THE RUIN OF IRAN

HEAR the tale of the sorrow of Valeh! For two hundred years the race of the Sefarviye ruled Iran with wisdom and good fortune; they exercised justice and judgment, and the land was made the envy of Paradise. But a young gazelle was sleeping beside a lion, an antelope had made a pillow of a lion's head! When for many years there is peace in the land, mankind makes a trade of pleasure; eyes are fixed on the goblet and the bowl, till, because of their very sloth, they lose all peace and quietness; every quarter is like the eye of the beloved* , and from deep sleep awakes disquiet. Suddenly from Kandahar arose a noise of weeping; from the horde of the Afghans a ghoul raised his head for mastery. His name was Mahmound, but his nature Abomination! In the land of Kandahar he became king, and there, for some space, abode in hope and fear. For every day, across the frontier, came news from Iran of weakness and disorder, and at last he sent forth his armies to take Kerman—and well they did their business. And from Kerman he turned his face towards the throne and the royal city of Isfahan. And as he came near the Shah ordered his vizir, with a great troop of commanders and many soldiers, to go forth to meet him. But what are numbers without merit? That countless host became as nothing.

Then in the city was great tribulation, for without was the Afghan host and within hunger and terror. Then the Afghans sent messengers, and said that they wished to make peace with the Shah and that he should be their guest. And he went out with all his nobles, and they took him, and Mahmoud became Lord of Isfahan. Now hear the tale of the sorrow of Valeh!