OH hearers, incline your ears, make ready for a hundred cries of pleasure.

In Isfahan dwelt an emir, peerless in pomp and state, his lineage was from Shamhal of the Lazgi* ; the root thereof was in Dagestan; in his face shone the light of government, and the faithfulness of his heart was to the Sefarviye* . His Shah made him Separsalar* , but his name I cannot put into verse* . And he had a brother who was his peer in merit, he also held the same proud title, and his name was Hassan Ali Khan. Now to the brother whom I have not named, God in his goodness gave a child; a child so beautiful that every finger pointed to it—a child, say? rather a full moon shining from the tower of excellence, a pearl from the casket of perfection; if love went a-trading, surely this were his merchandise! The father rejoiced in his countenance, and when he saw him he opened his treasury to the poor.

Then was the time of high feasting—the table was spread, the musicians were called, and friends innumerable came to wish the father joy. There came also a troop of astrologers, and sitting together, they examined the fate in store for the child, and they said: “A happy birth has found a happy time; the fate of this child is a thousand joys, and a thousand joys shall he shed around him. Great shall be his beauty and great his wit, but yet shall he be ever distraught and the fool of love.”

Then the father took the Koran and opened it and took a lot and said: “My son's name is Ali Ghuli Khan.”