Now Ardawán possessed a lofty palace,
Wherein there dwelt a favourite slave of his.
She was a Moon-face hight Gulnár*—

a picture
All jewelry and colour and perfume.
She ministered to Ardawán and kept
His treasury. He loved her more than life,
And joyed and smiled to look on her.*

One day,

When she had mounted to the palace-roof,
And gladdened at that mirth,*

she saw Ardshír;
His lips were smiling, and he won her heart.
She waited till the eve or rather night,
Then tied a lasso to the battlements
With many a knot. She proved it with her hand,*

And then, invoking Him who giveth good,
Descended boldly. When in all her gems,
And savouring musk and other spicery,
She reached Ardshír she raised his head, which lay
Upon the pillow of brocade, and clasped him,
When he was wakened, tightly to her breast.
The young man marked that lovely one, her face,
Her hair, and scented bravery, and said:—
“Whence hast thou sprung to grace my troubled heart?”
“A slave am I and love thee, heart and soul,”
She answered. “I am Ardawán's beloved,
His treasurer, his darling, and delight,
But, if thou wilt accept me, thy slave now
To live but in thy sight and visit thee,
Whene'er thou wilt, and brighten thy dark days.”
A while passed thus and then mishap befell
Ardshír's inspirer. Veteran, shrewd Pápak
Died and resigned this ancient home to others.
When news reached Ardawán he sorrowed much;
His soul grew dark. The chiefs all asked for Párs,
But he bestowed it on his eldest son,*

Bade bring the drums and march forth to the waste.
As for Ardshír the world gloomed to his heart
For his protector's sake, old, shrewd Pápak.
He loathed his service under Ardawán,
And, when those tidings came, formed new designs,
For he was rash through grief and fain to flee.
Anon king Ardawán brought to his court
Some shrewd men of the readers of the stars
To learn his future, to direct his course,
And find whom fortune would inspire thereafter.

He sent them to the mansion of Gulnár
To make their observations of the stars.
They worked for three days at his horoscope,
The treasuress could hear the talk thereon
And other secrets, and spent all the days
And three-fourths of the night in listening
With longing heart and sighs upon her lips,
But very mindful of each word that passed.
Upon the fourth day these shrewd men set out
To tell the secrets to king Ardawán,
And with their magic tablets at their breasts
Went to him from the damsel's dwelling-place.
They told the secrets of the lofty sky,
To whom it turned, the time, and the degree:—
“A thing will happen at no distant date—
A matter that will wring the monarch's heart.
The least among his magnates will take flight,
A chieftain of high birth, a warrior,
And afterward become a mighty king,
A world-lord fortunate and fortune-giving.”
The heart of that renowned and prosperous prince
Was in great dudgeon at their words.

The damsel,

When all was black as pitch, went to Ardshír.
That youth was troubled like the sea and could not
Rest for one day because of Ardawán.
She told him what those shrewd men had apprised
The famous king, whereat Ardshír grew calm
And silent yet his heart was moved thereat.
He thought of flight and asked: “If I quit Rai
And seek Írán, the country of the brave,
Consider whether thou wilt go with me,
Or tarry with the king. If thou wilt go
Thou shalt be great, the Crown of all the realm.”
She said with many a sigh and bitter tears:—
“Thy slave am I, and death alone shall part us.”
Ardshír replied: “We must escape to-morrow,”
And she went back resolved to risk her all.
As soon as earth was gilded by the sun,
And dark night had been taken in the noose,
She oped the treasury and made her choice
Among the royal gems, took what dínárs
She needed, went back to her home, and there

Secured the jewels, waited till the night
Rose o'er the hills, till Ardawán was sleeping,
The coast all clear, then quitting arrow-like
The palace, took the jewels to Ardshír.
She found the atheling with cup in hand,
And all the equerries in drunken sleep.
He had picked out two noble steeds, and these
Were feeding ready saddled in their stalls.
When he beheld Gulnár, the gold, and rubies,
He laid the cup aside and forthwith bridled
The Arab steeds, put on his armour, mounted,
And grasped a watered sword. The lady rode
The other steed, and so they fled together
Toward Párs with gladsome hearts.

Now Ardawán

Was never happy either day or night
Without the fair Gulnár and would not quit
His couch unless in her auspicious presence.
When it was time to rise and have the throne
Draped with brocade, and still the damsel came not,
He was both angry and aggrieved at her.
The guards were posted at the gate without,
Throne, crown, and palace were in readiness
While from the court-gate rose the chamberlain,
Approached the famous king, and said: “There wait
The chief men of the kingdom at the gate.”