Shápúr, whose troops were soon six thousand strong,
Sent veteran chiefs to spy out Taisafún,

And notify his high and glorious court
Of Cæsar. Instantly they went to find
How matters stood, then told the exalted Sháh:—
“No thought hath Cæsar save for wine and chase.
His troops are scattered everywhere to pillage.
There are no guards or sentries day or night,
His troops are like a flock without a shepherd.
He seeth not a foe on any side,
And so it pleaseth him to live at ease.”
Shápúr rejoiced; his troubles turned to wind.
He chose three thousand of the Íránians,
All horsemen mailed on barded chargers, armed
Himself, and marched on Taisafún by night.
He marched by night and turned aside by day.
His route lay over wilderness and mountain
By track or no track, and two leagues and more
Ahead were scouts till Taisafún was nigh.
In the third watch he reached the camp of Cæsar,
Of whom he felt no fear, heard no man's voice,
No sentries' challenge and no tinkling bells.
Tents and pavilions covered all the waste.
Who wotted of that onset? In his tent
Lay Cæsar drunk, his troops were all abroad.
Shápúr, the valiant, gave his royal steed
The rein, on seeing this, led on his powers
Against the camp, and grasped his massive mace.
Rang cloudward clarion, mace, and Indian bell;
Rose battle-cry and tumult everywhere.
Thou wouldst have said: “May be the heaven is rent,
And through the air blood droppeth from the sun!”
Gleamed Káwa's flag, gloomed night, flashed violet
swords;
Thou wouldst have said: “The air is raining them;
The world is in a mist!” Heaven disappeared
Amid the dust, the stars drew in their skirts,
And brave Shápúr wrecked worthless Cæsar's camp.
They slew twelve thousand Rúman cavaliers
And over, fired the camp, dashed heaven to earth,
And in the end made Cæsar prisoner.
His good stars grew averse. Among the tents
They captured many of his nobles, horsemen
Elect and brave, and put them into bonds.
Such is the action of the lofty sky
At whiles up-lifting and at whiles low-laying,
At whiles delighting and at whiles affraying!
The innocent that hath humanity
Is best; almighty God is his ally.
When it was day, when night withdrew its skirt,
And Sol's flag showed aloft, Shápúr commanded
A scribe to come with writing implements.
They wrote to every province, to each king,
And chief. Shápúr began: “Our heart-felt praise
Be to almighty God who helpeth others
To good but hath no need of others' help.
Since Cæsar hath kept not God's laws, but sown
Naught but the seed of wrong within Írán,
Bonds chafe him sorely, for he had not wisdom
To guide his soul. He hath resigned to us
The crown of kingship and reserveth only
His infamy. His host and court are broken
By God's own might who pointed out the way.
Those Rúmans whom ye capture in your cities
Must have their portion of the scimitar.
Seek ye all justice, do as I command,
And swear allegiance unto me afresh.”
A cameleer came to each quarter quickly,
And brought the letter of the ardent Sháh,
Who left the camp for Taisafún and there
Held session safely with his counsellors,
And, having donned the ancestral crown, gave thanks
To God, the Giver of all good. He bade
A scribe to go inside the prison-house,
And make a list of all the captives' names.
There were a thousand and five score and two
Of Cæsar's kindred and high rank in Rúm.
The world-lord lopped the hands and feet of those
That had been chief in ill, and then commanded
To bring in Cæsar, lord of Rúm. The guard
Brought him from prison like a man insane.
That tyrant, when he saw Shápúr's crown, wept;
He rubbed his visage red upon the ground,
And swept it with his lashes, grovelling,
And blessing crown and throne.

“O thou compact

Of ill,” the Sháh said, “Christian and God's foe,
Ascribing unto Him who hath no mate,
No period, and no origin, a son!
Thou art a very knave, a lunatic,
A miscreant, fool, and utterest naught but lies,
Which are an evil, unilluming fire.
Where are thy counsel, modesty, and heart
Inciting thee to good, if thou art Cæsar?
Why bind me in an ass's hide and so
Fling greatness to the dust? I came to feast
In merchant's guise, I came not forth to fight
With drums and troops, but thou didst clothe thy guest
In ass's skin and march against Írán.
Now shalt thou feel the clutch of valiant men,
And seek no more to fight Írán.”

“O Sháh!”

Said Cæsar, “who can 'scape God's ordinance?
The royal throne put wisdom far from me,
And made my soul a hireling of the Dív.
Thou wilt be famous, doing good for ill,
Because thy name ne'er will grow old, and thou
Wilt compass all thy longing by thy prowess.
If I have safeguard for my life from thee
Wealth and dínárs are worthless in mine eyes,
Then will I be a slave about thy court,
And seek for nothing but to grace thy throne.”
The Sháh replied: “Vile wretch! why didst thou
turn
This country upside down? If all the spoil
That thou didst bear to Rúm (ne'er mayst thou look
On that cursed land again!) thou wilt restore
Back from thy house to this exalted folk;
Next, if whate'er was harried in Írán,
And made the lair of lions and of pards,
Thou wilt recover at thine own expense,
And in requital for thine evil deeds;
Next, if for those Íránians whom thou slewest
Thou choosest Rúmans of the royal race,
And givest me ten for every one of ours,
Surrendering their lives as hostages,
And I will take but men of Cæsar's stock
To be with me here in this happy land;
And, next, if for each tree felled in Írán,
(None well-disposed would fell the trees of others)
Thou plant another, reinstate all walls,
And thus abate the anger in our hearts,
Shall I not bind thee as thou bindest me?
Can I forgive thee for the ass's skin?

If thou shalt fail in aught that I have said
My men shall rend thy skin from head to foot.”
As soon as he had finished his demands
Shápúr, the world-lord, as the conqueror
Split with his dagger both his prisoner's ears,
And having bored his nostrils put a bit
Therein in memory of the ass's hide,
And loaded both his feet with heavy chains;
The guard moreover bare him back to ward.
They held review and muster, and demanded
The treasury-key. The monarch massed and paid
The host, then, bent on justice and revenge,
Marched from Íran upon the coast of Rúm.
All that were in the desert and that land
They slew and set the houses there on fire,
So that the world was lighted by the blaze.
When news reached Rúm: “Our fertile lands are wasted,
And in a night-attack illustrious Cæsar
Hath been made captive,” all the people wept,
And at Shápúr's name were consumed with dread.
“Ungenerous Cæsar wrought this woe,” they said.