A while passed and the Sháh went in to view
Íraj's bower, inspected it and marked
The moon-faced beauties who resided there.
He saw a slave of lovely countenance,

Whose name was Máh Áfríd. Íraj had loved her,
And fate decreed that she should bear him fruit.
The Sháh rejoiced because she was with child,
Which gave him hope of vengeance for his son,
But when her time was come she bore a daughter,
And hope deferred hung heavy on the Sháh.
He nursed the babe with joy and tenderness,
And all the folk began to cherish her
As she increased in stature and in charms.
Thou wouldst have said to her the tulip-cheeked:—
“Thou art Íraj himself from head to foot.”
When she was old enough to wed—a Pleiad
In countenance with hair as black as pitch—
Her grandsire chose Pashang to be her spouse:
Pashang was brother's son to Farídún,
Descended from a noble ancestry,
A hero of the seed of Sháh Jamshíd,
Meet for the kingship, diadem, and throne;
And in this way no little time passed on.