullah died.

When my farmán was signed, I took a year's leave, and went first to Basáwar and then to Badáón. Thence I had in my mind to go to Gujrát to see Mirzá Nizám-ud-dín Aḥmad, but adverse circum­stances occurred, which prevented my carrying this intention into effect:—

“I am not vexed that my affair
Turns out not well, but ill,
If it happen, let it happen; if not, acquiesce,
[Who knows] what will happen!”

In this year Sayyid 'Abd-ulláh Khán Chougán Begí, and Mirzá-dah 'Alí Khán, who were of the most esteemed Amírs, died in Kashmír in the following circumstances. Sayyid 'Abd-ulláh Khán on the twelfth of the month Rabí' ul-awwál* cooked some food in the name of the Soul of the Prophet (God bless him, and his family, and give them peace!), and gave some gold to the poor, and having sincerely repented of his sins went out hunting with Mírzá Yúsuf Khán, and caught a fever, and gave up his soul to the Beloved. And Mirzádah 'Alí Khán, was killed one year before (P. 369) thus, on the night when Ya'qúb made a sudden attack on Muḥammad Qásim Khán:—

Alas! for the friends of spiritual insight,
With whom we were but a short time together.
Alas! for our friends of earthy composition,
Who have left this dust-heap like the wind.
Alas! that this blood-weeping eye of mine,
Sees not now a trace of them.
They spake for a little while, they are now silent,
They are vanished from the memory of their friends.
Of all those consolers not one remains,
I and grief are left, for all my friends are gone.
How shall I lay my drowsy head on the pillow,
When my friends have made their pillow on the clay.
My heart desires the corner of solitude,
I have no desire for the companionship of any one.
Alas! that those, who now sit behind the veil of secrets,
Are not gone to a place whence they can return.
When in confusion on that bed of sorrow
I fell like clay, and settled like dust,
Over that mortal-clay I raised many a cry:
To my ear no answer came from any.

On the twenty-second of Jamáda'-s-sání* of the year nine hundred and ninety-seven the Emperor set out from Kábul for Kashmír, which he called his private garden. He left the ladies of his ḥaram with the young prince Sulṭán Murád at Bhimbar, where the road to Kash-mír begins, and went on by forced marches. When he had visited that beautiful country, he sent a farmán to the Prince ordering him the take the ḥaram on to Rohtás and there await the Emperor's arrival.

At this time that wonder of the age Sháh Fatḥ-ulláh of Shíráz developed a burning fever in Kashmír, and since he was himself a skilled physician, he treated himself by eating pottage, and however much the Ḥakím 'Alí forbade it, he would not be prevented. So the exactor Death seized his collar and dragged him off to the eternal world. He was buried on Takht-i-Sulaimán, which is a mountain near (P. 370) one of the cities* of Kashmír, by the side of the tomb of Sayyid 'Abd-ullah Khán Chougán Begí. And that king of poets Shaikh Faizí wrote as an elegy on him a tarkíbband,* of which the following verses form a part:—

“Again that time is come when the world falls out of gear,
On the world of Intellect at midday the banner of evening falls.
All the treasures of property fall into the hands of the base,
All the flood-tears of adversity fall into the cup of the generous.
Truth loses the clue of the investigation of its object,
Meaning deserts eloquence, and logic falls out of speech.
The tongue of folly wags heedlessly in talk,
Propositions are falsely stated, and proofs are inconclusive.
The heart of those who in the world seek perfection remains in eternal defect,
Like unripe fruit which falls suddenly half-ripened from the branch.
The spiritual child of the precious mothers* of excellence
Was the father of the fathers of spiritual insight, Sháh Fatḥ-ullah Shírází,
Two hundred Bu-naçars* and Bu-'alís* passed away before he appeared.
Many a dealer of this kind does Fate hold beneath its shop.
Sometimes with the camel-litter of the Peripatetics he went round the world,
Sometimes in the train of the Platonists he traversed the heavens.
The age was proud of his perfect nature,
In the time of Jalál-ud-dín Akbar Ghází.
The Emperor of the world had his eyes full of tears at his death,
(P. 381) Alexander wept tears of regret because Plato left the world!”

On the twenty-seventh of Ramazán* of this year the Emperor in­tending to go to Kábúl went by way of Pak'hlí to the fortress of Atak. During this journey Ḥakím Abu-l-fatḥ died at the halting-place of Damtúr,* and was buried in Ḥusn Abdál:—

“The caravan of the Martyr has passed on before;
Consider ours too as past, and reflect.
To outward reckoning we have lost but one body,
But in the reckoning of the Intellect more than thousands.”

And “May God give him his reward”* was found to give the date.

And outside of Atak, where the camp was, the Prince with the ḥaram met the Emperor. From this halting-place Shahbáz Khán was appointed to go and repel the remnant of the Yusúfzáí Afgháns. On the twenty-second of Zí-qa'dah* of this year the Emperor arrived in Kábul. At this time Ḥakím Hamám and Çadr Jahán returned from being with Abd'ulláh Khán, and brought a book of 'Abd-ulláh Khán's treating of Union and Conjunction.

In the year nine hundred and ninety-eight Rájah Todar Mal, and Rájah Baghwán Dás Amír-ul-umará, who had remained behind at Láhor hastened to the abode of hell and torment, and in the lowest pit became the food of beasts and scorpions, may God scorch them both! And they found the mnemosynon: “One said: Todar and Baghwán died:”* and another made these verses on him:—

“Todar Mal was he, whose tyranny had oppressed the world,
When he went to Hell, people became merry.
I asked the date of his decease from the Old Man of Intellect:
Cheerfully replied the wise Old Man: He is gone to Hell.*