Akbar-nāmah - The Akbarnāma of Abū Fazl, Volume 2

O thou opener of the eyes of the far-seeing
Supplier of those sitting in want,
Stretch out thy hand, for the self-reliant spirit
Has fallen into the abyss of a boundless flood.

By the help of daily-increasing fortune my utterance has come thus¹ far and the burden on my heart has become somewhat lighter. I hope that by the increasing brightness of the morn of auspiciousness my heart may have new enlightenment and my tongue new strength, and that every moment the difficult task may become easy and suitable.

When my heart's guardian angel beheld me
He exclaimed from the portico of resolve,
Bring up the new Spring from life's fountain
Clothe speech with a newly-woven garment!

The auspicious cortège of the Near Year arrived during the pleasant time when the Shāhinshāh was staying in Ajmīr after the conquest of Citūr. The world-adorning standards of the sun entered Aries—the house of exaltation—and the fortresses of the buds were opened by the alert hands of the vernal gales. The armies of vegetation adorned the parterres of the garden of equability.

They spread a carpet of China brocade
On it were forms from all the seven climes
These adorned the floor of that banquet-hall of joy
They invited the grandees and called for wine
Love showed itself and desire increased
They chose their loves and grasped their cups.

After the passing of three hours and nine minutes of the night of Thursday the 11th Ramẓān 975, 10 March 1568, the auspicious transit (of the sun) took place, and the thirteenth year, to wit, the year Farwardīn, which was the first year of the second revolution, took place. It is to be hoped that thousands of revolutions and cycles (qarn) will possess the qualities of spring for the spiritual and temporal Khedive. H.M., after completing the circumambulations and celebrating the New Year's feast, left Ajmīr for the capital on the day of Isfandārmaẕ 5 Farwardīn Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday 15 Ramẓān, 14 March 1568. He travelled by Mewāt and indulged in hunting by the way. While doing so the huntsmen pointed out a tiger-jungle and H.M. the Shāhinshāh went there to hunt the beast. When he came near the reed-bed, suddenly a formidable tiger came out. The courtiers lost control of themselves and pinned the animal to the earth with life-taking arrows. H.M. the Shāhinshāh did not approve of such haste, and commanded that no one should, without orders, surround any wild beast that came out of the jungle. While H.M. was saying this, another tiger, as formidable as the first one, came out and moved towards him. When the attendants saw this, their hair stood up on their bodies, but on account of the sacred command no one ventured to advance to kill the tiger. H.M. mounted as he was, watched the tiger's eye and shot an arrow at him. The tiger, wounded as he was, daringly advanced, and came out on the high ground and sate there (?) in his wrath. H.M. got off his horse and stood there, while the brave tiger-throwers drew a circle round him. H.M. took aim with a gun and fired at the tiger, so that the ball entered at the corner of his mouth and grazed the skin below the ear. H.M. was endeavouring to discharge another bullet, and was seeking for an opportunity, but to whatever side he turned, the tiger was on the watch there, and a fitting opportunity for shooting did not present itself.

I have heard from the holy lips of the Shāhinshāh that H.M. Jahānbāni Jinnat-Āshiyānī used to relate that God had so ordained it that when a number of persons went tiger-shooting the tiger always kept his eyes on the person who was destined to shoot him. H.M. told me that he had noticed this on many occasions when he went out shooting, and found it come true.¹ In fine, when he could not get an opportunity he bade Dastam Khān advance, so that on the tiger's attention being drawn to him, H.M. might get a shot. 'Ādil, the son of Shāh Muḥammad Qandahārī, who had been chidden (for shooting the first tiger) thought that the order to advance was given to all the attendants, and he too went on from behind H.M. with a bow and arrow in his hand. The tiger turned towards 'Ādil, and when he came near, 'Ādil shot, and by force of destiny he made a miss. The tiger came on and struck him with his two paws. That strong man attacked the tiger, and put his left hand into his mouth, while with the other he drew his dagger. As fate destined something different, the dagger was fastened to the hilt, and while he was unfastening it the tiger chewed his hand. Then he drew his dagger and inflicted two wounds on the tiger's mouth. Then the tiger seized his right hand with his mouth. Meanwhile the brave men in attendance rushed in from all sides and disposed of the tiger with their swords, and at the same time 'Ādil received a sword-wound. That tiger-hearted brave man lay in agony for four months and at last the poison of the wounds caused his limbs to mortify, and he died in Agra. It would seem that this was a retribution for his disrespect to his father. The circumstances were that the shameless one lusted after the wife of his father's diwān, and that the chaste lady gave her life to death and did not yield her body to him. His father used to restrain him from this improper behaviour, and one day, he being annoyed by his father's remonstrances, struck him with his sword. In fact, if 'Ādil escaped in the judgment-hall of God by such a punishment, from the abyss of his crime he was fortunate. How could so great a transgression receive its retribution by such an event!

In fine, after enjoying the hunting, H.M. sent off his camp which had been pitched near Alwār, while he himself went by way of Nārnol and there joined the camp. From there he went on hunting, and on the day of Isfandārmaẕ 5 Ardī bihisht, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday 15 Shawwāl, 13 April 1568, he arrived at Agra. In this fortunate year Ḥājī Begam returned to the imperial dominions after visiting the two holy places (Mecca and Medīna) and distributing large benefactions and charities to the inhabitants thereof, and was rejoiced by seeing the altar of her heart and soul, and the spiritual and temporal king.

One of the events was the march of the victorious troops to take the fort of Rantanbhōr which, for strength and solidity, was the equal of Citūr. But in the middle of the way the army turned back in accordance with the orders and went off to Mālwa to put down the Mīrzās. The account of this is, that when the world-conquering forces returned to the capital after the victory over Citūr, it occurred to H.M. the Shāhinshāh that some of those leaders who had not had the happiness to serve at Citūr, or who had arrived late, should be appointed to take Rantanbhōr, which was a stumbling-block in the way of peace. In accordance with this good idea Ṣādiq Khān, Bāba Khān Qāqshāl, Samānjī Khān, Ṣafdar Khān, Bahādur Khān, Dost Khān Sahārī, and other great officers were dispatched on this service under the leadership of Ashraf Khān. The army had marched some way and then returned. Messengers brought the news that Ibrāhīm Ḥusain M. and Muḥammad Ḥusain M. had collected a number of vagabonds and had come from Gujrāt to Mālwa. They were besieging Ujjain, which is a great fortress in that province, and thereby had introduced disorder into the territory.

The circumstances of this disturbance are as follows. When Shihābu-d-dīn Aḥmad Khān, together with many of the great officers such as Murād Khān and Shāh Budāgh Khān, were sent against the Mīrzās from the vicinity of Gāgrūn, when H.M. was proceeding against Citūr, the Mīrzās felt that they could not cope with the victorious forces and hastened towards Gujrāt. They joined Cingīz Khān, the slave of Sulṭān Mahmūd Gujrātī, and who had, after the Sulṭān's martyrdom, taken possession of Cāmpānīr, Surat and Broach. He was then aiming at getting possession of Aḥmadābād and was wishing to lead an army against I'timād Khān. He regarded the coming of the Mīrzās as a valuable prize, and marched with a large force against I'timad. A hot engagement took place near the city and I'timad Khān was defeated and Aḥmadābād taken. As the Mīrzās distinguished themselves in this battle, Cingīz Khān gave them suitable fiefs in the neighbourhood of Broach. As the clay and water of their bodies were composed of turbulence, there too they extended the arm of oppression. In their presumption they laid hold of several estates and villages and traversed the country with unruly steps. Cingīz Khān sent a large army against them, but it was defeated. As, however, they could not withstand Cingīz Khān, they stirred up the dust of calamity and went off to Khāndes. There too they were not safe and set off for Mālwa, and spread the table of strife on the borders of Ujjain. Murād Khān, the jāgīrdār of Ujjain, and M. 'Azīzu-ullah, the diwāu of Sarkār Mālwa, had heard of their designs two days before, and repaired and strengthened the fort of Ujjain and stood firm.

When the news of this disturbance arrived, an order was issued that the troops which had gone off to take Ranthanbhōr should proceed to Mālwa. Thereupon the officers turned towards that province, and proceeded there in spite of the intensity of the rains. H.M. the Shāhinshāh separated from his court and added to the troops several of the great officers such as Qulīj Khān and Khwāja Ghīāṯu-d-dīn 'Alī of Qazwīn, the latter of whom had been appointed Bakhshi.

When the troops reached Saronj, Shihābu-d-dīn Aḥmad Khān, who was jāgīrdār there, joined them with a proper equipment. In Sārangpūr Shāh Budāgh Khān, who was governor there, joined them. When the Mīrzās heard of their approach they lost confidence and fled in confusion to Māndū. Murād Khān and Mīr 'Azīzu-ullah Diwān and other great officers pursued them, and the Mīrzās fled from Mandū and went off in confusion to the Narbada. A large number of their followers gave their lives to the waves of annihilation. While there, they heard of Cingīz Khān's having been killed by the treachery of Jajhār Khān Ḥabshī and of the divisions in Gujrāt. They considered that Gujrāt would be a grand asylum for them and went off there. The officers continually pursued them and came up to the Narbada. But as the conquest of Gujrāt was reserved for another knot of time, they did not, in the absence of orders, proceed further and so turned back. The jāgīrdārs of Mālwa remained at their fiefs, and the other officers, such as Ashraf Khān, Qulīj Khān, Sādiq, and Khwāja Ghīāṯu-d-dīn 'Ālī, returned to court. As H.M. had heard that they had shown tardiness in setting off and in pursuing the Mīrzās, they were for some days under his displeasure. But when it appeared that the tale-bearers and stirrers up of strife had reported what was untrue, they were encompassed with princely favours. The Mīrzās managed to drag themselves to Gujrāt, and as they found the country without a ruler, they got possession, without a contest, of the forts of Cāmpānīr and Surat. Ibrāhīm Ḥusain M. went to Broach. Rustam Khān, a Turkish slave, in whose house lived Cingīz Khān's sister, made the fort strong and shut himself up in it. The strife-mongers besieged it for two years, and Rustam Khān continually sallied out of the fort, and did Rustam-like feats. But as he was without a head, and despaired of help, he came to terms and surrendered the fort. By perfidy and deceit the lords of dissension caused his life also to come out of the fortress of his body. The affair of the Mīrzās, and the end of those troublers will be related in this noble volume in its proper place.

One of¹ the occurrences was that the officers of the Atka clan were removed from the Panjab and that the government of that country was entrusted to Ḥusain Qulī Khān, who on account of his good services received the title of Khān Jahān. It is not hidden from the hearts of the far-seeing aud clear-sighted that the spiritual garland-twiners of sovereignty (i.e. kings) resemble gardeners. As gardeners adorn gardens with trees and move them from one place to another, and reject many, and irrigate others, and labour to rear them to a proper size, and extirpate bad trees, and lop off evil branches, and remove trees that are too large, and graft some upon others, and gather their various fruits and flowers, and enjoy their shade when necessary, and do other things which are established in the science of horticulture, so do just and far-seeing kings light the lamp of wisdom by regulating and instructing their servants, and so uprear the standard of guidance. Whenever a large body is gathered together of one mind and speech, and show much push and energy, it is proper to disperse them, firstly for their own good, and secondly for the welfare of the community. Even if no improper act in consequence of the aggregation be seen or suspected, such dispersion is the material of union, for peace cannot be established when there is damage from the man-throwing wine of the world, and the weak-headed drinkers of the cup of its intoxication! Especially when strife-mongers and tale-bearers abound! Negligence is implanted in the human constitution. Accordingly the wisdom and statesmanship of the Shāhinshāh demanded that the loyal members of the Atka Khail, who had for a long time been gathered together in the Panjāb and been administering that province, should leave it, and after appearing at Court should have charge of another territory. Although previously to this, viz., when the Khān Kilān had gone to Kabul, or when M. Ḥakīm had with a few troops besieged Lahore, wonderful stories had been told about those loyal men, they had not been credited by H.M., who is a world-revealing cup of terrestrial and celestial mysteries. But in conformity with the above-mentioned canon, which is consonant with the religion of sovereignty, he resolved that all the officers of the Panjāb and the jāgīrdārs of that province should be summoned, and that the control of that territory should be entrusted to some other persons from among the intimate courtiers. At the time when the sublime army had conquered the fortress of Citūr and returned to the capital, an order was issued calling for the officers of the Panjāb, and those auspicious ones made respectful haste, and in Shahriyūr, Divine month, corresponding to Rabi'-al-awwal 976, August 1568, did homage in Agra, the capital. After a short period, the Sārkar of Sambal was made the fief of Mir Muḥammad Khān, Sarkār Mālwa given to Quṭbu-d-dīn Muḥammad Khān, and Sarkār Qanauj to Sharīf Khān. All the descendants and scions of this glorious clan were distinguished by the grant of suitable fiefs. As M. Koka was continually in attendance on H.M., his Panjāb jāgīr was left as it was, while the province was made over to the government of Ḥuṣain Qulī Khān who was summoned from Nāgor. He arrived and made the dust of the sublime threshold the collyrium of the eyes of his fortune at the time when the army was proceeding to conquer Ranthanbhōr. He accompanied this expedition, and when the fort was taken and the country conquered, he came to the capital and was sent off with his brother Ism'aīl Qulī Khān to administer the Panjāb.

In this fortunate year Shihābu-d-din Aḥmad Khān came, in accordance with orders, from Sarkār Mālwa and did homage. The world-adorning mind directed that as the management both of political and financial matters was beyond Muẓaffar Khān's powers, and he could not give proper attention to exchequer affairs, one of the able, peasantry-cherishing, honest and laborious officers should be specially appointed to this high office. In accordance with this idea H.M. nominated Shihābu-d-dīn Aḥmad Khān—who possessed a large share of those qualities—to the office of the Exchequer. He took proper pains to administer this department, and as the exchequer-business was large, and honest men, or rather officers¹ who did not much embezzle, were few, he abolished the yearly settlement (ẓabṭ-i-hirsāla) which was a cause of great expense and led to embezzlements, and established a rate (nasq), and by his acuteness² suppressed the fraudulent.

The chastisement of the stiff-necked ones who cocked the cap of pride, and whose heads held the brain of turbulence, as well as the cherishing of the obedient who bow themselves beneath the burden of submission and move swiftly under it, are for great princes the most exquisite form of religious worship. Thanks be to God! H.M. the Shāhinshāh has always kept this praiseworthy object in view. Accordingly he has by daily-increasing fortunes from time to time cleansed the heart-expanding territories of India from the weeds and rubbish of strife-mongers. When the lofty fortress of Citūr had been conquered, and the rebellious ones trodden by the elephants of the troops of fortune, he turned his attention to the fort of Rantanbhōr which was Citūr's equal. As officers who were organisers of victory had repeatedly been appointed to take it, and something had always occurred to prevent this—and indeed it would appear that the arbiters of destiny had reserved this great feat for the expedition in person of the Shāhinshāh—he by Divine inspiration decided to accomplish the undertaking at this auspicious time. Accordingly, on the day of Āẕar 9 Dai, Divine month, corresponding to Monday the 1st Rajab, 21st December 1568, the expedition for the conquest of this great fortress took place. In order to strengthen his heart by the influences of holy recluses he marched by way of Delhi, and in the sacred places there sought for amplitude of light. Especially did he visit the perfumed shrine of that sitter on the spiritual and temporal throne, H.M. Jahānbānī Jinnat Āshiānī, and did he confer princely largesse on the attendants thereupon. Similarly he bestowed liberal alms on all the custodians of other shrines, and weighted the skirts of the hopes of the empty-handed ones of the city by generous gifts. In the neighbourhood of the town of Pālam, which is near the city, he had a qamargha hunt and engaged in the pursuit of joy. In that pleasant locality he had various delights, and engaged in spiritual and physical hunting. From thence he went, hunting by the way, through Mewāt, and after spreading the shadow of his justice over the city of Alwar he moved further forward.

One of the instructive occurrences was that in the neighbourhood of the town of Lālsot¹ the elephant Mansukha² (mind's delight), which was one of the special elephants, became mast and rushed at the elephant of Shaikh Muḥammad Bokhārī. With his two tusks he so lifted up that elephant as to amaze the spectators. That famous elephant received an injury to its chest, and died after two days. Its female companion for three days after this occurrence did not touch water, or rice or fodder. The more they tried to induce her to eat, the less inclination did she show to do so. At last she died on the third day, from grief at the separation from her companion. When such marks of affection appear in beasts, what deeds are there which may not be displayed among human beings? But no one must reason from this to persons who are human in shape, but not in reality, for such persons are lower than fossils. In brief, by seeing this catastrophe spiritualists had the lamp of their understandings illuminated, while the simple ones of the school of loyalty received a tablet of instruction in devotion. After traversing various stages H.M. the Shāhinshāh reached Rantanbhōr on the day of Anīrān 3 Bahman, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday 21 Shābān, 10 February 1569. This fort is in the middle of the hill-country. Hence they say that all other forts are naked, while this is mail-clad. The real name of this fort is Rantahpūr,³ and Ran is the name of a high hill which overtops it. On this account the fort has got this name. The fort is very lofty and strong, so that the lasso of the imagination cannot reach its battlements, nor the catapult of the fancy be effectual against its high walls.

They saw a hill with its head on Arcturus,
Not made of hands, or by water and clay
On it was a fort which since Time
The bird of thought had not passed by
The Pleiades were its first pillar
No such fort was to be seen in the world.

At that time Surjan Hārā was ruler of the fort. He had strengthened it in various ways, and had provisioned it, and having prepared for war, he had in his folly grounded his presumptuous hopes on this piece of stone. On the day after his arrival H.M. the Shāhinshāh had come out of the defile where his camp was pitched and examined the hill in company with a few of his special courtiers. He went up to the top of the hill and studied with far-seeing eyes the height of the fort. He brought the figure of its conquest into the mirror of his imagination and tightened the straps of resolution for its capture.

Thus spoke the illustrious Khāqān
O famed one, the memorial of the world,
By the favour of God the Creator
I shall cast this fort to the ground.

In accordance with the world-conquering commands the able Bakhshī-s arranged the batteries round the hill on the summit of which the fort was situated. The ocean-like army surrounded it with its billows, and took the form of a devastating flood. Egress and ingress were so blocked for the garrison that the wind could not enter. They were active in firing cannon, and the thunderbolt of wrath burnt up the life-harvest of the ill-fated enemy.

One of the occurrences during the siege was the arrival of Mahdī Qāsim Khān from the journey to the Ḥijāz. He from a confused brain had gone off on this journey from Garha, which was his government, without leave from H.M. Having been struck with shame he had come to Qandahar by way of 'Irāq, and from there he came to Ranthanbōr and did homage. He presented 'Irāqī horses and other things, and as the nature of H.M. the Shāhinshāh is such that he feels ashamed¹ for transgressors, he showed kindness and humanity and gave him a robe of honour, etc. He also gave him the Sarkār of Lucknow and its territory as his fief, and afterwards conferred upon him the dignity of an Amīr.

While the Shāhinshāh was engaged in besieging Ranthanbhōr the standard of the army of Spring was upreared, and the “'aṭr” of the New Year took possession of the world. The mouth of the bud opened, and the fire of the rose shed sparks.

The new spring was like young men's minds
And fresher than the brains of the wise
The garden-fortress shot fire from the rose
The armies of the jasmine and cypress careered,
The hyacinth-bed shed everywhere perfume
And excited more joy than the mountain-shade
The tulip in the field seemed to hold up a flag,
The thunder in the clouds was like a mountain-echo
The breeze brimful of the bounty of the world's morn
Suffused the earth's brain with fragrance.

By the felicity of the Shāhinshāh the outer world took the freshness and pleasantness of the spiritual world. The Great Luminary—the gift-bestower on the world—entered its house of exaltation after 7 hours, 9 minutes of the night of Friday the 22nd Ramẓān 976, 11 March 1569, and the 14th year or the Divine Year Ardī-bihisht of the 2nd cycle began. The vernal breeze gave the news of the blowing of the rose and proclaimed victory to mortals, and the birds of the garden sang in chorus. As after consideration it appeared certain that the enterprise was impossible without the application of sābāṭs which are the demolishers of the stiffnecked, an order was given to Qāsim Khān Mīr Barr-u-Baḥr to prepare one. For greater security Rajah Todār Mal, who had the control of the vīziership, was also employed on this service. Able superintendents raised a lofty sābāṭ near the valley of the Ran. Strong stone-cutters as well as smiths and carpenters addressed themselves to this duty. In a short space of time the work was far advanced, and the work became on a level with the fort. Great culverins, each of which was with difficulty dragged over level ground by two hundred pairs of oxen, and which threw a stone of sixty mans and a bullet¹ of thirty mans were drawn up such a mountain full of heights and hollows by winding paths by iron-armed kahārs and strong-shouldered porters, by the genius of the Shāhinshāh who is the opener of physical and spiritual knots, over the hillock of the Ran where the royal battery was. In accordance with orders firing began. At every discharge there was a reverberation in the mountain, the ears of the solid rocks were opened, and there was a breach in the walls of the fort and the houses went to dust.

On seeing this state of things the smoke of amazement rose in Sūrjan's brain, and dust was evolved from his breath. His pride was shattered, and the fire of his disposition quenched. At the end of the month of Ramẓān, 19th March 1569, which was the first day of victory, the Shāhinshāh remarked: “If the garrison do not to-day come to do homage, next day, which is the 'Īd, the fort will be our target (qabaq).” Sūrjan's heart gave way. He employed the intercession of the courtiers and sent his sons Dūda and Bhoj to court. They succeeded, by the instrumentality of some high officers, in obtaining an interview and placed the foreheads of supplication on the threshold of sincerity. They begged the pardon of their father's offences and requested that they might perform the prostration (sijda). Inasmuch as the ocean of the Shāhinshāh's forgiveness is always in motion, the ear of their hope was made heavy by the jewels of favour. They were attired with robes of pardon and sent to their father. One of the strange things that occurred on that day was that when the sons of Sūrjan were brought out from the royal pavilion to receive their robes of honour, one of the doomed Rajputs, who was with them, conceived the notion that possibly an order had been issued for the seizure of the lads. In his loyalty he got excited and proceeded to draw his sword. Bipākdas (?) Sakrwāl, a servant of Rajah Bhagwant Dās, was near at hand, and began to rebuke the Rajput and to give him advice. The fated one attacked him with his sword, but that excellent man did not budge and continued his admonitions, saying that his duty was clear, that he was the friend of both parties, and that the Rajput should desist as he was under a mistake. The furious man did not attend to him, but ran towards the royal daulatkhāna. He wounded Pūran Mal, son of Kānth Sajāwat, and also one or two others. He also clove to the middle Bahāu-d-dīn Majẕub of Budāūn, who was in the circle of admirers of the holy beauty (of Akbar). Meanwhile one of Moẓaffar Khān's servants came up and disposed of him. H.M. the Shāhinshāh was astonished at the occurrence. Though the sons of Sūrjan were not to blame and were not censured, yet they were somewhat ashamed. They were encompassed with favours and joyfully rejoined their father, and communicated to him the happy intelligence. Sūrjan, in order that his honour might be preserved, begged that one of the intimate courtiers might come and introduce him to the court, and H.M. the Shāhinshāh granted his request, and nominated Ḥusain Qulī Khān. When the latter drew near the fort, Sūrjan hastened to meet him, and to convey him with honour to his house. On the day of Māh the 12th Farwardīn, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday 3 Shawwāl, 22nd March, he came out of the fort and prostrated himself at the threshold. He tendered suitable gifts, and the keys of the fort, which were made of gold and silver. He was treated with great favour and attained to security and tranquillity. Through some courtiers he represented that after three days spent in the fort he would bring out his family, etc., and that thereafter he would make over the fort to the imperial servants and proceed himself to the capital. Meanwhile his sons would wait on the royal stirrup. H.M. accepted his proposition, and gave him leave to depart. An order was issued for the dispersal of the troops. Sūrjan entered the fort, and was occupied for three days in bringing out his dependants and his goods, and then made over the fort, with its granaries, and stores to Mihtar Khān, who was one of the great officers. The conquest of such a lofty fort, which great rulers had not been able to accomplish after long sieges, and which Sulṭan Al'aū-d-dīn had taken with great difficulty after a year, was effected by H.M. the Shāhinshāh in the space of one month. Next day H.M. entered the fort. The cries of “God is great” (Allah Akbar) resounded in that heaven-like mountain, and songs of exultation rose high from holy celestials!

Wherever the eye looked, there was sign of victory.
Wherever the ear applied itself, there was news of conquest.

When by the help of fortune the standard of victory had been raised high as Capella, and the management of Ranthanbhōr had been arranged for, Khwāja Jahān and Moẓaffar Khān were, in accordance with orders, sent off to the right with the large camp towards the capital, while H.M. the Shāhinshāh went off with his intimates towards Ajmīr and the illustrious shrine. Every day he enjoyed the pleasures of hunting till at length he reached that delightful city (Ajmīr). H.M. paid his respects to the shrine and scattered coin into the skirts of the attendants. During the week that he spent there he visited the shrine every day, and in going and coming showed great reverence. Afterwards he proceeded towards the capital.

When he alighted at Amber, Rajah Bhagwant Dās, whose native town it was, came forward with sincerity and arranged a feast. He also tendered noble gifts. The royal cortège moved from thence, stage by stage. On the way news was brought to H.M. of the death of Darbār Khān. At the time of proceeding to Ajmīr he had, on account of severe illness, obtained permission to repair to the capital. In accordance with heaven's decree he died in that city. As H.M. is a mine of gentleness and an appreciator of merit, he was rendered very melancholy by this catastrophe. As in the world of asceticism and isolation patience and endurance in such matters is proper, so in the world of association are restlessness and disturbance approved of. But in the case of an all-sincere king such events are but the polishers of the jewel of devotion! In accordance with his directions (waṣīyat) that faithful servant was buried at the foot of the royal dog,¹ where formerly a dome had been erected by him. His children were encompassed by royal favours. May almighty God preserve this loyalty-rewarding Shāhīnshāh for epochs and cycles on the throne of dominion, and not suffer the dust of sorrow to touch the hem of his ever-vernal heart!

O God, as long as there is a centre to the sky
Make not the world vacant of this King
May the heavens be his signet ring
May the key of the world be in his sleeve.

In fine, after traversing various stages he arrived at Agra on the 31st Ardībihisht, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday 24 Ẕī-l-q'ada, 11 May 1569, and alighted in the centre of the citadel in the Bangāli-Maḥal which had been newly constructed. The gates of justice and graciousness were thrown open for mankind.

The breezes of fortune which blew from the vent-hole of fortune caused the flowers of the gardens of success to smile, and the boughs of victory to become heavy with fruit. The aspirations of joy were fulfilled. Proclamations issued from the³ four pillars of dominion, and joyful tidings from the six sides of fortune. As an instance of this, on the 32nd day of Amardād, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday 29 Ṣafar 977, 11 August 1569, messengers brought the news of the capture of Fort Kālinjar. That fort is built upon a hill, and is equal to the cærulean fortress of the spheres.

If one vows to ascend the hill
He afterwards searches for a means of fulfilment
When one sees a higher hill than it
His to-day will be the day after the resurrection.

This fort was in the possession of Rajah Rām Cand, the ruler of Panna. During the evil time of the Afghans he got possession of it by giving a large sum of money to Bijlī Khān, the adopted son of Bihār Khān.¹ At the time when the army of victory proceeded against Ranthanbhōr, an order was issued to Majnūn Khān Qāqshāl, Shāham Khān Jalāīr and other officers, who had jāgīrs in the eastern provinces for the taking of Fort Kālinjar. They obeyed the command and laid siege to the fort. The garrison was brought into difficulty so that no one could put his head out of the fort. When the report of the captures of Citūr and Ranthanbhōr resounded in the ears of the haughty ones, everyone whose eyes had been in a measure touched by the collyrium of understanding saw that there was no remedy except to lay down the head of presumption on the ground of submission. Rajah Rām Cand, who possessed some rays of intelligence, heard of the arrival of the holy cortège at the capital, and asked for quarter. He made over the fort to the imperial servants and sent the keys along with splendid presents along with confidential agents to the sublime threshold, and offered his congratulations on the recent victories. His wisdom and foresight were approved of, and his agents were received with favour. The government of the fort was made over to Majnūn Khān Qāqshāl. By the felicity of the Shāhinshāh's fortune such a fortress upon whose battlements the eagle of the imagination of former rulers had never alighted, came into the possession of the imperial servants without the trouble of a battle or a contest.

One of the occurrences was the arrival of the ambassador of the Rajah of Kajlī² which is a province of India near Malabār. The ambassador made many demonstrations of loyalty to the Shāhinshāh. The Rajah was distinguished among the landholders of that part of the country for his territory and wealth, and on one occasion having received benefit from the sect of jogīs he had since a year adopted their costume and treated them with honour. This Rajah had beheld in a dream the spiritual and physical glory of H.M. the Shāhinshāh and had become one of his disciples and continually made inquiries of travellers concerning him. He was always meditating the sending of the rarities of the country to court, and the expressing of his devotion. But on account of the distance and the intervention of islands (peninsulas?) and mountains, and of oppositions from enemies, he could not effect his purpose. None of his servants accepted this mission which was distant, and the path of which led through enemies. The son of his Vizier in his wisdom and disinterestedness undertook the journey. He said that though the journey might not be accomplished by preparation and expenditure, et cetera, yet he would as a single individual give his energy to it, and by every exertion in his power reach the court. He would both discharge his duty to his master and show his devotion to him, and also attain eternal felicity for himself by beholding the Shāhinshāh. As the Vizier's son was dear to his father and mother they did not give him leave to go, but at last that auspicious one, after a thousand efforts, obtained a willing or unwilling permission and set off. The Rajah said, “Though you are conveying to the court the best thing in the world, viz., genuine sincerity, yet it is indispensable that the dues of dependence be paid. But if all my jewels and my wealth were taken there, what show would they make, and what value would be placed on them? Especially, how can you carry rarities in this condition, and how can you protect them from the dangers of the road? But I have a knife which was made by former physicians of this country, and who constructed it according to talismans and charms. Though in appearance it possesses no value, yet its virtue is that whenever it is applied to a swelling it removes it. I make over this rarity to you that you may put it into the hollow of a staff and carry it with you, so that it may be a memorial of me.” The ambassador set off; he was for a long time in attendance on the court but could not get an introduction. At last he was introduced through Rajah Bīrbar. That protector of the poor and favourer of the humble (Akbar) sent for him and granted him his desire. After doing homage he produced that rarity and was rewarded with favours. Afterwards he took leave and returned to his country. To this day the knife is in the general treasury. I have frequently heard from the holy lips of the Shāhinshāh that more than two hundred persons, who were near to death, obtained health by touching that knife. Such refulgent power has been shown by the world-adorning Creator! When one is of a lofty nature and exalted genius, the world-bestowing Deity casts without entreaty into the bosom of his fortune the fulfilment of a wish which has not yet entered into his heart. What wonder then if He grant wishes that such an one has formed! The wise man knows how the desires of that spiritually and externally great one are granted daily. An instance is the happiness-increasing existence of a son which the sovereign was always imploring from the Divine Court. In this year that great blessing was bestowed, and the lord of the world and of men obtained the fulness of joy.

The Lord of the world, Depicter of the External, Revealer of the Internal, after his outward and inward condition had attained perfection, was searching for some individual among the sons of men that he might hold fitting converse with, as is indispensable in the world of associations. Though he made much search, he did not find anyone. The evangelists of the inner world, and the informants of the external, all announced that a person who could hold converse with the cream of existences must be born from himself, and that he should be urgent in begging a son from God the Creator and the Giver of life, so that there might both be a confidant of the holy feast of the Shāhinshāh who was worthy of the title (of son?) and also that an ocean of Divine bounty, which had been for so many thousand cycles reared under the sacred eyes of God, might emerge into the world of existence. The noble series would thus go on from fount to fount and from column to column (jadūl), and the grades of mankind would, in proportion to their capacities, partake of the banquet of spiritual and physical blessings, and be zealous in respect and obedience. The pious King, who used not to make any other requests to God, became a wisher for this great boon. The Great Giver has unasked granted him a spiritual and temporal kingdom, and has bestowed on his unique servant such things as do not come within the world's comprehension. The far-seeing sage knows what sort of glorious pearl will be granted if such an unique one of the world ask a boon from his constant Patron. In a short space of time there appeared signs of the attainment of this desire. Inasmuch as it is the noble nature of this Shāhinshāh that in spite of the possession of boundless treasures he seeks the knowledge of God from dervishes, ascetics and theologians who withdraw their hands from everything and regard as the most acceptable service of God the contemning of their senses, and so pass their time in worship and austerities, he employed supplications and continually cultivated the regard of the toilers in the fields of search (after God) who spend their days in ecstatic devotion. At this time the lights of God-knowingness, God-worshipping, and of austerity were conspicuous in Shaikh Selīm of the town of Sīkrī, which has become a capital by the glory of the Shāhinshāh's advent and is called Fatḥpūr. By means of Shaikh Muḥammad Bokhārī and Ḥakīm 'Ain-al-mulk and a number of other courtiers who had the right of audience, this was brought to the royal hearing, and it was determined that the matrix¹ of the sun of fortune together with several of the officials attached to the Zenana (lit. the screens of chastity) should be conveyed to Fatḥpūr and should enjoy repose in the vicinity of the Shaikh. It was also ordered that a royal palace should be established there so that the saintly Shaikh might address himself to the Author of bounties for the attainment of the great boon. The blessings of his proximity were manifested in the appearance of the desired object. previous to this also, the Bestower of gifts had presented the sove??ign with several children, but they had been taken away for ??ousands of wise designs, one of which might be the increasing of ??y in the acquisition of the priceless pearl. The general suspicion ??ferred their loss to local circumstances, and expressed itself in ??rious stories. Hence the ruler of things, spiritual and temporal, ??ished by changing the locality to place the seal of silence on ??ssips. He accordingly adopted this course and was always hoping ?? God the Giver of many things, and was waiting for the advent of ??e unique pearl of the Caliphate. At length, in an auspicious ??oment the unique pearl of the Caliphate emerged from the shell of ??e womb, and arrived at the shore of existence in the city of ??atḥpūr. At the ascension-point of the 24th degree of Libra after ??even hours had elapsed of the day² of Rashn 18 Shahriywar, Divine month, corresponding to the beginning of Āb (August) 1880 Rūmī, 11 Bahman of the year 938 of the old Yezdijird era, or¹ the day of Dīn 24 Shahriywar of the Jalālī year 491, or 977 of the lunar era, the star of auspiciousness rose from the horizon of fortune.

The flower of joy bloomed in the glorious garden
Fruit appeared on the plant of realm and religion.

Messengers conveyed the happy tidings to Agra, and there was general rejoicing. Delight suffused the brain of the age.

Time arranged an assembly of enjoyments
The cup-bearer sate and the glass rose up
There was a banquet more joyous than life's foundation
A cup-bearer unequalled as a drawer of cups
They made an illumination for the world
There was a vernal assemblage
The flower shot up and the garden shone forth
A lamp came and lighted up the family
There was a fortune like the brain of the wise
The world arose with an awakened fortune
The zephyrs moved while scattering flowers
The earth rose up and joined the sky
The king came and the desire of friends was fulfilled (lit. s??)
He sate at the feast by the cup and the relish
His diadem he raised to the sky
His forehead he fastened to the ground
He issued a proclamation for enjoyment
He invited the world as his guest
The cup-bearer opened the lid of the goblet
The treasurer opened the door of the treasury
The skirt and wallet of the sky were filled
In order that it might shower pearls on the earth.²

Among the notes of thanksgiving for this everlasting favour there was this, that all the prisoners in the imperial domains who were shut up in fortresses on account of great crimes, were released. There was a fresh market-day for joy, and the lamp and eye of fortune was rekindled. It is great wisdom to deal with the conditions of mankind in accordance with the notions and understandings of each of them so that all may be brought into order. The art of eloquence consists in having regard to the condition of one's audience. Every one who has studied ancient histories knows that the chief cause of the troubles of the world has been that rulers and the great ones of the age have ignored the measure of the capacity of their hearers, and have carried themselves towards the generality with reference merely to their own far-sightedness. The general public have had no notion of the grand conclusions of the eminent. Few indeed comprehend such high matters, and hence they abide in exclusion and loss. God be praised! H.M. the Shāhinshāh merely by the help of God while he is in the crowd of the short-thoughted and superficial does not proceed upon his God-given wisdom, but converses with every group, nay with every individual suitably to the latter's comprehension. Accordingly the acute of every group conjecture or rather are certain that the prince of the world has no other understanding or knowledge except what he shows to them! Accordingly at this time when the Great God had bestowed such a gift, it was proper that he should go with all possible speed and illuminate the eyes of that blissful infant with the light which a secret power hath implanted in him (Akbar). But as the common people of this country have an old custom according to which whenever God, after long expectation, has bestowed an auspicious child, he be not produced before the honoured father till after a long delay, H.M. respected this feeling and put off his visit to Fatḥpūr. That new fruit of the garden of fortune was kept in his birthplace, and the care of him was entrusted to eminent persons. From spiritual and physical associations he received the name of Sulṭān Selīm. It is hoped that he may grow up in spiritual and physical well-being under the guardianship of the Shāhinshāh, and be fortunate by pleasing H.M., which is a sign of pleasing God. May he, by the blessings of the holy breathings of the Shāhinshāh, attain to spiritual and physical old age and be green and full of sap in the spring of fortune! In accordance with directions, astronomers calculated the powers of celestial sires and terrestrial mothers (the planets and the elements) and presented the horoscope. And as there is a discrepancy ¹ between Greek and Indian astrologers with regard to fundamental principles and their consequences in the matter of the stars, a horoscope was prepared according to each scheme.² If time allows and my mind be vigorous I shall, under the orders of H.M. the Shāhinshāh, and by the strength of my own understanding, draw out a new horoscope in accordance with the Greek and Indian canons and record its judgments for each year, so that it may be a code for horoscope-makers of the age. At present, my time is occupied night and day in the service of H.M. the Shāhinshāh, and I cannot do as my heart would desire even in that respect. Where then is there time for other occupations? As the horoscope which Maulānā Cānd drew up according to the Greek canon appears most worthy of confidence, it is set down first.

Poets composed gratulatory odes in honour of this eternal joy and received great gifts. One of the able ones found that “A royal pearl of the great ocean, Dar-i-shawār-i-laḥaja akbar, 977” was the date of the auspicious birth. A learned person found “A pearl¹ of the Shāhinshāh's mansion,” and another “A pearl of Akbar Shāhī's casket,” Gohar-i-daraj-i-Akbar Shāhī.

Khwāja Ḥusain² of Merv presented an ode, the first line of every couplet of which gave the date of the Shāhinshah's accession, while the second gave the date of the birth of the pearl of the casket of auspiciousness. In spite of the inclusion of two such wondrous dates, the poetry was not devoid of excellence. Some verses of it are given below.

God be praised for the glory of the King
A splendid pearl came ashore from the ocean of justice
A bird alighted from the nest of grandeur
A star appeared from the zenith of glory and beauty
Such a rosebush cannot be shown in the parterre
Such a tulip has not opened in the tulip-bed,
Hearts were gladdened because the world revived
From the heaven of justice as spring does from the sun
That new moon of the house of power, beauty and pomp came forth
That nursling of the soul's desire of the King fruited,
The King of faith's realms, the Sultan of purity's portico,
The lamp of the disheartened, the desire of the expectant,
The just and perfect Muḥammad Akbar, Lord of Conjunction
The renowned King, seeking and attaining his desires,
Perfect in wisdom, the most just of Kings,
Just, noble, unparalleled for understanding,
Pleasing shadow of God, worthy the diadem and signet,

Defender of the faith, just centre of the world,
Know that the fourth heaven (the sun) is the censer for his assembly
That¹ Arcturus has come as spearman for his cortège
Light of the mansion of existence, pearl of liberality's sea
A falcon who hunts souls from his desire of capturing the summits of hearts.
O King, I have brought a chain of exquisite pearls
A gift from a glorious mine²: seek it out, hang it in thine ear.
No one has brought a better gift, if any has
Tell him to bring it, let him produce what he has,
The first hemistich contains the King's accession
From the second, receive the birth of the Light of the eyes
That the count of years, months and days may last
And that it may endure for cycles
May our King be permanent and also the Prince
For countless days and unnumbered³ years.

One of the joy-increasing occurrences was H.M. the Shāhinshāh's engaging in the hunting of cītahṣ. The lord of the world, though under various forms he appears to be enjoying himself, is in reality carrying on the worship of God. He both tests men and discovers the secrets of the kingdom. With this view he makes hunting a means of gaining knowledge, and employs himself in real devotion. Among these things he especially inclined to the hunting of cītahs, and he has traps made for catching them. The custom was that when news was brought of a cīta having fallen into a trap,¹ he immediately mounted a swift horse and went off to the spot. By proper methods the cīta was brought out from the hole and made over to the skilful in the business. On this occasion news was brought that a powerful cīta had fallen into a hole in the neighbourhood of Gwālyār. On the day of Ormazd the 1st Āẕar, Divine month, corresponding to Sunday 4 Jamāda-al-ākhir, he mounted his horse and proceeded towards Gwālyār. When he came to the hole he himself bound the cīta and took it out. Just then the news came that in the holy harem a daughter had been born on the day of Dībāẕar 8 Āẕar, Divine month, corresponding to Sunday 11 Jamāda-al-ākhir, 21 November 1569. He gave to that auspicious arrival the name of Khānam,² and ordered rejoicings. It is hoped that the notes of auspiciousness in her will increase day by day and that she will be a cause of increased life and fortune to the lord of the world. After some days when high and low had been delighted with the hunting, he returned to the capital. When the holy cortège reached Agra it was reported that Deo Sulṭān, the son of Darbār Khān, who was like a dīv (deo) or a wild animal for bloodshed and strife, and was always a receptacle of turbulence and dissension, and would not listen to advice, was lying in wait in his father's tomb, where H.M. would pass, and was armed and indulging in evil designs. In accordance with orders he was arrested there and made over to Jagmal³ Panwār. In prison he went to annihilation and mankind was freed from his wickedness. H.M. arrived at Agra in a fortunate hour and established the spiritual and physical throne by justice and equity, and spent his time in administration.

As the holy understanding of the King desires inspiration from saints, he, at the time when he was seeking for a son, had made a vow to his God that if this blessing should be attained, he would perform an act of thanksgiving which should be personal to himself, viz., that he would walk from Agra to the shrine of Khwāja M'uīnu-d-dīn Cistī, and there pay his devotions to God. It was settled in Rajab¹ (the 7th month), which was the month of the saint's anniversary, ('uras) that this intention should be carried into practice. When such a night-gleaming jewel of the casket of the Caliphate arrived at the shore of hope, he recognised his obligation and set out on foot from Agra on the day of Ābān 10 Bahman, Divine month, corresponding to Friday 12 Shābān (the 8th month), 20 January, 1570, and traversed stages and deserts. Each day he journeyed ten or twelve kos, less or more.

The following is the list of the stages² of the journey from Agra:—

1. Mandhākar.
2. Fathḥpūr.
3. Passed Khānwa and halted near Jūna.
4. Karoha.
5. Basāwar.
6. Toda.

7. Kalāwalī.
8. Khārandī.
9. Dīsa.
10. Passed Hansmaḥal and encamped near Phūlmaḥal.
11. Sāngānīr.
12. Near Neota.
13. Jhāk near M'uizzābād (Jarrett II. 273).
14. Sākhūn.¹
15. Kajbīl.
16. The holy dwelling of the Khwāja in Ajmīr.

Then he straightway went to the shrine and placed the forehead of sincerity on that spot and implored help. He spent several days there in devotion and good works. He distributed gifts among the attendants of the shrine. As on the occasion of the division of the gifts, which came to a large amount, those who claimed to be descendants of the Khwāja, and who had the superintendence of the shrine— their cheif was Shaikh² Ḥusain—took possession of the whole of the money, and there were disputes and quarrels between him (Shaikh Ḥusain) and the attendants on the shrine, and there was the allegation that the Shaikhs who had charge of the shrine had told falsehoods with regard to their descent, and as this dispute had gone on a long time, H.M. appointed trustworthy persons to inquire into the matter and to report thereon. After much investigation it was found that the claim of sonship was not genuine. Accordingly the charge of the shrine was made over to Shaikh Muḥammad Bukhārī, who was distinguished among the Saiyids of Hindustan for knowledge and fidelity. H.M. also arranged for the management of the shrine, and for the treatment of pilgrims and for the erection of mosques and khānqās in the territory. In fine, after having made over the presents he set out on his return, and proceeded to visit the shrines of the saints of Delhi. He went there, and in Isfandārmaẕ, Divine month, corresponding to Ramzān, February-March, 1570, he arrived at Delhi. He spent some days in that pleasant spot, in visiting the shrines and in the administration of justice, and gladdened the hearts of friends and strangers.

During this gracious time that the Shāhinshāh's cortège was gathering hidden light in Delhi, the vivifying spring arrived, and the bounteous New Year removed the veil from her face. A temperate breeze breathed a fresh soul into the body of the earth. The power of vegetation developed the new comers of the vegetable kingdom. The morning gales, like the breaths of the enlightened of heart, opened the knots of souls. The spring-clouds, like the bosoms of the noble and liberal, exuded abundance and laid the dust of lives.

What flowers expanded, and what birds sang!
So that the soul ran to the eye, and a vision came to the ear
I'm like the bird captivated by the presence of the rose
Sometimes I faint, and sometimes sense returns
What need is there of a message to the companions of the garden
When Time is calling out with a thousand tongues.

With auspicious lights the world-adorning Sulṭān of the east (the sun) cast the shadow of his entry into the mansion of Aries after the passing of two hours and twenty-three minutes of Saturday, 3 Shawwāl 977, 11 March, 1570, and the 15th Divine year from the Accession, viz., the year Khirdād of the second cycle began. Fortune's market again became brisk. In this spring-time H.M., in gratitude and thanksgiving, visited the stations and buildings which right-thinking princes had erected in former times, and received instructive warning thereby. He scattered gold among the humble dwellers in those ruins. He then visited the tomb¹ of H.M. Jahānbānī, Jinnat-Āshiyānī, which is the altar of pure spirits and bodies, and implored political and spiritual light. From here he proceeded towards Agra and crossed the Jamna. He passed through villages and several times took the pleasure of deer-hunting by moonlight. He went from stage to stage in enjoyment, and at length on the day of Bād, 22 Ardībihisht, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday, 26 Ẕīlq'ada, 2 May 1570, he arrived at Agra. The people of the city rejoiced. In the beginning of this year Shujā'at Khān, who was one of the great officers, and a favourite, invited the Shāhinshāh to a feast. As H.M.'s disposition was to favour his servants and grant their desires, he accepted, and in an auspicious hour made his dwelling brilliant. He proffered the prostrations of loyalty and made special exertions for H.M.'s entertainment. A magnificent feast was arranged, and H.M. spent one night and one day in that assemblage, and enjoyed spiritual and physical pleasures, and behaved with kindness and benevolence.

Inasmuch as the celestial fathers and the terrestrial mothers engage in making the Shāhinshāh successful, every spring a fresh flower blooms in the garden of fortune, and in every cycle an auspicious star emerges from the horizon of the Caliphate. When the Shāhinshāh, who is the progenitor of dominion and fortune, wished for noble children, the incomparable Deity displayed special liberality in granting this boon, and this daily-increasing favour, which is the great gift of heaven, came, one after another, as an adornment of H.M. New and powerful aids, which could succour sovereignty and buttress the Caliphate, arose, and showed to the four pillars of the world, and the six sides of the universe that God had granted to the Shāhinshāh the kingdoms of fortune together with all blessings and boons because he had no equal or similar among the sovereigns for dispositions and qualities and for devotion to what is right and for Divine worship. Among these blessings was this, that in this fortunate year, after the passing of fifty-two seconds (pul) of the night of Asmān, the 27th Khirdād, Divine month, Thursday, 3 Muḥarram 978, 7 June 1570, 29 Khirdād, of 1881, 492 Jalālī Malikī, corresponding¹ to 17 Ābān 939 of Yezdijird, 8 Ḥazīrān 1881 Rūmī, under Capricorn according to the Greek philosophers, and Sagittarius, according to the Indian sages, a noble son, in whose forehead the lights of high fortune were visible, appeared in the fortunate quarters of Shaikh Selīm in Fatḥpūr. A new rose of the Caliphate bloomed. In a fortunate hour the name of that fortunate prince was inscribed in fortune's page as Shāh Murād. In rejoicing for the rising of this star of fortune, great feasts were held, and largesses bestowed. The skirt of time was made heavy with the coin of success (murād).

From the joy which came to the age
There was a new market-day for delight
Spring came beating her foot in joy
Sweeping the ground with the breeze of morn
Joy upon joy was added to heaven
The world struck coins¹ of light upon light
The morning broke out into congratulations
For the box-tree² sprang from the jasmine-bosom
The spring of rejoicing had honour (ābrū)
For it received water (āb) from the fountain of wish
Hope drank water from the seven seas
For the lock of the jewel-treasury was being turned³
The shedding of 'atar o'erwhelmed the senses
Joy leapt forth and pleasure became intoxicated.

Encomiasts composed verses and chronograms for this birth, and received rewards. A horoscope⁴ was made according to Greek methods, and another according to Indian rules. For the sake of offering congratulations and for disposing of the affairs of the eastern provinces Mun'im Khān Khān-Khānān came post from Jaunpūr and had the bliss of doing homage.

As in the end of the days of spring, while yet the fragrant breezes were playing round the collar of Time, and the garden-zephyrs hung from the skirt of the sphere, a new rosebush bloomed in the home-garden of the Sultanate, and a fresh cypress sprang forth from the spring time of the Caliphate, the Shāhinshāh determined that in gratitude for this great boon he would visit the holy shrine of Khwāja-Munina-d-dīn, may his grave be holy! On the day of Ābān 10 Mihr, Divine month, corresponding to Saturday, 22 Rabī'-as-sānī, 23 Sept., 1570, he set out with the intention of obtaining this blessing, and halted at the village of Mandhākar. There Mun'im Khān Khān-Khānān obtained leave for the sake of disposing of the affairs of the eastern provinces. The noble Khedive proceeded from that stage to Ajmīr in enjoyment of various pleasures, and especially of that of the chase. When Ajmīr had received light from the shadow of the Shāhinshāh's umbrella of fortune, he spent some days in devotion at the shrine and distributed gifts among the attendants thereon. So liberal were the bounties that no single individual was excluded from the feast of good things.

At this same auspicious time an order was issued for repairing and enlarging the fort of Ajmīr. Accordingly able architects laid deep foundations and in an auspicious hour began to construct that noble building with stone and lime. All the mansions, and all the abodes of high and low were included within the area, and in a short space of time much work was done, and praise was given by the Shāhinshāh. Towards the east of the city, halls of state were erected. In the course of three years all the buildings of the fort, and the Shāhinshāh's mansions were completed, and in the following year they were made places of light by his advent. Similarly, all the nobles and officers made, in accordance with orders, suitable dwellings and gardens. By the blessing of the noble advent such a grand city arose in a short space of time as could not be seen in the imaginative mirrors of magical geometricians. After the Shāhinshāh had laid the foundation of those buildings, he for political reasons, and for subduing oppressors, etc., etc., and under the veil of indulging in hunting, proceeded on the day of Rām, 21 Ābān, Divine month, corresponding to Friday, 4 Jamāda-al-ākhirī, 3 November, 1570, towards Nagor.¹ On the day of Ardībihisht, 3 Āẕar, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday, 16 Jamāda-ala-ākhirī, he halted at that city. Khān Kilān, the governor of that province, recognised the advent of the Shāhinshāh as a great happiness and arranged a feast. H.M. honoured his house with a visit, and poured into the lap of his wishes eternal glory.

At the same time the glance of H.M. fell upon a tank. Several of the nobles of the city, who had come out to welcome him, represented that the prosperity of the city was bound up with three² tanks. One was called Kaidānī, another was the Shams Talao, and this one which was known as the Kūkur Talao. As by lapse of time much of it had been filled up with earth, many of the inhabitants had on account of want of water left their houses and gone elsewhere. For the public benefit, an order was given for digging out the Kūkur Talao, which was very extensive, and able Bakhshīs made measurements and divided the work among officers. By a little attention on the part of his ocean-like mind that mirage became a sea such as could water a vast camp. To this fountain of sweet waters the name Shukr Talao was given. The origin of the first name was that Kūkur means in the Hindi tongue a dog, and the name of the tank had reference thereto. The story told was that a merchant, owing to embarrassed circumstances, deposited his dog, which was an embodiment of sense, with a rich man and went off to a far country in order that he might seek fortune. He spent a long time in doing so. One day the dog from its gentleness set off on the road, and by a beautiful coincidence the merchant had gained his object, and came there. The dog learnt this and came fawning to his master's feet, and from excess of joy gave up his life. He became famed for his fidelity, and the merchant, in gratitude, made a tank there and named it after the circumstance.

When the sublime cortège of the Shāhinshāh came to this part of the country to put things in order and administer justice, the great men and the landholders hastened to do homage. Among them was Cander Sen, the son of Māldeo, who is one of the great zamindārs of India. He was received with royal favours. Also Rai Kalyān Mal Rai of Bikānīr came with his son, Rai Rai Singh, and had the bliss of a reception. In his good fortune he represented through those who had access to H.M. that his wish was that his brother Kahān's daughter might be included among the inmates of H.M.'s harem. The Khedive accepted his proposal, and that occupant of the howdah of chastity was brought within the screens of purity.

One of the joyful occurrences was that Bāz Bahādur hastened to the summit of fortune and paid his homage. By the kindnesses of the Shāhinshāh he came out of the dust of loss and obtained a ray of auspiciouness, or rather he had a new birth. His honour had declined since he left Malwa, turning his face from fortune, and for a while he went from door to door. First, he went to Baharjī, zamindar of Baglāna. From there he went to Cingīz Khān, and after that he joined Sher Khān Fulādī. From him he went to Niẓāmu-l-mulk of the Deccan, but everywhere he met with loss, and then he took refuge with the Rānā. When the Shāhinshāh heard of the misfortunes and wretchedness of this man, who had been debauched by the world's wine, his innate kindness moved him to send one of his servants to summon him to court. Accordingly Ḥasan Khān Khazāncī was appointed to this service. He made him hopeful of the royal favour and brought him to court, and there he was encompassed with princely favours.

One of the occurrences was that one of the empowered of the holy assembly represented to H.M. that Rāwal Har Rai, the ruler of Jaisalmir, had secretly bound the saddle-straps of desire on the waist of his soul and was desirous that his daughter, who was a chaste, secluded one, might be exalted by being included among his female servants. But as, on account of impediments, he could not personally come to court, he begged that one of the courtiers might be deputed to come to his country and to give him the news of a favourable acceptance, and might convey that secluded one to court. As H.M.'s habit was to grant the requests of the needy and to loose those who were bound by distress, he accepted the petition, and Rajah Bhagwant Dās, who was favoured as one of the firm-footed of loyalty's banquet, was despatched on this service. He completed it at the time of H.M.'s return (from Nāgor), and that holy and happy-starred lady obtained eternal glory by entering the female apartments. When H. M. had disposed of that country's affairs, his devotion induced him to visit the shrine of Shaikh Farīd Shakarganj, which is in Pattan in the Panjab. He gave permission to Ṣādiq Khān, Beg Nūrīn Khān¹ and many other servants to remain in the country, and went off to Pattan.

The Shaikh was one of the ascetics of the age, and one of the chosen combatants of sensuality. They say that he was descended from Farrukh Shāh Kabulī who was commonly called King of Kabul (Shāh-i-Kābul). In the time of the Great Khān and sublime Qā'ān Cingīz Khān, one of his (Shaikh Farīd's) grandfathers, Qāẓī Sh'aīb by name, came to Lahore and settled in the town of Qaṣūr. Sulṭān Balban regarded his advent as a great honour and treated him with reverence. The Shaikh (Farīd) went to Multan and applied himself to the study of the sciences which were current in India. Khwāja Quṭbu-d-dīn Ūshī,² the successor of Khwāja M'uīnu-d-dīn, and who had turned his attention from penmanship³ to the sacred writings, and from the picture to the Painter, took notice of him, and gave him valuable counsels about contemning routine-sciences, and devoting himself to real knowledge, and so led him into the Way. The torch of search was kindled, and the flames of zeal were lighted. He withdrew from all other things and gave his heart to the service of the Khwāja. By his devotion and long service he became an exhibitor of wondrous miracles, and a station of marvels.¹

The prince of theosophists proceeded towards his goal. In appearance his mind was taken up with the pleasure of hunting; inwardly, there was in his heart the longing to know God. On the way a strange¹ thing occurred on the borders of Rai 'Alā'ū-d-dīn's Talondi² near the Sutlej, which is there called the Harhārī. The brief account of this is that the scouts reported that there was a herd of wild asses (gorkhar). The sovereign proceeded to hunt them, attended by three or four special huntsmen. When he came near the plain he dismounted and proceeded on foot. At the first shot he hit an ass, and the rest of the herd fled far away at the report of the gun. That Divine world-hero took his piece in his hand and proceeded rapidly on foot over the burning sand, attended by the same three or four huntsmen. He soon traversed the plain and came up with the herd and killed one after the other with his gun. He continued to follow them up, and on that day he shot thirteen wild asses. Whenever he killed one the others went further off than at first. At this time he became consumed by thirst. There was no sign of water. As he had decided to follow the prey on foot, those attached to the hunt thought that H.M. was near at hand, and so kept in view the place where the game was and did not leave their place.³ When the lord of the world had traversed some kos, his attendants, though they searched, could get no news of the water-carriers, nor any trace of water. A strange condition supervened, and the weakness from thirst increased to such a degree that he lost the power of speech. At this time, when the courage of the loyal was turning to water, mystic guides led the special water-bearers through the boundless desert. Thanksgiving was offered to God, and the hearts of the loyal were rejoiced. It appears that a Divine message impressed itself by a mystic tongue on the heart of H.M. that he should consider his own holy person and be more careful in guarding it, for in reality that was the watching over mankind at large, or rather it was the returning of thanks for Divine favours, and the preserving of the Divine gifts.

In the beginning of your thoughts, think of the end
Do not sport with your life.

One of the occurrences was that Jalāl, the zamindar of Bhimbar, (in Kashmīr) destroyed by wickedness Qabūl Khān.² The latter had put down by the sword the disaffected persons in that country. The zamindar craftily represented himself as a well-wisher, and the simple-minded Turk, without proper examination of the matter, and without studying the lines of his forehead, was led away merely by his plausible, gold-incrusted speeches. In accordance with the recommendations of this zamindar he sent away his soldiers to distant places, and his son, Yādgār Ḥusain, went off to the borders of Naushahra. Though far-seeing and right-seeing men said that he should not separate all his men from himself, yet as the thing was predestined, their remonstrances were of no avail. (The zamindar) led his son away from Naushahra into the defiles, and the heads of the passes having been occupied by the enemy, many of his men were killed. Yādgār Ḥusain was wounded and was reckoned among the dead. A zamindar behaved kindly and sheltered him. At the same time that these men were caught in this evil, Jalāl fell upon Qabūl Khān. He from the courage which he had, and the skill which he had not, did not regard the plurality of the enemy and the paucity of his own men, and on the day of Rām, 21 Bahman, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday, 5 Ramẓān (31 January, 1571) came out of his place and fell valiantly. When H.M. heard of this he issued orders to Khān Jahān to apply himself to the extirpation of those evildoers, and to gather an army of brave and experienced men. In accordance with orders a select body of men hastened to that country and exerted themselves to destroy those presumptuous evil-doers. They cleansed that land of roses from the weeds and rubbish of the seditious.

The cavalcade of spring arrived at this auspicious time, and the news of growth was communicated to all, and bodies and souls received fresh bounty. The disposition of the age expanded, the world became equable. The bounteous clouds, like the eyes of those that long, dissolved into rain. The beautiful fountains got into commotion, like the hearts of saints. Verdure spread an odoriferous carpet. The parterre waved with fragrant streamers. The emerald buds put forth flowers of red coral.

The clouds came with world-kindling lightning
Water came up to the waist of vegetation
The cypress showed the standard of Kāūs
The tulip brought the diadem of Darius
The rose kindled a sulphur-flame¹ in the garden
The water glided like quicksilver.

After eight hours and twelve minutes had elapsed of Sunday 14 Shawwāl 978, 13 March 1571, the Illuminator of time and the terrene cast his ray on the mansion of Aries, and made the earth fresh as the mind of the Shāhinshāh. The atmosphere became aromatic like the delicious nature of the world's lord, and the 16th Divine year from the Accession, viz., the year Tīr of the second cycle, began. In the commencement of this auspicious year H.M. was encamped at Pattan.² The God-worshipping Khedive visited the shrine of Shaikh Farīd and implored strength. Those associated with that warrior against sensuality, and the inhabitants of those environs of the sciences of beauty and excellence, received advancement. He halted for some days in this town for the sake of spiritual and physical benefits. A thing which pleased him here was the spectacle of fishing. The fishermen here dive and catch the fish with their mouths¹ and hands and also strike them with iron prongs and draw them out of the water.

One of the occurrences was Muḥibb 'Alī Khān (the son of) the Mīr Khalīfa's obtaining permission at the instance of Nāhīd Begam to go and conquer Tatta. The brief account of this is that previous to this, the chaste Nāhīd Begam who was married to Muḥibb 'Alī Khān, had obtained leave to go and visit her mother Ḥājī Begam. Before she arrived, Mīrzā 'Isā had died, and Muḥammad Bāqī had become ruler in his stead. He,² from his want of sense, did not regard the arrival of the Begam as an advantage. On the contrary, he behaved badly to Ḥājī Begam. She was displeased at this, and wicked men of the country, among whom were Khān Bābā and Miskīn Tarkhān, joined with the Begam in trying to lay hold of Muḥammad Bāqī. He got wind of this and endeavoured to extirpate the faction. Khān Bābā and Ḥājī Begam fell into his hands, and he put Khān Bābā to death, and confined Ḥājī Begam till she died. Nāhīd Begam by courage and skill escaped and came to Bakar. Sulṭān Maḥmūd of Bakar proposed to act in harmony with her, and said that if Muḥibb 'Alī Khān and his son Mujāhid Khān came with a small force, he would join them, and that Tatta would be conquered by the imperial servants. The Begam believed his dissembling words and came to court, and begged that the above-named persons might be allowed to go (to Tatta.) As she used much importunity, she got leave and came to Tatta.

Nāhīd Begam was the daughter of Qāsim Khān Koka who in his loyalty devoted himself for H.M. Getī Sitānī Firdūs Makānī. It appears that in the battle with Ubaidullāh Khān there was an apparent¹ want of success, on account of a great work in the future. H.M. Firdūs Makānī fell into the hands of the enemy. The brave and loyal servant came forward and said, “I am the king, why have you seized this servant of mine?” By this act of fidelity the king was saved, and as the enemy put the other to death, H.M. took his family under his protection. Ḥājī Begam, who was the daughter of Muqīm Mīrzā, son of Mīr Zū-l-nūn, married (secondly) Mīrzā Ḥasan,² and afterwards Mīrzā 'Īsā, and her daughter was brought up with princely kindness. She was given in marriage to Muhibb 'Alī Khān (the son of) Khalīfa, who had behaved as a faithful servant.

In fine, when they came near to Bakar, Sulṭān Muḥmūd sent a message to the effect that he had spoken³ hastily and that he could not join them in this enterprise. If they were determined to go to Tatta they should do so by Jaisalmīr. Muḥibb 'Alī Khān was in a difficulty. He could neither turn back, nor had he confidence in going forward. As he had auspiciousness in his disposition, and was comforted by the help of so great a support (as Akbar) he resolved upon attacking Bakar and on fighting with Sulṭān Maḥmūd. The two armies met near the fort of Matila.⁴ What kinds of two armies were there? Muḥibb 'Alī Khān and Mujahid Khān had not more than 200 men with them, and Sulṭān Maḥmūd had sent 2,000! By the help of God, who looks after the affairs of those connected with the eternal dominion, this small force was victorious after a hot engagement. The other side fled and took refuge in the fort. The gallant victors set themselves to besiege it, and the garrison applied for quarter and came out. When the fort was taken and they had acquired confidence they girt up their loins for the conquest of Bakar. The fortune of the Shāhinshāh brought division among the enemy, and Mubārak Khān,¹ Sulṭān Maḥmud's khāṣa khel, and who was his factotum, came and joined Muḥibb 'Alī Khān with 1,500 men. The ostensible reason for this was that the wicked ones of that country had caused his son Beg Ōghlī to be suspected of intimacy with one of Sulṭān Mahmūd's women. Hence the simpleton (S. Maḥmūd) was, without making inquiry, endeavouring to extirpate his family. He (Mubārak) was not candid. He was suspicious about his treatment and was searching for an opportunity of separating himself (from Muḥibb). Muḥibb 'Alī Khān longed for his possessions and put him to death. He conciliated his men (by bribes)—who were like dogs and flies—and engaged in the siege of Bakar. Merely through his connection with daily-increasing fortune this fort was captured, as will be told in its proper place.²

As the health of Prince Shāh Murād was a little off the path of equability, H.M. stayed some days in that city (Pākpattan). When the prince recovered, the drum of return was beat high on the day of Khirdād 6 Ardībihisht, Divine month, corresponding to Monday 20 Zūlq'ada, 16 April 1571. Every day there was hunting. Worship was performed under the veil of pleasure. One day the huntsmen reported that there were several cītahs, and the Shāhinshāh went in quest of them. Six ³ cītahs were caught that day in a kheda, and among them was Madan Kalī who became the head of the Shāhinshāh's cītahs. When the standards of fortune reached Dībālpūr, Khān 'Aẓim Mīrzā Koka, who held this district in fief, begged that H.M. would visit him. H.M. conceded his request and visited his quarters. He exerted himself in preparing a feast and in tendering presents. As a right disposition adorned his loyalty, and as he knew that for an intelligent servant to give a feast is to return a little of what has been bestowed on him, he made this an acceptable entertainment. Moẓaffar Ḥusain, who was in the Mīrzā's service, made this hemistich as a chronogram of the event. “The Shāh and Shāhzāda were guests of 'Azīz (978).” H.M. went on from there, and hunting and administering justice, he arrived at Lahore on the day of Khirdād 6 Khirdād, Divine month, corresponding to Thursday 22 Ẓīl ḥajja, 17 May 1571. Ḥusain Qulī Khān performed the rites of service and loyalty, and at his petition H.M. visited his quarters which had been newly prepared, and so he received everlasting honour. When the affairs of this country had been disposed of under the guise of progresses and hunting, H.M. desired to go by way of Ḥiṣār in order that he might make that province an alighting-place of illuminations. He also wished to visit¹ the shrine of M'uīnu-d-dīn (Cistī). Accordingly he in the end of Khirdād, Divine month?? corresponding to 1 Muḥarram 979, proceeded to that district, and on the day of Māh 12 Tīr, Divine month, corresponding to Sunday 1 Ṣafr, encamped at Hiṣār Fīrūza.

One of the occurrences was that the justice of the Shāhinshāh inflicted punishment on Lashkar Khān. Though he held the offices of Mīr Bakhshī and Mīr 'Arẓī, etc., the just prince did not refrain from this. The brief account of this instructive affair is as follows: The world's intoxication made Lashkar Khān leave the path of moderation, and made him become the author of improper acts. In his folly he came in open day drunk to that sublime court which is the asylum of the wise of the seven climes, and made a disturbance.² When the truth of the case came to the hearing of H.M. he, for the sake of instruction to him, and warning to others, caused him to be led round, tied to a horse's tail. He then sent him to prison. He cast a glance of patronage on Shahbāz Khān, and made over Lashkar Khān's offices to him. As there are degrees of the Shāhinshāh's patronage, that one, who was imprisoned on account of his own acts in Fatḥpūr, obtained his release at the intercession of favourites. The Khedive of the world, although it was the rainy season, marched every day in the discharge of his kingly duties, and, hunting on the way, arrived at Ajmīr. On the day of Rash 11 Amardād, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday 1 Rabī-al-awwāl, 21 July 1571, he alighted at the delightful place, and visited the shrine of M'uīnu-d-dīn, and implored strength. He worshipped his God, and united supplication with exaltation. When the stewards of fate and destiny desire to make a happy-starred one's outward and inward dominion increase daily, they restrain him from the heights of saintship. His thirst for pleasing God increases, and from excessive capacity and abundance of spiritual thirst the ocean round him appears as a mirage and he searches for the fountain-head of purpose. With this view a new stage of holiness is continually brought before him. Such is the condition of our Lord of the Age. After paying the dues of justice and after satisfying the desires of those attached to the shrine, he proceeded towards the capital. On the day of Āsmān 27 Amardād, Divine month, corresponding to Thursday 17 Rabi'-al awwal, he alighted at Fatḥpūr. He took up his quarters in the lodging of Shaikh Selīm. The grades of men who had been oppressed and were waiting to do homage obtained happiness.

Among the dominion-increasing events was the making of Sīkrī, which was a dependency of Bīāna, into a great city. As the Khedive of the world is an architect of the spiritual and physical world, and is continually engaged in elevating the grades of mankind, and making strong the foundations of justice, and causes the longing ones of the age to be successful, so also does he strive for increasing the glory of the earth, and cherishes every place in accordance with its condition. Inasmuch as his exalted sons had taken their birth in Sīkrī and the God-knowing spirit of Shaikh Selīm had taken possession thereof, his holy heart desired to give outward splendour to this spot which possessed spiritual grandeur. Now that his standards had arrived at this place, his former design was pressed forward, and an order was issued that the superintendents of affairs should erect lofty buildings for the special use of the Shāhinshāh. All the grades of officers, and the public generally made dwellings for themselves, and a high wall of stone and lime (ḥiṣār) was placed round the place. In a short time there was a great city, and there were charming palaces. Benevolent institutions, such as khānqās, schools and baths, were also constructed, and a large stone bazaar was built. Beautiful gardens were made in the vicinity. A great place of concourse was brought together such as might move the envy of the world. H.M. gave it the name of Fatḥābād, and this by common use was made into Fatḥpūr.

One of the occurrences was that Moẓaffar Khān conceived the lofty wish of entertaining H.M. the Shāhinshāh in his quarters which had been recently constructed and were the admiration of the critical. When this request was made known to H.M. he accepted the proposal, and on the day of Dībādīn 23 Dai, Divine month, proceeded from Fatḥpūr to Agra the capital. His quarters were spiritually and physically illuminated by the advent of H.M. Gifts were presented, and there was great rejoicing. From there he returned to Fatḥpūr. The wishers of the seven climes attended and obtained their desires without the intervention of anyone. God be praised for that the farseeingness and profundity of the sublime Khedive suppresses the market of the evil and covetous! This evil tribe descends into the abyss of discredit, and the crew who make a way for themselves by a wheedling tongue, do not get an opportunity of speaking. Nay even these good men, who solely for the public advantage recommend men of merit, are rendered unnecessary by the abundant personal attention of the Shāhinshāh. From the ample illumination of his soul he shuts up the petty stalls of the hypocrites and the dissemblers. How shall I describe how that tribe learns its evil doings by the light of the torch of instruction and comes into the ranks of the good, and how the grades of humanity, high and low, come to their level and pray for the permanence of daily-increas-ing dominion? The wise prince from his wide capacity and extensive knowledge treats every one according to his position and makes outward sovereignty consonant with spiritual sanctity.

Indispensable as life, desire-granting as intellect
Successful as fate, powerful as destiny.

In this auspicious time when the age had increase of spirituality, physical growth also took place. The pageant of spring's cavalcade rubbed the rust off the mirror of time and the terrene. The world-illuminating New Year gave equability to night and day. The bounty of spring circulated in the veins and fibres of life. The morning breezes associated with the spirits of vegetation. The canopy of the rainy clouds was drawn together from the four quarters by the ropes of the swift winds. The army of odoriferous plants speedily arrived, and received splendour on the banks of the streams of abundance. The gales of the rose-garden produced intoxication in the mind. The twittering of the birds of the parterres struck the ears with silken bows and so unclosed them!

The ravishing breeze of the dawn began to blow,
The lips¹ of the buds sucked the morning
The quaffers of morning-draughts formed a circle
The longers for sweets drained their glasses
The fragrance of the rose made the rose-garden uneasy
The nightingale was aroused by the perfume
The hyacinth shook in every curl
The narcissus glorified bed on bed
The fragrance of the rose stirred up a hundred parterres
The wine-cellar was poured into the mouth of the cup
Love's drunkards were in every tavern
Love's hands were in circle upon circle.

The polisher of the sky and earth, and the illuminator of heights and hollows, after the passing of two hours and three minutes from the night of Saturday the 25th Shawwāl 979, 11 March 1572, cast the shadow of light upon the mansion of Aries and the 17th year from the holy accession began, to wit, the year Amirdād of the second cycle. It is to be hoped that by the blessing of the Shāhinshāh's justice this cycle may be joined to ages and epochs.

Of the occurrences which marked the beginning of this fortunate year was the bringing to court by Mun'im Khān Khān-Khānān of Sikandar Khān, and the latter's being pardoned for his offences at his request (Mun'im's). It has already been related that Sikandar Khān Uzbeg had from inborn inauspiciousness turned away from the God-given dominion, and that he had leagued himself with the evil-doer 'Alī Qulī Khān and had lifted up the head of sedition. When what was predestined had happened to 'Alī Qulī, and his rebellion had come to an end, Iskandar Khān, from wickedness of disposition and evil fate, joined Sulaimān Afghan. He spent some time in that country. The narrow-minded Afghans did not think his being among them was proper and laid plots against him. He learned their apprehensions and petitioned Mun'im Khān Khān-Khānān. He represented that what had happened to him had been the result of ignorance, and that he was ashamed thereof. The treacherous Afghans had killed Sulaimān Uzbeg, and now they were thinking of killing him. If Mun'im Khān interceded for this wicked and ill-fated man (himself) to the sublime court, it would be granting him life for this world and also eternal life. Mun'im Khān sent his letter along with his own representation to court and requested orders. H.M. in his abundant graciousness sent a favourable order and made him hopeful. The Khān-Khānān, who on account of the greatness of the offences did not expect a forgiveness, made a prostration of thanks for the kindness, and sent for Iskandar Khān. On receiving this good news Sikandar Khān took with him Yūsuf the son of Sulaimān Uzbeg, and came away hastily from the Afghans without informing them. The Khān-Khānan behaved kindly to him and taking these protégés along with him, came to court. In the beginning of Tīr, Divine month, they were received. At Mun'im's intercession the penitents were forgiven, and treated with royal favours. In a short space of time the Khān-Khānan was encompassed with favours, and dismissed to the eastern provinces. Sikandar Khān¹ was granted the Sarkār of Lucknow and sent off with him.

One of the occurrences of this time, which was the spring of fortune and dominion, was that 'Abdullah Khān Uzbeg, the ruler of Tūrān, was induced by the fame and majesty of this sovereignty (Akbar's) to send Ḥājī Altamsh as an ambassador. He brought with him letters of respect and affection, and curiosities of his country. The purport of the letters was to recall ancient relations and to renew friendship, in order that by the help of such Divine glory he might act vigorously against the other princes of Tūrān. Another object was that he might repose in peace and be without apprehension of the strokes of the world-conquering armies. For greater security and success he sent presents to Mun'im Khān Khān-Khānān and the Khān A'aẓim Mīrzā Kokā in order that they might exert themselves to lay the foundations of friendship. The prudent sovereign received the ambassador graciously, and gave him his dismissal after he had discharged his duty. Presents consisting of the rarities of India were sent along with him.

One of the occurrences was the falling out of favour of Moẓaffar Khān. At all times, in spite of the rise of the sun of direction of the Shāhinshāh, an unique veil hung over his world-adorning beauty. At this time he made the game of caupar² the veil of his esoteric beauty and carried on the amusement with keenness. Special rules were framed for the game, in which hundreds of designs were involved, and all the servants of the court were continually present for this business. There were great feasts and entertainments. Though in appearance the market of the play was brisk, yet in reality men were being tested. The lord of wisdom under the guise of sport did serious work and was testing men's qualities. One day Moẓaffar Khān, on account of the intoxication of the world and his small capacity, behaved in a savage and rustic manner in consequence of having lost many games and of having been long in the Presence.¹ H.M. cast him off from the pinnacle of confidence and sent him on pilgrimage in order that by playing the game of unimportance and exile, his unsound condition might be amended.

The pious lord of the world always regards external administration as the decoration of the world of reality, and without any contamination of human desires recognises that his own satisfaction lies in the soothment of mankind. He always perceives what things are most important, and applies himself to the gathering together of the distressed and dispersed ones of the age. In conquering countries and cities his first thought is to inquire into and sympathise with the condition of the oppressed. Hence wherever the rulers act wisely and exert themselves to protect their subjects, he does not set himself to conquer that country though the means for doing so be at hand. And although it is clear to the front of his holy mind—which is truth's arena—that every extension of territory brings the plurality of the world into the majestic uniqueness of one of the sublime administrators of justice, and thus brings the highest form of worship to the bridal-chamber of manifestation, yet as the motive of his genius is the preservation of the general public—who are a wondrous trust from God—he does not address himself to such worship. But as the incomparable Deity is engaged in increasing the dominion and in exalting the foundations on H.M.'s sovereignty, it happens from time to time that He makes a country empty of just rulers, in order that the truthful sovereign may direct his royal attention thereto, and may eradicate it by his justice. So that those burnt up in the desert of misfortune may be cooled by graciousness, and also that compulsory unity, which is the twin of voluntary unity, may take proper shape; and that the torch of loyalty may be kindled even among the superficial, of whom the world is full. For the power of God has established a great gap between the merits of the various sections of mankind. Glory to His Name!¹ One section has, by beholding the brilliant wisdom, the walk and conversation, the giving and forgiving, the winking at men's faults, and the wakeful-heartedness of the Khedive of the age, become his followers and regards him as the Unique one of God's Court. They regard his service as Divine worship and go on augmenting their loyalty and devotion. Another section, whose glance has not fallen on those acts, have come to believe his esoteric greatness from seeing his external grandeur, and the increase in his territories, and have bound the noose of discipleship on the neck of their souls and become of the number of his devoted followers.

Accordingly, at this time, when the kingdom of Delhi was cleared from the dust of fly-like sedition-mongers, and the blind-hearted ones had descended into the abyss of defeat and annihilation, the Shāhinshāh's genius determined upon the conquest of Gujrat, and the amendment of the distractions of that country, for the oppression of the subjects thereof had reached its climax.

From the time when Sulṭān Maḥmūd had from carelessness taken the smooth-tonguedness of enemies to be friendship, and had died from the evil nature of servants who regarded the loss of their master and benefactor as their gain—as has been briefly noticed¹ in the account of the province of Gujrat—the officers of Gujrat, especially Saiyid Mubārak, 'Itmād Khān, and 'Imād-al-Mulk had looked after their own interests. In order that their power might be real, they had produced one of the sons of Sulṭān Aḥmad and given him a noble name. But when he came to years of discretion they got rid of him, and brought forward a worthless boy named Nannū who was of low origin, and gave him out as a son of Sulṭān Maḥmūd. They gave him the title of Moẓaffar Shāh and pursued their own private advantage. Aḥmadābād, which is the capital of Gujrat, Cambay and much of the country fell into the possession of 'Itmād Khān. Sarkār Patan fell to Mūsa Khān and Sher Khān Fūlādī; Surat, Broach, Baroda, and Cāmpānir to Cingīz Khān, the son of 'Imād-al-Mulk; Dandūqa and Dūlqa, etc., came to Saiyid Ḥāmid, the grandson of Saiyid Mubārak; Jūnagarh and the district of Sorath to Amīn Khān Ghori. 'Itmād Khān craftily kept that low-born child in his own presence, and so passed his days, while the country was, owing to the prevalence of embezzlers, the scene of various oppressions, and heedless heads strove with one another. Meanwhile, when Cingīz Khān died, Nannū, at the instigation of Shēr Khān Fulādi, fled from Aḥmadābād and came to Patan. Sher Khān Fūlādī and a number of vagabonds got together an army for the taking of Aḥmadābād. 'Itmād Khān shut himself up in Aḥmadābād and asked the help of the Mīrzās. Strife rose high, and the market of contention became brisk. The holy heart of the Shāhinshāh recognised that the taking of Gujrat was the most important matter, and applied himself to making preparations for this. Mīrzā Yūsuf Khān, Fattū, Rajah Bīrbar and a large force were sent to the Panjab to help Ḥusain Qulī Khān lest Ḥakīm Mirzā should at the instigation of short-sighted men, and from thinking that the imperial army was at a distance, allow seditious thoughts to occupy his brain. An order was issued to Ḥusain Qulī Khān that he should annex Nagarkot and make it over to Rajah Bīrbar, as Rajah Badh Cand, the zamindar thereof, had been convicted of bad service and evil intentions. If his people should regard the strength of the fort as materials for presumption, he was to besiege it with a large force and capture it. Similarly prudent men were despatched to every quarter, and on the day of Bahram 20 Tīr, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday, 20 Ṣafar, 4 July 1572, H.M. marched out from Fatḥpūr to conquer Gujrat, and halted at Dābar.

One of the acts of justice which were performed at this time was the punishment of Bābā Khān Qāqshāl. The brief account of this act of justice is as follows. Shahbāz Khān was the Amīr-Tūzak, and was engaged in arranging the procession. That ignorant Turk behaved presumptuously and was rude to Shahbāz Khān. When it was reported to the adorner of the rose-garden of the Caliphate, he ordered him to be severely¹ punished as a lesson to himself and as a means of amending other transgressors. Thus, by a single advertence of the Shāhinshāh was a matter appertaining to a large army, and for which many experienced¹ administrators would have found it difficult to make proper regulation, disposed of with ease.

One of the joyful occurrences was that at the time when the army was encamped at Sangānīr, H.M., according to custom, engaged in hunting. He was at this time much devoted to hunting with cītas' and after assigning cītas to numerous parties he went off himself with some special attendants. It chanced that they loosed a special cita (cīta-i-khāṣ) called Citr Najan at a deer.² Suddenly there appeared in front of them a ravine which was twenty-five yards broad. The deer leapt into the air to the height of a spear and a half and conveyed itself across. The cīta in its eagerness took the same course, cleared the ravine and seized the deer. On beholding this astonishing occurrence the spectators raised a cry of amazement and there was great rejoicing and astonishment. The Khedive raised the rank of that cīta and made him chief of the cītas. He also ordered that as a special honour, and as a pleasure to men, a drum should be beaten in front of that cīta. On the day of Gosh³ 14 Amirdād, Divine month, corresponding to Saturday, 15 Rabī'-al-awwal, 26 July 1572, he according to custom went one stage to Ajmīr on foot and proceeded to circumambulate the shrine of M'uīnu-d-dīn. On the way the scouts reported that there was a powerful tiger there that always lay in wait for travellers and killed them. Inasmuch as the extirpation of causers of evil is one of the duties of sovereignty, the prince went forward to destroy him. He did so, and then went on to that delightful spot. The advent of the Shāhinshāh produced fresh joy, and the rites of supplication and circumambulation were performed. The river of bounty overflowed, and the grades of mankind shared in great gifts. Next day he proceeded to inspect the fort⁴ of Ajmīr, which is on the summit of a hill. In that lofty place he visited the shrine of Saiyid Ḥusain Khang-suwār, who is commonly said to be a descendant of Zainu-l-abadīn. But by investigation it appears that the Saiyid was a servant of Shihābu-d-dīn Ghorī, and that at the time when he returned from the conquest of India he made him Shiqdār of Ajmīr. There he died. From lapse of time and general assent he became famous as a saint, and his tomb became the circumambulation-place of mankind. As H.M. the Shāhinshāh was always a painful seeker, he took into consideration the popular report and implored his aid. On the day of Rūz¹ 7 Amirdād, Divine month, corresponding to Tuesday, 2 Rabī'-aṯ-ṯānī, 12 August 1572, the Khān Kilān was sent off to Gujrat as an advance-guard along with many officers such as Ashraf Khān, Shāh Qulī Khān Maḥram, Shāh Budāgh Khān, Saiyid Maḥmūd Khān, Qulīj Khān, Sādiq Khān, Shāh Fakhru-d-dīn, Ḥaidar Muḥammad Khān Akhta Begī, Saiyid Aḥmad Khān, Qutlaq Qadam Khān, Muḥammad Qulī Khān Tūqbāī, Kharram Khān, Beg Nūrīn Khān, Beg Muḥammad Khān, Muḥammad Qulī Khān, son-in-law of the Khān Kilān, Mihr 'Alī Khān Sildūz, Saiyid 'Abdullah Khān, Mīrzāda 'Alī Khān, and Bahādur Khān. On the day of Farwardīn 19 Shahriyūr, Divine month, corresponding to Monday, 22 Rabī'-aṯ-ṯānī, 1 September 1572, H.M. marched from Ajmīr in order that he might indulge in hunting, and also that the officers sent in advance might the better show their merits, and also that Gujrat might as soon as possible come into the possession of the imperial servants, and that the sufferings of the oppressed ones of that country might be redressed in the best manner. In two stages the army had arrived within two stages of Nāgor when news came of the birth of a noble son, and also that of a victory.

It is not concealed from the hearts which closely scrutinise the established law of the elements and the celestial bodies, or from the acute descriers of the associations of loins and wombs, that as the stewards of things terrestrial and celestial have distinguished the Khedive of the world by daily-increasing fortune, and eternal dominion, and have made him successful in his desires, spiritual and physical, and auspicious as regards the objects of realm and religion, so also have they every morning caused a fresh spring-flower to bloom for him in the gardens of hope, and every evening have made a felicitous star arise from the horizon of his wishes. Inasmuch as the amount of Divine aid in respect of the Shāhinshāh of the universe is beyond human calculation—for Almighty God, after having gathered together all the blessings and glories which are in the hidden stores of the eternal decrees and having placed them in his fortune's bosom, hath attached to his personality many unwished-for great gifts—how could there be room for things which he had wished for, to remain secluded behind the screen of delay? Accordingly as his holy mind was desirous of obedient truth-seeking, truth-recognising children, Almighty God bestowed on him this favour without limitation and this blessing without cessation, which is styled “the creation of copies,”¹ and from time to time makes a priceless pearl of the secret ocean glorious on the shore of manifestation.

At the time that the sublime cortège was proceeding from Ajmīr, one of the secluded ones of the screen of chastity had come near the time of child-birth and was unable to endure movement or a journey. In searching for an auspicious place the house of Daniel¹ —a follower of the illustrious shrine (or M'uīnu-d-dīn)—was found. It was made empty and the lady was placed there. The cortège of fortune had halted in Phalūdī,² which lies in a desert (ran) belonging to the Sarkār of Nāgaur, when couriers came from Ajmīr and brought the joyful intelligence that after 41 puls of the night of Āsmān, 27 Shahriyūr, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday, 2 Jamāda-al-awal, 9 September 1572, according to visibility³ and to the night of the third according to supreme decree, under the sign of Aries according to the Greek philosophers, and of Pisces according to the Indian sages, the Giver of life and Adorner of the world had, in the blissful land of Ajmīr,⁴ the longitude of which is 111°5', and latitude 26', bestowed on the Shāhinshāh a lofty-starred son. By the emergence of this brilliant star favour had been conferred on souls and on horizons. When the lord of the world heard this news he placed his forehead on the dust of prostration, and returned thanks to God. He recognised in this news the foretidings of incalculable victories, and inaugurated splendid feasts. The people received fresh joy by general gifts, and the coin of liberality was poured into the lap of the world.

A soul-sustaining rose bloomed in the garden
The fragrance reached a thousand gardens
When the cypress sprang from the noble¹ root
Gratulations were uttered by the seven planets
The Khedive gave fresh wings to joy
He proclaimed a wine-distribution to the seven climes
Rapture was hung on the chords of melody
Song penetrated the brain of the Age
Liberality, when it gave a glance of genius
Removed the curtain from in front of desire.

H.M. had regard to the birthplace which was the house of Shaikh Daniel, and having implored aid from His Highness Daniel the Great (the prophet) gave to that nursling of fortune's rosarium the name of Sulṭān Daniel. Acute poets wrote congratulatory odes, and rare chronograms came from the tongues of the skilful, and were rewarded with gifts. An order was issued that when this celestial star should be a month old, his cradle should be conveyed to the town of Ambēr and the care of him committed to the Rānī, the wife of Rajah Bāra Mal.² It is hoped that this cypress of the Caliphate will for long epochs be watered by the Shāhinshāh's fortune, and will grow up under his shade and protection. Now that the eternal aid has guided me astray in life's assembly to the exposition of the instructive account of H.M. the Shāhinshāh, and makes me more impatient and mobile than my pen, I here insert the horoscope of the happy birth according to Greek and Indian calculations, but leave the extraction of the judgments to the subtle eyes of astronomers.³

In fine, after the completion of thanksgivings for this great boon the Shāhinshāh's cortège continued its march, and on the day of Isfandarmaẕ, 5 Mihr, Divine month, corresponding to Wednesday, 9 Jamāda-al-awwal, 17 September 1572, encamped in the town of Nāgaur.

God be praised! On 7 Ardībihisht of the 41st year of the Divine Era, corresponding to Friday, 27 Sh'abān 1004, 16 April 1596, the noble task of the record of a cycle (qarn) of everlasting dominion and of many marvellous incidents in the fortune of the Lord of the World during thirty years received a happy completion by the strength of a word-weighing intellect and the swiftness of a heavens-like moving pen.

Lamp of six arches, King of nine pavilions
Akbar Shāh, the King of the Age
May fortune's day gain brightness from his face
May the age become a rose-garden from his Spring.

Many great princes have been commemorated as complements to that unique one of creation, and so the garden of history has been watered, and the countenance of life eternal has glorified those who were resting in the sleep of non-existence.

Hundreds of thanks for that this Gallery
Has assumed everlasting decoration
He who is a chief for acuteness
Knows what has been the spiritual outpouring.

Had my confused glance fallen upon myself, I should have seen that I was unfit for this great emprise, and have accepted the words of the sage and turned away from the execution of the great task.

If thou hast not a nature clear as running water
Lay not hands on the record of princes
If the mouth¹ is to remain free of food
'Tis best to leave the table unsupplied.

But the Shāhinshāh's command and the potent magic of loyalty opened my mind's eye to the exhibitions of fortune, and victoriously withdrew me from myself.

The beginning of my education came from Arabic. In Persian I was less versed. The pacings in the alleys of a spiritual Spring, and the contemplation of the house-garden of theoretical and practical wisdom abstracted my attention from all other matters. Especially did I live in alienation from old stories about divs.² Methought it great loss to give up current coin for antiquated bills of credit. An extensive survey showed me that the palace of history was in ruins, and that the ample plain of chronicles could be no arena for Truth's cavaliers, seeing that it did not merit even a glance from exoteric persons who were capable of making a right choice. It is essential that the sons of men should not gratuitously cast away the precious jewels of the spirit, and should keep life's brief tenement in repair by obedience to the wise, and not spend their days in folly, or sell life's precious pearl for worthless potsherds. Cupidinous persons and confused babblers introduced untrue statements for their own ends. They designedly mixed truth with falsehood, and thus incurred the reproach of the enlightened. Unexperienced physicians and quacks who had no proper understanding of goodness or purity fabricated tales of hopes and fears. They supposed the bitter medicaments of falsehood, and a mixture from the poisonous herb of untruth to be a remedy for the chameleon-like spirit, and for the melancholy engendered by opposing humours, and so entered the wide field of error. Many drugged-dreamers¹ and worshippers of fancies took their evil imaginations to be called celestial visitants, and became blatant babblers. From mental confusion and long-continued turmoil of spirit they mixed up presumptuous imaginings with the delightful utterances of Truth. Very many truthful, well-constituted, well-meaning simpletons and writers have given way to dejection (literally, loosed the tress ends of dejection), and, from shortness of view and want of understanding, indulged in foolish discourse, and at the instance of silly persons, who did not know what truth was, brought false tales into vogue. Owing to the lapse of epochs, to the mustiness of records, to wisdom's retiring to a corner, and to the predominance of natural temperament, typhoons of strife were let loose, and floods of evil seethed over. Class upon class of mankind and all sorts of natures heaped up great punishments (for themselves) from the reading of old and erroneous books, and fell into eternal loss. From the dulness of their fortune and the dreaminess of their understandings, they chose, instead of the unique pearl of science, which quiets perturbations, physical and spiritual, and gives light to darknesses external and internal, an injurious intermixture (of truth and falsehood). They covered up the illuminating light with dust and rubbish, and devastated the city of bliss. More extraordinary still! they, while in that burning desert of indiscrimination, where no restful shelter is to be found, are eager to fashion the life-destroying simoom thereof into the material of a refreshing sleep! They go down into the gloomy abode of error, and build joy and sorrow upon miserable dreams.

Alas! How shall one enter a road
Which is a sword-edge, and a track of thorns?
At once wounding the heel and swelling the sole
How can I set foot on a diamond-paved desert.

In the darkness of my heart and perturbation of my mind the star of truth shone out, and my reason's ear was opened by the felicity of my temperament. Celestial reproof struck a blow on my distorted spirit, and admonished me with a tongueless tongue. “Son of Mubārik, to whom has been alloted a select lodging in the honourable mansion of right thinking, what has come into thy head? Why has the eye of fault-finding been unclosed, and how long wilt thou cavil and utter improprieties? How long will the pearl of goodness be covered with the dust of misunderstanding?” As a general rule whoever has not a constructive hand, abuses what he does not understand and stains his heart and tongue with abuse, and takes the road of ignorance, and does not exercise deep discernment. If the brilliancy of story, and the radiance of annals did not exist, where would so many lamps of knowledge be lighted? Or how would the holy seekers after retired wisdom of old times have come down to us. Speech—a painting upon air, and a knotted (articulated) wind—was young in years, and ancient eloquence had not received its acompaniments. In their gratitude for the mighty boon, far-seeing appreciators of work do not give so much as a glance at faults, much less do they speak of such or listen to remarks about them.

Look at perfect love and honesty, not at defects
For whoe'r lacks wit, casts his eye on faults.

Why does the combination of excogitated (m'aqūl) and acquired (manqūl) knowledge remain hidden¹ in thy heart's antechamber—which is a fountain of Divine bounties—and why does thy prudent² soul become dejected and the tongue of chiding be unloosed? Know that high resolves and lofty genius are rare, or rather, non-existent. If all obscure verities had been recorded in the primæval writings, mediæval wayfarers in the fields of inquiry, and laggards in the wilderness of search—of which last the world is full—would not have tasted joy, and writings of the past age would have been consigned to the closet of neglect. Clearly, the wondrous Showman of creation (God) hath introduced such singular combinations, and His magic power hath drawn such charming uncoloured sketches on the wondrous tablet in order that there may be both spots¹ averting the evil eye from the daughters of the houris of the spirit, and chargers for the conveyance of those veiled and mystic beauties.² Chronicles unfold the feasts and the fights (bazm-razm), the strivings and sports, the glooms, and the glories and other things relating to the knowledge of mankind and civilisation, the perspicacities of the wise, the mistakes of the learned, the various ups and downs of the world, the simplicities of the great of the earth, the vain knockings³ at the door of inaccessible Fortune, the empty⁴ satisfactions of many members of the households of Reason and Testimony, and other singularities of the wonderful world. They also record many experiments and lessons in a pleasing and impressive manner. If enlightenment be brought to the task (of chronicle-writing) and regard be had to what is proper, a second life is bestowed on the inquiring and the laborious, such as they died wishing for, and the materials of eternal existence are gathered. Moreover, if the wooers of knowledge (shāhid-i-'urfān) have, from lacking the light of wisdom, not been able to seat⁵ themselves on the genial bride-bed, and if the veiled one of the spiritual bed-chamber has not wholly unveiled her cheek, owing to there being no ray from the night-gleaming jewel (wisdom), yet the controller of Truth (God) has given the means of light by the avenue of the senses. Especially has a profusion of light been admitted by the wicket-gate of the eye, and the lattice of the ear! and this is brightened by the seeing and hearing the vestiges of past generations, whereby an embroidery is furnished to daily-increasing beauty. Moreover, in the spicery of varied traditions there are remedies for melancholy, and medicines for sorrow. Such agreeable electuaries are indispensably necessary in the social state (nishāh-i-t'aalluq).¹

Apparently, my refractoriness was due to my strange soul's being perpetually excited by the thought of liberation. It sought an empty hand and a vacant heart. How could it be satisfied with the mass of story-telling (logography) which is the best thing which worldlings (t'aalluqiyān) have to show. How can perfect Beauty be seen under concrete forms? At the present day when men have been relieved from internal struggles and are proceeding towards the pleasant abode of peace with all, and when they are invited to come out of the stony hollow of formalism to the spacious mansion of Liberty, how will it be surprising if the glad news of Cognition reach my blissful ear, or how will it be strange if my heart cease from its aversion (to the world)?

The truth of the matter is that everything which the heart passes on to the tongue, and the pen transfers to paper, is the offspring of the patriarch (ābū-l-ābāī) Reason, and is the magical work of this wondrous draughtsman. But, by heaven's decree, that refulgent gem of existence became, from companionship with Wrath and Desire, and the embraceries of Heedlessness—which last is the true descendant of those two ogres (ghoul) in the path of bliss—incrusted with ever-during rust, layer upon layer, and the encrustations still remain. As a result of this mischief, a deadly mixture caused under various designations the bewilderment of tranquil hearts, and still does so. The blackness (of the rust) sometimes prevents Truth from being seen, but sometimes it cannot weave a screen against the luminary of intellect, though it make the workman to stumble. Any birth of Reason which has been so far cleansed and scraped that the veiled ones of the sacred chamber can be recognised, and that, owing to the brightness of the jewel and the illumination of the heart, mysteries can be perceived, is termed “Revelation” (makshūf). If the incrustation has come to have the appearance of being the magic offspring of celestial sires,¹ and terrestrial mothers, it is called “in elegant language” a compendium (majmal.) The “Why and the Wherefore” which are part of its properties are regarded as right and are termed in the language of the world “Rational” (maqūl). The rosy fruits of wisdom receive the name of “Acquired” (manqūl) and are cast away with contempt. Alas! where has an atom of contingent (imkān) dust the strength to grasp such matters, or Reason which seeks to serve, the audacity to describe her sovereign's privy-chamber? Such matters are the glorious work of the incomparable Deity, and are the unveiling of the many-coloured countenance of destiny! The wise man perceives that Good and Evil are alike² (barābar), and that “Victorious Evil, i.e., Pure Evil” is impossible (lit. is in the secret chamber of impossibility). The luminary³ of existence which is pure Good, and unmixed light, can only be kept burning by victorious Good.⁴

My troubled and devious heart left off those thoughts, and by a strong bond held back my foolish tongue. To conclude: after long discourse and little result my mind was relieved somewhat from various troubles, and relief came to my straitened capacity. I abandoned my aversion and applied myself to the amendment of mankind. I set my foot resolutely to the task of their spiritual and physical improvement. It seemed to me indispensable that incorrect delineations should be erased. My design was to lay down certain principles which might at the time of question and answer assist both the imparters (lit. sellers) of knowledge, and the seekers thereof. Now when ascetics seek for a chain for the unruly spirit, they begin by collecting the things pertaining to the forge. After that, many shackles are put together which may be fit to control the swift, quicksilver-like spirit, and which may preserve seekers after God who belong to the house of search from daily decrease (in numbers?) and may assist them to strengthen them for the adornments of the deceptive spirit. God-finders¹ (Khudayābān) who are satisfied anyhow, abandon their wrong notions and perceive, after failure, that the sublime threshold of Divinity is too high for the soaring birds of the zenith of contingent existence, and that they cannot flap their wings there. The dealers in the market-places of religions² base their transactions (lit. their profit and loss) upon this fact, and withdrawing from boundless and bottomless bewilderment they cease to stretch their feet beyond the carpet of their capacities, and neither act nor speak foolishly. But from cautiousness and opportunism, which are indispensable for the seekers after happiness, and the active-minded, I say to myself, “Seven thousand years have elapsed during which the turmoil of indiscrimination had gone on increasing, and mischievous ignorance has confused all, high and low. On this day, which is the beginning of a new cycle, is the marvellous Host (God) weaving as of yore various veils, or is He about to remove the screen barring admission, and to guide mankind to Truth's glorious mansion. I long to get a hint of the designs of heaven and earth, and I seek an enlightening explanation from the aspect of the Age.” Suddenly I descry a line of despair on its forehead, and it becomes apparent in perception's foreground that many more revolutions of the juggling heavens are required. After experiencing the waywardness and tardiness of Hope I sate in expectation of that time. Suddenly the light of bliss cast a ray and my heart turned back from foolish ideas. It became clear that the pen of destiny had not decreed that every one should become possessed of the truth, and that I had been made the physician of myself, not of the world. The physician¹ said, “Since silence is hollow, and understanding is, like a madman gnawing at the knocker on the door, intellect, which is termed the key of action, has become the lock on the treasury of truth-seeking and the happiness of every section of mankind is impledged to just thinking² and honest intentions.”

My heart was relieved from the notion of instructing mankind, and I came to think that if genius helped me and time granted me leisure, I would compose a history suitable to the temperament of mortals, and would treat of the mysteries of truth with a cryptic³ tongue. May it be a pendant in the ear of a sage (ṣāḥibdil) and a collyrium for his eyes!

It was long in my thoughts
That by a knowing and thoughtful heart
I might set hidden wisdom in the open field

Might bring precious goods for sale
Might give enlightenment to the heedless
Might revive the position of good will.

At this time, the Great Ruler, the Shāhinshāh of the world, commanded the writing the account of his rule. Wings came to my soul, and strength to my tongue, and in an admirable manner I brought the hidden things of the heart from the soul's ocean to the shore of paper. The duty of obedience was performed, and the thanks due for favours received were in part paid.

Though my desire was always seeking utterance
Yet fulfilment was in pawn to the proper season
May the life-soothing inspiration come soon
So that it may be the adorner of my soul.

Most old authors and many writers of the present day, who all hold the same language, and string their words after one fashion, and display a worn-out embroidery, give all their attention to the ornamentation of words, and regard matter as subservient to them, and so exert themselves in a reverse direction. They consider cadences¹ and decorative style as the constituents of eloquence, and think that prose should be tricked out like the works² of poets. They make the collocation ³ of words, the art of derivations,⁴ the rules of paronomasia,⁵ and homonyms¹ their central point. They expend their talents on quotations (iqtibās), the use of synonyms (istihilāl), allusions,² the invention of enigmas and the reciting of panegyrics³ and genealogies. They think that fantastic embellishments are language's capital and do not look to the weighty matters of eloquence, and the glories of the spirit. A few abandon the old methods when they career in the spiritual arena. These regard minutiae and fantastic notions as the game to be pursued in that region, and consider an involved style, and far-fetched metaphors, which bear upon themselves the marks of the disapproval of good judges, as the ornaments of discourse, and do not discriminate between novel obscurities, out of which they fashion the philosopher's stone of wisdom, and the initial⁴ difficulties of cognition. The general crowd of writers set down nothing but what is true and commonplace, and open the lips of reproach against both the above kinds of obscure diction. By the commands of my heart, the help of my resolution, and the robustness of my good fortune, a new palace has been constructed for composition in this auspicious record (humāyūn nāma), and description has assumed a new gait. The weaving hand of idiosyncrasy has been clasped by the teaching of wisdom and the guidance of choice and brilliant spirits. My jewel has been taken to acute connoisseurs,⁵ and water-drops have moistened the burning hearts of those in the desert of search.

I broke to pieces my talisman
But from each letter I made a new one,

Know that whoever desires to see me
May behold my life's marrow in this roll
If I'm a veiled spirit, this is my body,
If I were Joseph this were his coat.

Meetings were held to praise and to blame (A. F.'s book), and there was a new market-day for approbation and disapprobation. Those who took the path of reflection and did not fall a prey to custom (taqlīd), who opened the seeing eye and exerted themselves (lit. practised sweeping) in searching for heart-touching language and for a heart appreciative of language, and who did not from the pressure of circumstances and the length of time required give way to weariness, received the reward of their labour and exulted in joy. Their congratulations drowned me with the perspiration of modesty. Those who remained in the thornbrake of their nature and who from failure in ability, and from companionship with the faction which had staked their money in the old petty shops, uplifted their heads for disapproval. Incompetent critics underwent the torments of envy, and sate wasting their hearts and their souls. They loosed the tongue of reproof and begrimed with dust the simple-hearted.

I am dust on the path of those jewellers
Who, when they, differing from the malevolent,
Open this day this treasury of jewels
Will open eyes which choose justice.

A certain enlightened man was well-disposed towards me, and used to regard me with friendly eyes. Our conversation turned upon the book, and out of kindness he said to me, “Why do you take such pains (zaḥmat), and why do you write in such a style? Will one out of thousands come into existence who will read this glorious volume aright, and be instructed by the new magic of its method? From whom do you expect the effectual recognition of the Truth? When shall an exalted sage draw the veil from over your work? 'Twere far better to fold away these new-fangled coverlets (table carpets), and to speak in the language of the age, and to spread a plenteous table for the generality!”

My soul was soothed by his appreciation, and I was delighted with his affection. The nobleness of his personality induced me to answer him, and I opened out the casket of truth. “There's ample provision for ordinary guests. I am preparing a dainty morsel for the Unique One of Time. What have I to do with a crowd? Celestial things are glorified by being presented nobly to the king of enlightenment. What connection have they with the common herd?

What business has the kite with the pigeon?
Such game is only for the royal falcon.

The passed¹ master of acute seekers after wisdom was also convinced, and rendered powerful help to my enterprise.

Mankind may be divided into four classes: First—There are the darkened and contumacious who do not listen to reproof (lit. do not make reproof a constituent of their hearing) and do not convey it from the wicket of the ear to the chamber of the heart. Or if it does find its way, it is not accepted. Or if accepted, it is not acted upon. Second—Those ill-conditioned, evil-natured ones who reckon their own ignorance as knowledge, and who are proud of their health when they are suffering from incurable disease. Third— Those seekers after light, and those well-constituted natures who have escaped from the demons-castle of envy and the dark pit (sīyāh cāl) of ignorance, and engage in the pains of Search, but who from perverse fate and their evil star cannot attain to Iofty, spiritual knowledge and to whom the veiled beauties of Wisdom's seraglio but rarely show themselves. Fourth—That illustrious man of a happy star who, along with treasures of knowledge, possesses loftiness of soul and great genius, and who from profundity of perception ever fares forward. He who knows the world chooses naught but silence with respect to the first three, and opens not the casket of speech save to this truth-seeking jeweller (i.e., expert), so that the lamp of knowledge may be kindled, and its radiance may embrace every one!”

“Son¹ of Wisdom, why do you tattle and utter vain things? Since you have introduced speech of a new texture, and have not adapted it to the appraisement of contemporaries, what is the end of all this word-selling (i.e., speech). And wherefore is the head of assertion exalted? Though you may be speaking truth and not be praising your own idea, yet it is far better to erase from the page of existence a feature which looks like arrogance, and not stain the garment of your pure mind with this unbecoming language.

“Be not drowned in the water of thy own merits.
Look to a standing-place for thy feet
Thousands of boats have sunk in this whirlpool
And not a plank has come ashore.”

The truthful and appreciative assayers of speech, and judges of its lofty rank know that in this noble hall² of audience five things of great price should be gathered. First—Spiritual brilliance must cast her ray from high heaven on a pure heart and make it her auspicious landingplace. Second—A choice combination of opposite qualities must clothe the secluded ones of the heart's bright chamber with the painted silks (parniyān) of words, and so associate those daughters of the spirit with elemental forms that they may make a wondrous compound like that of soul and body. Third—A new, heart-delighting and grief dispelling plan must clarify the ears, and exalt the soul. Fourth—Arrangement³ and taste must give spirituality its proper setting. Ambiguous⁴ expressions must be rejected. The theme must be brought into its proper mansion, and speech—the lover—must be adorned both spiritually and physically. Fifth—The rhetorician must keep his style free from obscurity and disagreeable tautology. Nor must frigid¹ glances, or heavy features be admitted into the assembly, and also there must not be anything trite or hackneyed. There must be animation and rosy friendliness. To all this collection of goodness there must be added suitable time, and opportunity must help speech so that a right intention, singleness of aim, strenuous search, and the vigorous help of wisdom may all meet in one place. Constant supplication and the favour of the Incomparable Creator must be accompaniments (doshadosh, lit. shoulder to shoulder). And every one of these requisites carries along with it many conditions and ancillary points. This noble volume cannot reckon them, nor my limited leisure admit of describing them. But a trusty helper is indispensable who should by the light of his intelligence search for faults with the eye of an enemy and should address himself as a friend to their amendment. Evidently the companionship of such a distinguished man, elixir of wisdom, and arranger might constitute a sixth jewel of great price. On this day when my heart is distracted, and my soul pawned in a thousand places, and when I am unfamiliar with Persian diction, and the true guide unavailable, how can my heart's desire be accomplished? And what hope is there of a happy issue? Above all, at this time, when the glory of spirituality, adorner of speech, balance of wisdom, scale of truth, my eldest brother Shaikh Abu-l-faiẓ-faiẓī, who was as a father to me, has departed from the troubled house of the elements to the holy resting-place, and eloquence's bride sits mourning! My condition became still more bewildered and my heart snapped the links of understanding. I was aroused by a Divine message,² and fell into a long repentance.

Alas for this confused medley of knowledge
The breast full of learning, and nothing known,
I am nought, and my thoughts less than nought,
Nothing comes from me but yet wilder words.

The fault-recognising eye¹ was found, and my head sank into the fold (lit. pocket) of shame. In the beginning of the roll of fortune (the Akbarnāma), my design was that when the story of stories (dāstān dāstān) should have been written, it would receive beauty's rouge from being decorated by that chief² of the eloquent. Suddenly, a deadly sorrow appeared, and it came into my mind that there was no happiness for any one. Accordingly I in my distress and feebleness of capacity hissed out idiotic³ cries, and revealed my rawness.

O lord of speech, look not on the crudity of speech
For I'm consumed by the death of the pattern of sages⁴
And am more brokenhearted than that crystal vase
Which lies far off within the rock.

Up to the tenth year (of the history of Akbar) the assemblage of wisdom (Faiẓī) had revised the composition of this know-nothing; not, however, to the extent that his heavenly mind was satisfied therewith, or that this bewildered pupil in wisdom's school was pleased. Time showed such jugglery, and pointed to a soul-exhausting day! Life became difficult to me, and my heart grew yet more disturbed at the mutability of things. The charm of the graciousness of the Khedive of enlightenment, and the wisdom-amulet of the spiritual and temporal caravan-leader (Akbar) recalled me from the aversion (to society) and bound me anew to sociability (t'aalluq). With a disturbed heart and a confused mind I summoned up resolution to write the glorious (gauharīn) history. But difficulties and bitterness caused from time to time fresh distress to my confused heart and distracted it more than ever. And ever-new bewilderment ruined my thoughts' metropolis. Why should not the dust of rebellion arise, and why should not the foot of resolution tremble? For, together with various tumbles and contrarieties, a lofty sage, who helped me on every side, had departed, and a companion, who in respect of intellect possessed a nine-tenths share, had taken the veil. Would that in the famine-year¹ of humanity there had been a helper who could have written the pages when my heart was distracted so that they should not disgrace those which had gone before! Or if this stock of knowledge were not, an expert was indispensable who could amend² the writing of a distracted soul, and could erase clauses and introduce words and elicit meanings. Or if Time grudged even this, some persons were indispensable who might from the brilliancy of their enlightenment, and the strength of their courage perceive faults. Inasmuch as in the ambushes of my heart there was a daily-increasing agitation for freedom, and as there were various competing, outward engagements pressing upon me, and the confidential and loving friend was under the veil, what could be the value of the matter supplied by the heart to the hand, and by the latter to the pen. As my thoughts were clear, and gratitude to God increasing, and my loyalty sincere, and the genius of the Shāhinshāh was assisting, the light of fortune cast a ray in that darkness of struggles, and bestowed energetic strength.

What is within my heart
Is spiritual coin beyond count
I did not earn this enduring wealth myself
I received it from my patron's glance.

On the first Āẕar of the 40th Divine year (about 11 November 1595) I shut¹ the door of my house² of anguish. Outwardly I was occupied, to the exclusion of everything else, in writing the noble history, inwardly I was supplicating the Incomparable Giver, and was imploring a lamp for my darkened heart. I was laying the head of entreaty at the threshold of the Divine greatness, and begging for the accomplishment of my wishes. Suddenly fortune's morning unveiled her countenance, and a ray of light brightened the windowless closet. When I had time to meditate, and surprise had departed (literally had packed up), the morning-glory caught the slit of my pen. A great joy seized me, and a wondrous delight showed itself. My sore³ and adust body donned the robe of spring, and a guide for my enterprise appeared. My heart renewed its vigour, and my useless (literally, headless and footless) pen drew a wondrous sketch. The stewards of glory roused up the wedding-minstrel⁴ of discourse to a mystic⁵ dance. In a short space of time I was made a rich treasury of eloquence, and a lofty diploma was granted to me. The titles of Nādir-al-kalāmī⁶ (marvel-of-oratory) and Shams-i-peshtāq-i-goyāī⁶ (sun of the portico of speech) were conferred. Some delightful expressions were put into writing (by Akbar). Thanks were returned for favours and a jewel-volume was completed as a gift to truth-seekers and connoisseurs. A great good fortune and brightener of the countenance arrived.

Fortune ran and opened the door of success
She gave a gift greater than my wishes
The nightingale of speech flew up from my mind's rose
The veil of concealment was rent by my pen's point

Host upon host of spirits joined me
Called and uncalled, they passed through the door
The idols of the heart ran forward
My pen invited them with a melodious murmur.¹

It is now fitting that there should be the melody of joy and the whispering of delight. But how can he whose resolution is attached to the recording of cycles upon cycles break his fast by writing the account of one of them? With what provision can he satisfy his heart and indulge in pleasure? Especially on this day when by heaven's decree there is a fresh agitation in my head, and another consideration has come to my perturbed mind? The body is urban (i.e., inclined to sociability) but the soul is campestral; there is the thought of the last journey which will dissolve associations. There is the futility of my contemporaries whose tongues speak, but whose hearts are silent. There is daily-increasing anxiety about the composition of the book of fortune (Iqbālnāma, i.e., the Akbarnāma).

Alas! A mountain (koh) of grief has fallen on a straw (kāh)
The moon has become the beloved of a tiny ant
This strange thing has happened
The beggar has fallen in love with the king.

The sole desire of my thoughts is that when the marvels of several cycles shall have been described, and my obligations of gratitude shall have been paid suitably to my wish, I may by the Divine aid withdraw my foot from among the world's servants and earnestly apply myself to the service of God. May I emerge from the defile of association and relationship, and obtain repose at the sublime stage of enlightenment! May I emerge from the strivings of this soul-destroying abode of demons, and enjoy happiness in the holy chamber of eternity!

Remove your goods from this caravanserai
For the roof has holes, and the clouds are big with tempest,

'Tis a cell where you cannot remain
Be your years 10, 100, or 1000
Lift up the screen so that they may bring in
The Divine Couch to the dais (of the heart).

But in the atmosphere of this lofty eyry the wings of the courage of the highflyers of the fields of cognition grow faint, what then must be the condition of the sensual and selfish? Shall I speak of the thorny and dangerous road? Or shall I allude to the grief of those who, from the wickedness of the robbers of the desert, which is full of evil, have fallen short of their goal? Or shall I speak of pain from the cowardice of selfish fellow-travellers? In the garish inn of natural existence, Wisdom sits in the corner of contempt, and Self-will on the height of ostentation. The varied phantasmagoria of the outer world hunt after the soul, and the spiritual physician has assumed the veil. The last evil is the soul-tormenting of the wicked. Some by smooth speech, and some by silence sell evil things (nikūhīdigī) as good things (nekūkārī) and in the garb of guides practise highway robbery (dar libās rahnamūnī rahzanī kanand). Most, after having been deceived themselves, practise fraud upon others, and regard the injuring of men—what need then to speak of animals—as matter for boasting. How can the number of those who have yielded their hearts to the blandishments of this harlot (the world) who robs the wise, and destroys Rustum-like strength be reckoned up? How can the jugglery and sorceries of the workers of iniquity be enumerated? The eldest of them is baseness of disposition which is enchained by the pledge of love for this friend-slaying, foe-soothing One (the world). On the prosperity of this quicksilver-waved mirage it (the base disposition) has the triumph of sloth (kharsandī) and a joy composed of heedlessness. In the adversity of this wheat-shower, barley-seller, shall it not feel the being trampled under the foot of regret, and the exhaustion of grief? On this account the wise and eloquent, in their diagnosis of mysteries, call the first¹ the “Father of that quickly-perishing mountebank” (the world). The second is the fool who on the coming or going of the old dotard snaps the thread of discretion and judgment, and becomes bewildered with joy or sorrow. His hunger is not satisfied by her many seeming but unsubstantial dainties, nor his wishes quieted. Nor is his orphaned¹ stomach filled by the deficiencies of this something-seeming but in reality nothing, nor is the foot of his desire made lame. In the allegory of truth this (the fool) is called son of the capricious drunkard (the world). The third is the purblind and low man who on account of old errors does not come away by the highroad of truth from pursuing the desires of this world—which has come to the meeting-place of the furious blasts of destruction—but who trusts to the worthless remedies of the cheating Age, and lays his hand on the skirt of deceit and fraud, and thinks to convey himself to the shore of safety by his own devices (dastān sarāī). Great men have called him in their allusive style the slave of that thousand-wiled magician. The fourth is that slumbrous confused one who is led astray by the crowding of desires and seeks to make a shield for himself out of fraudulent traditions. Moralists point him out in enigmatical language as the handmaid of this faithless juggler.

It is clear to the leaders in the assembly of judgment what must be the state of the man who looks for repose in such a place of turmoil, when such is the state of those who have chosen it. If in expounding this thesis I should write of the sects² of ancient times and of the present day, my work would be like filling an abyss, and the foot of my travelling pen would be worn out at the first stage. Hear now a little of my own story! And let me stretch out the foot of effort for curing myself.

If I tell my story from the beginning
I'll travel so far that I can't come back.

My honoured father practised contentment in seclusion and lived apart from the world's house of turmoil. He regarded me with more affection than he did my brothers, and from the beginning of my growth he, by the strength of precept and example, did not permit the approach of the wayward and the defiled. He always watched over me with an inward and outward purity, and instructed me with an eloquent tongue in the lessons of truth.

From my first infancy I did not play “Hide¹ and Seek”
For my guardian was both my father and my mother.

As the acquired sciences ('ulūm muktasabī) hold the veil over spiritual Beauty, my father, in his love to my bewildered self, wished to conduct me also to the study of them. But from my fifth year I was in a confused state, and my heart in nowise inclined to hear or speak about such things. It seems as if my temperament robbed me of² that guide (rahbar) to the abode of perfected pupils, and of that light of the portico. The stupendous dangers of an endless desert—which make men of men to stumble—had taken possession of my soul's chamber. When my years increased and my knowledge developed, my heartfelt disgust increased also, and the truceless agitation became more intense. I withdrew from everyone, and delighted myself with the companionship of madness. I came³ to long for death. The secret attraction of the leader of Truth's caravan (his father) bound me, the heedless and heartless one, to the customary abode of knowledge, and in my fifteenth year, when the heavy sleep of thoughtlessness holds all men, I traversed the wide field of wisdom, and the ample space of the doctrines of many schools. The advancement of knowledge¹ increased my arrogance, and the intoxication of enlightenment augmented my confusion. In spite of my having such a powerful guide and perpetual overseer, the turbulence of self-willed intellect increased, and egotism showed itself under various forms. By the favour of the fount of lofty ideas (his father) the secrets of the Platonists,¹ the hidden treasures of the Ṣūfīs, and the wondrous observations of the Peripatetics² were acquired by me. It was natural that so much learning and the arrogance produced by it should reduce the importance of the deceptive world. The same principle which increased self-glorification and self-worship, broke the connection with other men. I was dissatisfied with the unprofitableness of the world's booths and my heart was captivated by the anchorites. The thought of a hermitage displayed fresh vigour. There was not such madness of bewilderment that I turned away from the command of wisdom and took a pathless direction. Nor had my disorder such ungentleness that I would grieve my visible gods (khudāyān-i-majāzī) (i.e., his parents). I spent my days in the hollow of joy and grief with a dejected mind. The thought of freedom contributed somewhat to my repose. From the base disposition which was in me, and the timidity which was part of my constitution, together with my complete aversion to society and my love for the desert, I entered the lofty hall of bewilderment, and fell into a strange state from the enchantment of inward perturbations. The displeasing (narāẓamandī) of my illustrious teacher (pīr) by those erratic wishes was very present to me (literally, very near) and yet the giving up of a contrary notion was very far off. At every breath submission to that unique one of enlightenment's kingdom was on the increase, but from time to time various impulses acquired fresh strength.

The luck to associate with my beloved was wanting,
I had not the endurance to refrain from love
No hand to contend with fate
No foot wherewith to flee away.

At length heaven told my story in the glorious (humāyūn) assembly of the Shāhinshāh, and the star of a happy fortune shone from the horizon of prestige. The pursuivants (cāwūshān) followed, and a summons shed glory upon me. By the machinations of my extraordinary soul the picture of ambition had been erased from my mind's antechamber, and the longing for asceticism displayed its power. I was on the point of treading the desert of frenzy with bared head and foot, and of breaking to pieces the enclosing wall of environment, and taking the path of liberation. My spiritual physician (his father) knew that the king of the Age was the caravan-conductor of God's worshippers, and had also some acquaintance with fate's decrees, and so he addressed himself to my cure. He opened his casket of jewels and inculcated sociability upon me. Through the magic and enchantments of this guide I hastened to the shrine of dominion and glorified my forehead by prostrating myself at the threshold of the glorious, enthroned one. Without any stain on my spirit's skirt from corruptive canvassing, or any rubbing of the foot of search on the wide plain of avidity, and before there could come the shame of expectancy, or self-respect be thrown² away, and without the mediation of this or that person, and without having to supplicate any one, the Shāhinshāh's graciousness laid hold of me, and raised me from the hollow of obscurity to the height of lofty rank. The alchemic glance of the spiritual and temporal lord gave fresh impluse to my energy and a new expansion to my heart. I was cured to some extent from the obstinate malady which my father with all his curative skill had been unable to remedy. By the strength of perception I spread the cloth of concord and union with mankind, but there was something hypocritical in my down-sitting, and I was, as it were, in ambush.¹ Many mental faults displayed their lineaments, but I found strength to delete some of them. The very resurrection of hate ended in love. Nor could the refractoriness of many groups of men stop me from the noble pursuit,² or stir up the dust of failure in my heart's pleasant home. Some of those in the glorious entourage of the world's lord eagerly seized the opportunity of attaining wisdom, and there was a new and daily market for the investigation of ideas, and the examination of evidence. Owing to inacquaintance with scientific principles, and to their being void of real knowledge, the praters of the day—who, on account of their humbug and plausibility, were looked upon as men of much enlightenment—fell into difficulty. Sometimes they practised trickery by keeping silent, by elevating their eyebrows, and by turning up their eyes, and sometimes they replied by speaking in enigmas and by talking nonsense. By heaven's favour they were so brought to a stand that their base-metal talismans broke in pieces. They were obliged to give up that plan, and to have recourse to absurdity. They esteemed Reason and Faith to be opposites, and some simple-minded descendants of Turks³ were led⁴ away. Relying on the help of those ignorant and foolish persons, they now pressed forward as if to victory. The assistance of a happy star and an open brow brought them down from that high ground, and they proceeded to cavillings and to the discussion of minute points of acquired (manqūl) knowledge. In accordance with the tactics of such a crew they set up false principles and introduced¹ worthless arguments. There were long discussions about creeds and sects, and they represented the critical examination of doubtful points as laying pitfalls in the articles of faith and so inveighed against it. Some behaved badly on receiving these hypocritical warnings. Old² intimates and friends of long standing gathered up the skirt of caution so that I was surrounded by a wall of exclusion in my own city. Sometimes I uttered songs of joy at this solitude in the midst of society. I knew it was the result of right-thinking and so increased my supplications to God. Sometimes from human weakness and feebleness of capacity I murmured to myself “What strange thing is this? I spread the carpet of right-thinking and well-wishing towards men, and I strive against myself, and spoil³ my own play. Why do men lie in ambush against me.” By heaven's help, and a happy star, the world's⁴ glories, and the mental sloth and the frowns of friends and strangers, and the futile talk of far and near, and the agitation of short-sighted malevolent men wrought no breach in the continuity of my soul. The flatness of Truth's market gave me fresh joy.

Like the pearl-oyster I smile⁵ when tormented
'Tis for the untrained to smile when successful.

When several revolutions of the heavens had occurred, the doors of dominion opened, and a new glory was given to ambition. The world's slaves exchanged the rage of envy for religious animosity and occupied themselves with evil designs. From narrowness of view and from spite they entered upon war with Almighty God, and heaped up for themselves everlasting destruction.

Those two or three slanderers demolish their own bed
They attack their own profession as well as me
May I be like the revolving moon
I decrease not, or if I do I wax again.

Inasmuch as my intentions were right, and my devotion firm, the sorry tricksters were defeated everywhere, spiritually and temporally. They were informed of the true condition of enlightenment and had to sink into the street of humiliation. At that time I, in my ignorance of the heights and hollows of the world, was seeking the companionship of that crew, while they took the course of showing dislike to me. Now this slumbrous-witted faction wishes to conciliate me, the once troubled and now quiescent one, and to enter into my service, whilst I reject them!

The sun of auspiciousness lighted up the darkness of the desert and by the encouragement of the world's lord I came to the pleasant abode of peace with all men. My perturbed spirit rejoiced in the clear chamber of tranquillity and as I seized the skirt of rejoicing I sang thus “If men think¹ you wicked, and so choose the path of enmity they are acting according to their lights and are treading the path of piety. Why are you irritated? If they know you to be good and yet follow this course it is evident that they are suffering from the disease of envy. Why look for healthy acts from a sick man?” From human frailty and mortal weakness the murmur of a wish arose from the bottom of my heart, and this desire came forth “How good it would be if my inefficient foes could understand the tranquillity of my disposition and my antipathy to revenge so that they should not use fawning bodies and supplicating tongues for making² excuses, and might make their external acts correspond with their internal feelings, and be delivered from mental troubles! Would that the good feeling which I bear to my ill-wishers, and my observance¹ of right—which does not know the path of hypocrisy— were known to my ignorant and childish friends so that the coin² of friendship might not bring any pain along with it.”

I threw fire into my sheaves with both hands
When I did it myself why do I plain of an enemy?
No one is my foe, I'm my own enemy
Alas for myself, my arm and my skirt!

With regard⁴ to my panegyrists and defamers I have passed from the second⁵ stage and arrived at the third. I hope that there will be no retrogression and that the guidance of a happy fortune will bring me to the delightful fourth station! May I repose there, and keep apart from (the doctrine of) co-partnership⁶ with the Incomparable Deity. Most persons cultivate friendship with the first class (that of the panegyrists), and behave in an opposite fashion to the second. Dissemblers are apparently unaffected by either class: secretly they are delighted with their panegyrists, and cherish resentment against their censors. A few heaven-helped ones see the strange deceptiveness of it all, they regard both classes with an equal eye and are not perturbed by either of them. There are many who are deceived by the protean spirit which says to them “Evil speech against one such as you who are on the right path, carries with it the Divine displeasure.” They swallow the deception and rise up in abuse of their detractors, and thus turn aside from the highway of bliss. When an accurate estimate¹ of their actions is made, it is found that they themselves have omitted to reckon many foolish and wicked acts. The noble position is to regard the admirer who supplies food for arrogance as an enemy and the detractor who points out faults as a friend. Would that I might attain to this form of enlightenment and reach the height of my aspirations, and be delivered from the sting of a domestic foe to self-knowledge! By the help of my temperament and by firmness of soul I was soon freed from my aversion² (to society). I waged war with myself and renewed the incessant combat.

How shall I make war with myself
From whose collar shall I exsert my head?
I'll make a rent in the veil of my trappings
May it be that I strike a blow at my own skirt.

I continually smite myself and rehearse my self-disgust with a reproachful tongue. “Seeing that the Unique¹ Witness, whom the ancients designated by the phrase “strength of eye-testimony” has by the lamp of proof shown you to be one of the right-minded and enlightened, why are you depressed? Running away from what, do you seek the corner of despisedness? What has wearied you and made you stretch out the hand of wish? I admit that you have no inspiration, and that the light of brilliant knowledge has not been granted you. But by a happy star and a robust heart there have been given to you the search for truth and a large capacity, so that in the court of business and in the decision of cases, friend and foe, stranger and acquaintance are regarded by you with impartiality and that² neither the satisfaction nor the dissatisfaction of a world can cloud your mind. An eager³ lover cannot gain his ends with you. What need then to speak of others? Why this hurrying to the realm of solitude? And what will you gain by being unknown?”

But⁴ what does the poet say and write?

My heart grasps the sleeve and skirt of sorrow
As when Wāmiq seized the tip of Aẕrā's tress,
I feel towards the world's turmoil and to men
Such disgust as was felt by the 'Anqā.

The truth of the matter is that human effort is not successful. What can be done with regard to what has been written in destiny's antechamber? And upon what do the revolutions of the stars and the heavens depend. We cannot devise any remedy against the deceitful commixture of heavenly and earthly bodies. No shield can be framed against the archery of the skies.

The bow of heaven is drawn from the side where the cuirass is
I'm my own enemy, what use is there of donning a cuirass?

Now a wrestling-match has begun with my thousand-wiled spirit. The friends of each stand firm and from time to time the jugglery is renewed. There is wondrous rising and falling and the countenance of instruction is illuminated. I¹ know not what the end will be and in what station I shall repose, or with which of the three forms² of Divine knowledge I shall be eternally conjoined. Or by what enchantment will the final refreshing slumber take place. Fear has a knot on brow (thinking) that the varied glories of the universe may not enter her house of toil. Hope has an open brow (thinking) that she may with joy bear the griefs of mortals on the shoulder of her genius. The swift and prudent walker who has abandoned the dunghill of Fear, the petty garden of Hope, the fireplace of Contraction, and the recreation-ground of Expansion is not bound by joy or sorrow. Every moment an order for residence comes to the station, and ere I have made the place warm, I am summoned from another door.

With such inward struggles, I became by loyalty's command engaged in writing this weighty history. The loyalists of devotion's feast do not turn to other work. Why should this not be so? And why should it appear strange? After serving the King of enlightenment the world's gauds cease to weigh in the balance of the soul, and the gorgeous spectacle of the outer world has no value in vision's antechamber. Of necessity the pen moves in laud of the great gift, and praise grows fervid. To some extent a fresh lustre is bestowed on my heart for the writing of the tale of truth. I do not, like a sensualist,² measure water in a sieve or pound air in a mortar. It is far better that I do not uncover the lid of my strange soul and that I do not cast out into the open my inward secret. It is not proper to proclaim things that do not penetrate the ears of contemporaries, and which the eyes of the conventional do not comprehend.

If I were to tell the thoughts of my heart
You'd either be amazed like me or not believe.

“Abūl Faẓl, son of Mubārak, why has your wisdom-seeking heart grown full of whispers of hidden things, and of speech about subjects of silence. Are you bringing your characteristics into the hall of publicity, and are you giving the stranger an audit into the secret chamber of your heart? A spring of vision is trickling from your clear, inner chamber. What wise man's part is it to let wine flow¹ out? Stand resolutely on the cloth of service and make supplication to God while praising your king. Convey holy mysteries in a secular strain.” The message of truth brought back my heart from folly. Strength was given to my purpose. Vigour for work increased, and a fresh glory was bestowed on my nature! The inscription which Fortune wrote on my destiny's portico and which impawned this slave of Gratitude was that I should be tied to the saddlestraps of eternal dominion and become a historian of marvels. This constellation of intellect's horizon, and this star of a spiritual heaven (the Akbarnāma) was, from its glorious ascension, day by day presented for the auspicious hearing (of Akbar), as it came to the tongue of the pen and was transferred to paper, and was welcomed by him. Happy the slave whose service is approved by the Shāhinshāh, and who gets a mark of approbation from his Court!

God be praised! This first narrative
I have made right in an excellent way,
During the period of this composition
The word was mine, the inspiration the Shāh's
Should genius make me hopeful
Heaven grant leisure and Fortune courage
I shall by the motion of the heavens-traversing pen
Carry to an end this lofty writing.²

P. 4, Notes wrongly numbered. In line 3 the note should be 2, No. 3 refers to Kalānūr, 4 to “screens,” and 5 to last line of poetry.

P. 37, l. 19. For Ali read Abū.

P. 72, No. 1, for Hatch read Hata. Five lines from foot insert 2 after Hājī K., and also prefix to note n. For Annotations in, read Annotations on, and for Rai Kaapatar read Rai Kalapatar.

P. 73, three lines from foot, no. 2 should be 1, No. 2 refers to last line, and 3 belongs to p. 74.

P. 81, n. 2, second sentence belongs to p. 82 and refers to Shāh Qandahārī.

P. 82, n. 1, belongs to p. 81.

P. 87, l. 17, Backotī read Bachgotī.

P. 97, n. 4, should be 3, and 3 should be 4, and n. 3 is continued on p. 98.

P. 98, n. 1, refers to Chagānīān. The Pāsha n. belongs to p. 97.

P. 99, add to note about Selīma's age. “The B. M. copy, Or. 171, of Kāmgār Ḥusainī's Jahāngīrnāma, p. 72a, has a note stating that Selīma was 76 at her death. See also B. M. MS. of T. Muḥammadī, Or. 1824, p. 140, and note in A.S.B.J. for December, 1906, p. 509.

P. 103—Insert Sayid Maḥmūd Bārha before Shāh Qulī. n. 1, for “wooden” read “woollen.”

P. 129, n. 2. See R.A.S.J. for 1905, pp. 131 and 364, and do. for 1909, p. 165.

P. 130, l. 9, for capre, read cup.

P. 135, l. 9, for Bahlūl read Ghauṯ, do. n. for Ghans read Ghauṯ.

P. 136, l. 16, several MSS. read Mubāriz, and this is right.

P. 143, l. 21, for Missron read summon.

P. 157, l. 5, Shāh Budāgh K.'s name should be inserted before Majnūn.

P. 192, top line, for M, read Mīr.

P. 208, l. 16, for Ḥabīb Qulī read Habīb 'Alī.

P. 325, for Amān read Aman.

P. 344, for Ranad read Ranūd.

P. 352, for Nālcha read N'alcha.

P. 362, top line, dele “and.”

P. 377, for Nīmkhar read Nīmkār.

P. 381, dele dot in Maḥapattar.

P. 386, n. 2, for Ahū-i-karan read Ahū-i-ḥaram.

P. 415, n. 1, for 42 read 424.

P. 436, l. 3, line of text omitted here, insert after Yār 'Alī “and Khūshḥāl Beg who for a time was in Humāyūn's body-guard.”

P. 455, ten lines from foot, for “farmed” read “famed.”