AOMIROS [HOMER], THE POET.
He was an old poet of the Greeks, as highly esteemed among them as Amrulqais among the Arabs. From his time till the mission of the Lord Mûsa, a period of five hundred and sixty years elapsed. He composed many wise sayings and poems, and his style was imitated by all subsequent Yonâni poets. The following are some of his sayings: ‘He is a wise man who restrains his tongue from defamation.’ Being asked when he will cease to praise a certain man, he replied: ‘When he ceases to be virtuous and benevolent.’ When told that many falsehoods were embodied in one of his poems, he replied: ‘Poetry confines itself to fine and modulated expressions, and prophecy to truth.’ To a beautiful boy who had no intellect, he said: ‘This house is in good condition, but untenanted.’ ‘The courage inspired by wine must be ascribed to that beverage, and not to the man who displays it.’ He also said: ‘Distinguished persons consider intellect to be [like?] the prophet of God, and whoever has no intellect is to be considered as remaining ignoble for ever and ever.’ ‘Falsehood is licit only in cases of necessity, like a medicine in cases of sickness.’
ZINÔN BIN TÂLÔGHÔRAS.
He was a man of ruddy complexion, middle stature, with large and lively eyes, and a large head. He was sweet spoken and of polished manners; his attachment to those whom he loved was such that on a certain occasion when the reigning king wished to destroy some of his friends, Zinôn collected sufficient forces and extricated them from the king’s men. At last, however, they were all captured, and Zinôn, being pressed to make revelations, stated that no amount of force could induce him to betray his friends, and biting off his own tongue, spat it out; he was nevertheless subjected to tortures, under which he expired at the age of seventy-two years. It is related that he always impressed on his disciples that whenever they were deprived of any property, they should not consider it as a real loss, but say: ‘We have returned the loan which had been entrusted to us.’ Perceiving one day a youth seated in a state of melancholy on the seashore, he surmised that poverty was the cause of his distress, and spoke to him as follows: ‘Friend! imagine that you are a rich merchant, navigating the ocean with a thousand ships full of merchandize, but that contrary winds have destroyed your ships, and that you are in danger of perishing in the waves; or fancy that you were a powerful sovereign, and that a successful antagonist had deprived you of your kingdom, and captured your person. Now suppose yourself to be either the merchant or the king, and to have escaped from these imminent perils of death; be therefore patient and grateful, because your case might be a great deal worse than it is.’ This admonition changed the grief of the youth to joy, and his despair into hope.
BATOLIMOS [PTOLEMY], THE PHILOSOPHER.
Batolimos was a distinguished geometrician and astronomer, who composed many scientific works. One of these is the book called among the Yonânians Maghâston, meaning ‘Great,’ but in Arabic it bears the name of Majasti. The place of his birth and education was Eskandariah, in Egypt, and he carried on his astronomical observations during the reign of the King Azariânôs; the opinion, however, of some that he also enjoyed royal dignity is erroneous. He was a man of middle stature and fair complexion. On his face he had a red mole. His moustache was thick, and he had prominent teeth. His utterance was beautiful, and his conversation pleasing; but he was prone to violent anger. He walked slowly, ate sparingly, fasted much, but loved perfumes and beautiful garments. He died at the age of seventy years.
The following are some of his maxims: ‘Whoever revives science dies not.—A wise and excellent man, whose own relatives are not able to appreciate his worth, is a stranger among them.—Wisdom is a tree growing from the heart, and producing fruits from the mouth.—Who desires to live long must be ready to bear troubles patiently.—Who is not warned by the misfortunes of others is warning others by his own.—In the same manner as a person in a state of disease can relish neither food nor drink, so also he who is entirely absorbed in the affairs of this world is inaccessible to spiritual advice.—Good works in this world are a capital bearing interest in the next.—A kingdom is injured by six things: (1) By want of patience in calamities; (2) by the absence of rain; (3) by the emptiness of the treasury; (4) by the king’s assiduity in carousing and associating with intriguing women; (5) by ill-humour and excess in punishing; (6) By immoderate expenses and by enemies.—Whoever has any sense knows that the shadow of a cloud, the love of the mob, the society of hypocrites, and the establishment of tyrannical laws have no permanency.—A wise man does not associate with royal personages, but if he does, he must disguise his advice in parables in such a manner as not to incur their displeasure, when he wishes to reprove them.’
SOME MAXIMS OF BÂSOLÛS THE PHILOSOPHER.
‘In the same manner as a navigator does not set sail with every wind, so also a wise man ought not to yield to every impulse of his mind.—Be not greedy to amass wealth, for, although you may fill your pockets, your hearts may become void of religion.—The grief for the loss of property cannot be greater than for that which has been bestowed on unworthy men.’
JÂLINUS [GALEN] THE PHYSICIAN.
He was the eighth of the celebrated physicians, whose series is as follows: (1) Asqlabios the first, (2) Ghorus, (3) Sapûs, (4) Parmânidos, (5) Aflatûn, (6) Asqlabios the second, (7) Boqrât, (8) Jâlinus, who is the seal of the great physicians, because no succeeding ones were able to attain his celebrity. He was born after the mission of the Messiah, and wrote four hundred large and small books on the science of medicine, sparing no trouble to elucidate every difficulty. The chief cause of his proficiency in this science was his own father, who spent large sums of money on the education of his son, and brought distinguished physicians from remote places to instruct him.
It is said that Jâlinus was born in the country of Saba in a place called Fara’as, which he left for the purpose of studying medicine in Atheniah, Romia and Eskandariah. From the society of geometricians, grammarians, and rhetoricians, he learnt geometry, grammar, and rhetoric. He met a woman perfectly skilled in medicine, but especially in the cure of diseases incident to females, and through her he became acquainted with a number of simples, which cost little, but are of great use. After that he travelled to Egypt, and remained there some time for the purpose of collecting officinal plants, but when he was about to return to his own country, he expired in the town of Farmâ, on the shore of the Great Sea. He was a man of brown complexion, of beautiful countenance, with broad shoulders, open chest, and long fingers. He was fond of listening to songs and frequenting musical entertainments; he was, nevertheless, very studious, and also travelled much. He never gave pain to his friends. He dressed in clean garments, used perfumes, mixed in the society of princes and high personages, but was silent in their assemblies.
In some books it is recorded that Jâlinus was a courageous and rich physician, looked upon with awe by everybody, and living in the province of Maqdoniah, in the country of Yonân [Greece]. The king of those parts, who was called Banqâs, distinguished Jâlinus by royal favours, and constantly praised him. At that time there was also a king of the Maghrab, named Bâz, who was obeyed by all the kings of those regions. One of his wives happening to be attacked by leprosy, and there being no skilled physician in that country, the king confided his difficulty to one of the wazirs, who gave him the following reply: ‘In the country of Banqâs there is a physician who is very celebrated, and it will be necessary to send to the king a letter to this effect: “Despatch Jâlinus to the foot of my exalted throne immediately on the receipt of this letter, or else be prepared to see thy kingdom devastated.”’ Bâz approved of the advice of his wazir, and sent the just-mentioned letter, which Banqâs perused, showed it to Jâlinus, and said: ‘I prefer to resist the king rather than be separated from you; I am ready to sacrifice my very life for you, and shall prepare myself for war.’ But as Jâlinus was not willing to cause bloodshed, and averred that he would rather comply with the demand, Banqâs wrote the following reply: ‘Although the princes of Yonân obey King Bâz, they are the servants of physicians, because the latter are in reality the masters of our bodies; and as Jâlinus is the chief of them, we request your majesty to send him back to us as soon as his services can be dispensed with at your court, because it would be very hard for us to be deprived of his company.’ This letter Jâlinus himself took charge of, and travelled to the country of King Bâz, whom he found to be of a tyrannical and inhuman disposition. For some time he made his appearance at the royal palace every morning and evening, but was unable to obtain an audience. He was, however, by royal command lodged in the quarters of the hunters, where he could obtain no other food but game. After the expiration of one month, he was taken to the king and gruffly interrogated by the interpreter concerning his trade. Jâlinus replied: ‘My business is to preserve health, and to remove disease before it has taken root.’ The king replied: ‘In my harem there is a patient whose black complexion has become white. Can you restore it to its former hue?’
Jâlinus: There are some diseases, the manifestation, duration and disappearance whereof are subject to fixed periods of time. I desire to know when this distemper has begun to manifest itself.
King: It has been developing itself during one year, has continued one year, and now it is the third year since its appearance.
Jâlinus: I have heard that your majesty deprives anyone of sight who ventures to look at a lady of the royal harem, but I cannot cure this disease without seeing the person afflicted thereby.
King: Such is my custom, and being aware of it, you may begin your treatment.
Jâlinus: There is a way of looking at the disease without seeing the lady.
King (astonished): If you can do what you say, we shall acknowledge your skill.
Jâlinus (having caused the sick lady to be placed in his rear, and seen the face in a mirror which he held in his hand): I have looked at the complexion of the lady; she may be cured.
The king, being pleased with this information, ordered a loaf from his table to be given daily to Jâlinus, who then treated the malady, till it completely disappeared. King Bâz was so delighted by this success, that he ordered Jâlinus to be always present at the royal table, where the physician had occasion to warn his majesty of the perilous nature of the heavy dishes consumed at the meals. This circumstance, however, induced the king to say to one of his courtiers: ‘I have separated this man from his friends and companions, and now he interposes himself between me and my favourite dishes; but I shall eat what I like, despite of his admonitions.’ Another courtier repeated these words to Jâlinus, and advised him not to endanger his life by displeasing the king. He took the hint, retired from the table of the king, and contented himself with the loaf daily furnished to him therefrom [as narrated above]. The king spent a few months in the country hunting, and never thought of Jâlinus until his return, when he met him again at table. Observing a heavy dish, of which his majesty was about to partake, the physician could not restrain himself from giving his opinion. The king then asked: ‘What malady will I get if I persist in this diet?’ Jâlinus replied: ‘The leprosy.’ Hearing these words, the king immediately stretched forth his hand, eating up all the food that was left, and said: ‘Despite of your advice, I have eaten as much as I could.’ Jâlinus replied: ‘I am under many obligations to your majesty, some of which I shall discharge by the composition of a work on the symptoms perceptible in the human body ere the disease itself appears, and indicating its approach one, two, or even three years in advance. This treatise your majesty is to preserve, and to remember me after my death.’ After having obtained permission, Jâlinus composed a work in which he described the causes of various maladies, together with the times of their beginning, end, or confirmation. He also registered and classified the diseases into curable and incurable ones, as well as into such as may be easily cured, and into such as are dangerous, and bring on death slowly or quickly. As he was convinced that the king would, on account of his insalubrious diet, be attacked by leprosy, he also predicted in the said book that, after the expiration of one year, his majesty would lose his sexual appetite, would become subject to languor and somnolency, entailing heaviness of all his limbs, but that if, in spite of all these symptoms, the king were to change his diet, he might yet escape from the disease; in the contrary case, however, the hair of his eyebrows and his nails would fall off; and also his sight would become weak after the expiration of one year. In this stage, however, a cure was yet possible, if the proper remedies were applied; but if his majesty remained careless, the disease would become incurable.
After completing the work, Jâlinus gave it to be preserved in the royal treasury, and having blackened all his limbs, fled to the country of Yonân, where he took up his residence in a town, under the jurisdiction of Banqâs. Some time afterwards Bâz was informed of the escape of Jâlinus, and was rather pleased, because the admonitions of the physician had made him uneasy. In course of time, however, the symptoms of leprosy began to manifest themselves as Jâlinus had predicted. When the king had lost his eyebrows and nails, he left the throne and departed secretly to Maqdoniah, where he at last found Jâlinus, who was engaged in teaching. Bâz requested a secret interview and informed him of his case, whereon the physician took him to his own house, and treated him in such a manner, that within the space of one year the hair of the king began to grow, and during the second he was not only perfectly cured, but had also lost his bad manners, and acquired the polish of the Yonânis [Greek].
When the king had entirely recovered his health, Jâlinus gave him his horse with one of his disciples for a companion, and sent him back to his own country. When Bâz arrived in his capital he was received with joy by his subjects, and his eldest son, who had administered the government during his absence, again yielded it to him. On that occasion the king despatched innumerable rich gifts—jewels, horses, and beautiful female slaves—to Jâlinus, whose disciple he likewise rewarded handsomely. He sent also letters with presents to King Banqâs, assured him of his friendship, and requested him to induce Jâlinus to return to his native country. The physician complied, and lived in great intimacy with King Banqâs, until the news reached him that Bâz had fallen sick; accordingly they travelled together to his capital, but when they reached it, they found that he had again recovered from his indisposition. He came out to meet them with a solemn procession and his whole court, at which they remained one month. Before they departed, arrangements were made to place one of the sons of Bâz under the tuition of Jâlinus, and also to betroth him to a daughter of Banqâs, to whom Banqâs ceded a portion of his kingdom. The object of these details was to convince those who pursue knowledge, that their efforts must ultimately be crowned with perfect success.
The following are some of the sayings of Jâlinus: ‘He would be a wise man who could possess a friend, watching every day his acts, and admonishing him to continue the good, but to abandon the bad ones.—It suffices a man, if he be wise enough, to discern the right from the wrong way, truth from falsehood, and happiness from misery.—The most acceptable gift is that which worthy recipients obtain without asking for it.—A man cannot act for his own welfare before he is acquainted with his own mind, because people are generally so biased by egotism that cowards imagine themselves to be valorous, and misers to be liberal, thinking their intellect to be perfect, whereas it is often merely the index of their folly.—Whoever is anxious for a good name is deserving of praise.—Always try to conciliate an enemy, although you may have great confidence in your own ability to subdue him.—He is praiseworthy who subdues wrath by meekness.’
THÂLIS MALATI [THALES THE MILETIAN].
He was one of the most celebrated philosophers of the country of Malatiah, and the man who first broached philosophical questions in those parts. It is related that, according to him, the genesis of the universe took place as follows: The first principle of all things was water, which became the cause of the habitable earth. The dissolution of the winds produced air. Various species of water produced fire, the smoke and vapours whereof constituted the firmament, and from the light thereof the Almighty created the luminaries of heaven. In the first chapter of the Pentateuch it is recorded that the origin of all things is an essence which the Lord Most High has created, and then having thrown a glance of awe upon it, in consequence whereof the said essence became melted. Then a smoke rose like vapour from the waters, and from that smoke God created the heavens. After that foam, resembling the foam of the sea, appeared on the surface of the waters. Then the Lord Most High said: ‘Produce the earth, and fix it by immovable mountains.’ Apparently Thâlis had received his system by prophetic inspiration.
ANAKSAGHORAS [ANAXAGORAS].
He was also of the country of Malatiah. Forfurius [Porphyrius] relates that according to him the root of all things was one mass containing the physical properties of all bodies. But he does not explain whether that mass was composed of the elements exclusively or partly, or not at all. Anaksaghoras was the first who maintained that the principles of things existed from all eternity in one productive force, from which the various genera and species, quantities and forms, were produced in the same manner as ears of corn grow from a single grain, and man himself is created from one drop of water. It is necessary to inform the reader that Anaksaghoras means by the first mass only additional, and not real priority, over all substances; it is, namely, the first addition to wind and water only, and not the first mass individually and absolutely. The assertion of Thâlis Malati that water was the first principle, is to be understood in the same manner.
ZI QRATÂS [ZENOCRATES?].
He was also from Malatiah, and one of the greatest philosophers of his time. According to his system the first of all created things was air, from which all bodies above and beneath originated. Thus, for instance, the heavens, the stars, the intellects, and souls, were created from pure and inorganic bodies, but plants, animals, and men from thick air.
ANKÂS.
He was one of the great philosophers, and is said to have been a contemporary of Behmen Bin Esfendiâr. Aristâtalis preferred the opinion of Ankâs to his own, and to those of Aflatûn. The following are some of his sayings: ‘Do not consider yourself to be a man as long as you can be overcome by your anger, and as long as you obey your passions.—A man is to be tried when he enjoys affluence and dignity; not when he is oppressed by distress and misery.—It is better to be an obstinate scholar than a pliant fool.—It is the duty of a man to purify his heart from deceit and fraud, in the same manner as one cleanses his garments from dirt and filth.—Be not too sweet lest you be swallowed, nor too bitter lest you be spewed out from the mouth.’ When a painter told him to whitewash his house, and that he would draw pictures on it, he replied: ‘First draw your pictures, and then I shall whitewash it.’—‘A learned man who makes no use of his learning, resembles a patient who has medicines, but does not cure himself.’
AQLIDES [EUCLID].
He was the first writer on geometry, and the book he wrote bears his name. The following are some of his sayings: ‘The geometrical line is an abstract idea, rendered visible by a physical instrument.’ A man said to him: ‘I shall not rest till I take your life’; but he replied: ‘I shall not rest till I remove your anger.’—‘Do not foment enmity between two brothers, because a trifle will again reconcile them, and your reward will be repentance.’
SÂQRATIS.
He was one of the most celebrated disciples of Aristâtalis, after whose decease he occupied his chair, and engaged in teaching. He composed trustworthy books, and the following are some of his sayings: ‘Things not connected with the mind concur sometimes in distracting it from its proper functions; such, for instance, are the physical pleasures of eating and drinking.—An unrighteous king, a rich man of unsettled habits, a grandee whose words cannot be trusted, a donor who indiscriminately scatters his wealth, and a virtuous man without firmness of purpose, must not be accounted rich, but needy.’
ON THE EXCELLENCY OF KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM.
The author [of this work] has considered it suitable— after recording some of the sayings and doings of such persons as were distinguished by wisdom and knowledge before the establishment of the Muhammadan religion—to insert some extracts from the Kitâb Fuvâid-us-sulûk, composed by a distinguished author, after the model of the Kalila va Dimna, with a few abridgments and changes, as follows:
It is recorded in chronicles that every man who acquires some knowledge, and ascertains the quality thereof by research, has, whether he practises that knowledge or not, by the mere possession of it acquired greater merit than the humble devotee, who has performed a thousand prayer-flexions in orisons. If, however, he practises that knowledge and teaches it to another, also the merit of the person thus taught accrues to him in addition, and is written down to him in the book of his works till the day of the resurrection.
The Emâm Muhammad Edris Shâfa’i—mercy be on him —says: ‘I have borne with the times, and patience became my deliverance; I have inherited knowledge, and knowledge became my deliverance.’ It is evident to wise persons that after intellect there is nothing more noble than knowledge, and after the latter no gift is more excellent than science. Firdausi—may Allah have mercy on him—has said:
Distich: Whom without knowledge you find
Always avoid him, and never mind.
All intelligent persons are aware that between science and intellect the chief difference consists in the impossibility of acquiring the latter by dint of study, diligence, and repetition, because it cannot be thus acquired, except that portion of it which is called practical wisdom. Knowledge, however, is attained by study, by travel, by attending schools, and by associating with learned men. A wise man is anxious to learn; he considers even such persons to be his teachers who are inferior to him in age and dignity, neither is he ashamed to own them as his masters and so respect them. Aflatûn says: ‘Who has not the patience required for study, must have patience with folly and ignorance.’
It is related that Jâlinus once walked in a pasture, where he saw a herdsman put out his tongue, and therewith assiduously lick the eyes of a cow. Asking for the reason of this proceeding, he received the following reply: ‘Once every month a whiteness appears in the eyes of this cow, which disables her from seeing in the night; but by licking the eye I remove that substance from it.’ Hereon Jâlinus gave the herdsman some money, saying: ‘This is your reward for the lesson in the science of medicine which you have just given me.’ That great physician was not ashamed to learn from an ignorant and low person, and highly esteemed the information he had received, although it was of no great importance. It is related that one day a juggler came to Khosru Parviz and performed wonderful tricks of sleight of hand before him. On that occasion also Shirin happened to be present, and being astonished at the performance, said to Khosru: ‘You are the king of the world, and ought to be more wise than anyone else. Tell me now whether you know this trade or not.’ Khosru, being ashamed to confess his ignorance to his mistress, he replied: ‘I know it.’ Thereon he beckoned to the juggler to depart, but secretly requested him to come again. When they were both alone, Khosru asked the juggler: ‘Can you teach me your art quickly?’ And when the latter gave an affirmative answer, he was presented with much gold, began his teaching immediately, and Khosru became in a short time so skilled, that whenever he happened to be alone with his mistress he performed tricks of legerdemain. That king was unwilling to incur the reproach of ignorance, because no failing is more disgraceful than this, and no advantages are greater than those of knowledge. This maxim is confirmed by the story of Behrâm and Behrûz, one of whom was by the advantages of learning raised to the throne of dignity, and the other was by the misery of ignorance kept poor and despised:
STORY.
It is related in historical narratives that once upon a time there lived in Tabaristân two brothers, distinguished by intelligence and wealth. The elder brother had a daughter called Jauhar, who was very beautiful and virtuous, and the younger had twin sons, a good one called Behrûz, and a bad one called Behrâm. Although the two youngsters loved each other, Behrâm was never happy except in the society of vagabonds, with whom he spent nearly all his time; whilst Behrûz was engaged in studying by day, and repeating his lessons in the evening. Both the father and the uncle were delighted with the disposition of this boy, and were grieved at that of Behrâm. According to the requirements of fraternal affection, Behrûz admonished his brother lovingly to walk in the straight path, and said: ‘Our stay in this world is too short for associating with bad persons, who may seduce us to fall into evil ways deserving of eternal punishment:
Distich: If you leave an evil name
You gain not Paradise, nor fame.
‘Be like a rose, my dear brother, which gladdens the hearts of men by its perfume while it lasts, and is remembered with pleasure after it has withered, and the return of whose blossoming is joyfully expected. Be not like a thorn, which pricks whenever it is touched, and lacerates any garment laid on it. People at last throw it into the fire because it injures them; but even if it never lifts its head from the ground men will not love it. Associate not with wicked persons, because their baseness will become engrafted on yourself, and friendship with them implies enmity towards virtuous men, and even towards God. I greatly fear that your fondness of bad company will bring on the same thing which the friendship of the monkey brought upon the gardener.’ Behrâm asked, ‘How was that?’ and Behrûz replied:
STORY.
‘It is narrated that in Rûm there was a gardener, active and tidy, as well as skilled in horticulture. He kept his garden in excellent condition. The freshness of its trees and flowers was beyond description, its blossoms looked like rubies and pearls, whilst it surpassed the gardens of paradise in beauty. This gardener was on terms of the greatest intimacy with a monkey. Before this, however, he had wounded a serpent, which was constantly seeking an opportunity for revenge. Once the gardener happened to be asleep, and the reptile conceived that the moment for retaliation was at hand; but as luck would have it, the gardener awoke the very moment the serpent was about to sting him and put it to flight. After this event the gardener was always afraid to take rest, and confided his difficulty to the monkey, whose advice he asked. The ape replied as follows: “You need not entertain the least apprehension in this matter, for I promise to keep watch at your pillow whenever you fall asleep, and should the snake venture to approach you, I shall, by throwing a large stone at him, cut his body in twain like a thread of cotton.” The gardener was rejoiced at this proposal, and went to bed in the afternoon, but he will not rise till the last trump of the resurrection awakens him, as will appear from what follows. When the gardener had fallen asleep, flies began to settle on his countenance, but were repeatedly driven away by the monkey. As they, however, returned again and again, the ape flew into a state of rage, and said: “Be easy! I shall do something to you which will prevent your doing any more mischief!” He then snatched up a stone, which he threw with all his might at the head of the gardener. In this manner he drove away the flies, but killed the man, who was not injured by his enemy the serpent, which he dreaded, but by his friend whom he loved:
Distich: A foe who is wise is better than a friend;
Knowledge is good in foe and friend.
‘I have narrated this fable to inform you that the company of fools leads to perdition.’ This parable, however, made no more impression upon Behrâm than the sting of a scorpion upon a rock, and he replied: ‘Dear brother, what boots it as long as I commit no wicked act? But supposing that we perpetrate even acts of burglary and theft, there is no harm as long as the king’s men know nothing, and cannot call us to account.’ Behrûz continued: ‘Simpleton! your wicked companions have so perverted your mind that you are incapable of receiving my advice. You are mistaken in believing the king’s people to be ignorant of your trick. They only respite you awhile, but will suddenly pounce upon you, as the fox did upon the cranes.’ Behrâm asked, ‘How was that?’
STORY.
Behrûz replied: ‘I heard of a lake, the banks of which were adorned with many odorous plants and flowers, like the heavenly paradise. The surface of its water was dotted by many birds, like the firmament with stars. Near this lake a flock of cranes alighted for the night, because its water was more pure than the minds of intelligent men, and its surface, which was more bright than a polished mirror, would reflect the form of any enemy who might try to approach them. The cranes kept also a watchman whose eyes were strangers to sleep.
Distich: Always awake like lovers’ eyes,
Interchanging secrets with the skies.
‘A very cunning fox happened to obtain information of the presence of the cranes, after whose flesh he hankered. Accordingly he meditated awhile, approached the bank stealthily, and threw a bundle of grass into the water, which gradually floated towards the watchman of the cranes, who, perceiving it, raised an alarm. All the cranes were on their wings in a trice, but finding out their mistake, they said to their guardian: “What is the matter with your eyes, that you are unable to distinguish a bundle of grass from an animal, and are disturbing our sweet slumbers?” The watchman, being ashamed at this reproof, placed the seal of muteness on his mouth. A short time afterwards, however, he again perceived a similar bundle drifting towards him, and awakened his companions, who then reproached him for being a fool, and threatened to deprive him of his situation. Therefore the watchman determined not to disturb the sleepers any more, let happen what might. The fox threw a fresh bundle into the water, and waited for the alarm; but as he heard nothing, he swam to the spot, first of all killed the watchman, who had become careless and drowsy, and then all the other cranes. I have related this parable to let you know that the people of the king are aware of your doings, that they are merely putting you off your guard, and that they will deal with you as the fox has dealt with the cranes.’ The more, however, Behrûz admonished his brother, the more the obstinacy of Behrâm increased.
Some time after this conversation, a friend of Behrâm dug a hole into the dwelling of the magistrate of the town during the night, stealing a great deal of money and goods, which he displayed to his companions, all of whom had congregated in one place, except Behrâm, who happened to be absent on that occasion. When the burglars were captured, judgment was pronounced against them, and all suffered punishment by being hanged on several trees. This event took such effect on Behrâm that he henceforth abstained from associating with dissolute men, and began to tremble whenever he heard even the name of one. After that Behrûz said one day to him: ‘Brother, I thought you would never abandon your criminal friends, because you were so closely allied with them. How did you come to repent of your evil ways?’ Behrâm said: ‘Your question resembles that which the lion put to the fox.’ Behrûz asked how that was [and his brother narrated the following:]
PARABLE.
‘A very powerful lion who lived in a desert associated with himself a wolf and a fox. One day the lion amused himself with hunting, and ordered his two companions to do so likewise. They started in various directions, but were again to meet on a certain spot they had agreed upon. When they had terminated their sport, the lion caught an onager, the wolf a fawn, and the fox a hare, and at their meeting again the lion said to the wolf: “Come, divide the prey.” The wolf replied: “The division is already correct: the onager belongs to the king [i.e., lion], the fawn to me, and the hare to the fox.” At these words the lion became so incensed with wrath that he attacked the wolf and tore off his head from his body. Then he said to the fox: “Divide the prey.” The latter replied: “Let his majesty consume the onager for breakfast, the fawn for dinner, and the hare between the two meals by way of luncheon.” The lion asked: “Who has taught thee to make so correct a distribution?” The fox replied: “The severed head of the wolf.”—And I have learned this lesson from the trees on which my friends have been hanged.’
While these events were taking place the uncle of Behrâm and Behrûz one day paid a visit to their father, who was his brother, and spoke privately to him as follows: ‘Life is uncertain, and its duration cannot be relied on. I have a daughter who will inherit my entire property. I do not want to marry her to a stranger, and thereby to deprive your family of sharing my wealth. I love your sons, and intend to give my daughter in marriage to Behrûz, with all my riches, and then to retire from active life.’ The brother replied: ‘My sons are not worthy to rank as your children, but only as your servants, and that station would suit them. If, however, you distinguish Behrûz by making him your son-in-law, Behrâm will become envious, his foolish disposition will prevail, and such enmity will arise between the two brothers that it will culminate in the utter extinction of our family, and our property will at last fall into the hands of enemies. On the other hand, if you accept Behrâm [to be your son-in-law] no evil results will ensue, because he is now engaged in acquiring the treasures and happiness of knowledge which can never be lost.’ At these words the father of Jauhar became angry, and said: ‘God forbid that I should give my daughter to Behrâm, just as if I were approving of his coarse manners. Do you not know that I selected Behrûz for his knowledge and virtue, and that I prefer him to Behrâm for these reasons?’ His brother replied: ‘Behrâm and Behrûz are both your servants, and if you have no objection I shall consult them on the subject of this marriage. After that I shall be ready to obey you in whatsoever you may order.’ The father of the girl assented to this suggestion, and the parent of the two youths returned home, informed Behrûz of his interview, and said: ‘It was my intention that this piece of good luck should fall to the share of Behrâm, because he has neither sense, nor understanding, nor penetration, and we do not know what evils his wickedness may bring on. But your uncle is not at all inclined to give him his daughter, and if you refuse to take her, strangers will put their fingers into the pie, and will feather their nests by marrying your uncle’s daughter into their family.’ Behrûz replied: ‘The good will of my uncle and the pleasure of my father overbalance all other interests with me.’ Accordingly, Behrûz was married to the girl; but when Behrâm was informed of the event he trembled from anger and envy, exclaiming: ‘I shall darken the life of Behrûz with the blade of my sword. I shall cause the sighs of grief, both of my father and uncle, to ascend to heaven, and I shall get hold of Jauhar, even if she conceals herself in the casket of non-existence, or if she attempts to rise into the sky like the sun. I shall prostrate her upon the ground with the lasso of my wrath.’ With these thoughts he approached Behrûz, who was poring over a book, but seeing the flames of wrath blazing in his eyes, approached him with compliments.
Behrâm [ironically]: I congratulate you on your marriage.
Behrûz: Were it not for your anger I might be congratulated.
Behrâm: You must excuse me if I retaliate in this business, and try to avenge the wrong I have suffered.
Behrûz: Perhaps you will resume your former habits, and associate with your old companions? Consider the threat you have just uttered towards me, and that I have committed no wrong by marrying the daughter of my uncle, whom he has given to me for the good of our family to prevent his wealth from falling into the hands of strangers. Had I disobeyed the behests of my uncle and of my father, I would have acted wrongly in the sight of God and man. You had forfeited your claim to the hand of the girl by your previous immorality, and our uncle would have rejected your suit.
Behrâm: You are delivering a speech, practising dialectics, and wrangling! You wish to palm yourself off upon me as a faithful adviser, but there is no love lost between us. Be at ease! I shall so arrange matters that nothing will be left to you except an old bag and a few rags, and you will be obliged to content yourself with a morsel of bread in the school like other students; you will be confined to their company, and no one else will associate with you.
Behrûz: What you wish to bring upon me as an evil is just what I covet, and your enmity to me resembles that of the eagles towards the salamanders, and the conspiracy of the birds to punish the salamanders with fire.
Behrâm: How was that?
[Behrûz then narrated the following:]
PARABLE.
‘A valiant eagle, whose eyry was on a lofty rock, daily sallied forth in quest of prey. Once he soared about for so long a time that he arrived in the country of the Hindus, in a region where a flock of salamanders dwelt. Two of these birds had just left their nests, and the eagle, being in a very famished state, immediately pounced upon them, killing one, and wounding the other grievously, who was, however, still able to fly to his companions, to induce them to attack the eagle, and to rescue the body of his murdered friend from the grasp of the robber. The eagle, who had been nearly disabled in this unequal contest, then reasoned with himself as follows: “It would be rank madness to fight single-handed against such a number of enemies, and therefore flight will be the better part of valour.” Accordingly he returned to his usual haunts, assembled his tribe, and said: “After the prowess of my beak, and the strength of my talons have thus been put to shame, there is no other remedy, if you refuse to aid me in avenging my wrongs, than to go among the owls, and to solicit their alliance.” The assembly of eagles responded to this appeal as follows: “We shall not fail to take signal vengeance for the blood which dripped from your beak, and for the injury done to your person, by accomplishing the total destruction of your enemies.” The army of eagles immediately assembled and started, attacked the salamanders, killing many of them, and taking the others prisoners. When the eagles had again returned to their homes they considered the best mode of punishing their captives, and unanimously agreed to destroy them by fire. They then threw them into a mine of sulphur, which they called the self-kindled fire, but to their utter surprise the intended victims exclaimed joyfully from the midst of the flames: “Unlucky wights! Do you not know that this species of death leads us to eternal life? You compared us to yourselves, and knew not that fire annihilates the wicked and the unjust, but cannot injure the righteous!” This event greatly astonished the assembly of eagles, and depressed their spirits, but there was no remedy for their grief.
‘You look at my associating with learned men from your own standpoint, and are in your folly quite unaware that such company is the greatest blessing to me. Whereas, on the other hand, it is considered a disgrace to a man when he is told that to become related to him would be a shame, and that therefore he is not to obtain in marriage the girl whose hand he covets.’
Behrâm: If my uncle does not accept me for his son-in-law I shall cut the thread of his life in two. I dread no mortal man so long as I am able to wield my sword.
Behrûz: Your scheme of wedding that girl has been thwarted by fate, which is irresistible. Surely you are not more powerful than the lion who was unable to rescue the fox from the claws of the eagle. If your uncle and father throw you into distress, how will you extricate yourself therefrom?
Behrâm: How was that?
[Then Behrûz narrated the following:]
PARABLE.
‘An eagle strong enough to pull up a whale from the innermost depths of the ocean, and to soar with an elephant in his beak to the zenith of the sky, perceived a fox, whom he intended to snatch up from the ground like a sparrow. Reynard, however, took refuge in a cave, and apprehending that his foe was lying in wait for him, was afraid to leave it; but when the pangs of hunger made themselves felt he crawled out with the greatest circumspection, and said to himself: “Ere I begin to look for food I must find someone to keep off from me this powerful enemy.” In the vicinity a brave lion happened to be taking his rest, and him the fox approached, saying humbly: “The shadow of kings is a sun of felicity, beneath which the oppressed find shelter from the calamities of fortune. Kings are the shadow of the Creator, and to them the helpless fly for refuge from the persecution of tyrants.” The lion replied: “If a rosebud lives in the shadow of my protection, the morning zephyr refrains from injuring it for fear of my displeasure.” The fox continued: “Your majesty has no subject more weak than myself. In the shadow of your majesty’s protection I found nourishment, lived, and was thankful. Some days have elapsed since an eagle is in search of my life, and hinders me from coming out of my lair to seek my daily maintenance.” The lion replied: “Do not go out of my sight, and if he attempts to injure you I shall annihilate him.” The fox continued: “Several days have elapsed since I have not broken my fast, and hunger has nearly taken me off my legs.” The lion said: “Sit down on my back till I catch a prey, and restore your strength by some food.” The fox accordingly sat upon the lion’s back, but the eagle, who was above them, rushed down upon the fox with the speed of lightning, and to his appeals for aid the lion could only reply: “As long as you were on earth I protected you, but I have no power in the air.”
‘This parable I have narrated to show that the decrees of fate cannot be eluded by human power or bravery.’
Behrâm: I shall injure neither our father nor uncle, but concentrate my whole resentment on yourself, because you have begun the contest and have hurled me into the vortex of despair. Can there be any act more despicable in this world than to deprive me of the mistress who is dearer to me than my own heart, or a sight more excruciating than to behold her in close familiarity with another man? It will now be proper for you to quench the fire of the calamity impending over you with the water of withdrawal from this marriage, or else I shall extinguish the hopes of your connubial felicity by wounding you mortally, and departing to a country where neither the king can imprison nor his minions reach me by punishment.
Behrûz: God forbid that you should fulfil your intentions! For, if you soar in the air with birds, or dive into the ocean with fishes, your destiny will bring you down from the sky by the arrow of its decrees, and will fish you out of the sea with the net of its laws. I know for certain that the misfortunes you are invoking over me will befall yourself, and that the evils you destine for me will recoil on your own head.
Behrâm: I shall extricate you from this labyrinth of contention, and shall lead you into the path of reconciliation, and to the mansions of peace, if you are so inclined. Separate yourself from my mistress.
Behrûz: He wanders indeed in a labyrinth whom you guide, and he is unlucky whose adviser you are. Should I walk on the road you point out, I would fare like the pigeon who asked the crow to point out the straight way to regain her native country.
Behrâm: How was that?
[Then Behrûz narrated the following:]
PARABLE.
Behrûz: I have heard that the Khalifah of Baghdâd had a carrier pigeon which was so fleet that it sought its food in Ferghânah, and drank its water in the river Nile. Sometimes it travelled to Rûm, and sometimes to Hindustân. The Khalifah loved this bird more than all his slaves, and if he had been able to scatter the moving and the fixed stars at his feet in lieu of grain, he would not have been sparing of them. Once this pigeon was bearing tidings from the King of Ma-vara-an-nahr [Transoxiana] to the Khalifah of Baghdâd. This happened at the season when the armies of winter had assailed the earth, and it had on account of the intense cold and dryness assumed the nature of a corpse, and had covered itself with the fur of ermine. The cold was so severe that the snow impeded the issue of the visual rays from the eyes, and the pigeon was fluttering hither and thither to discover landmarks which might guide her to her native country; all efforts, however, proved futile, because all the strokes of the sword of vision glanced off from the cuirass of the clouds. The poor pigeon then said to herself: ‘At a time when the world is white like the book [of misdeeds] of the guiltless, and the sky as black and cloudy as the hearts of sinners, I know not how to escape from this difficulty, and to regain the direction of my country.’ While the pigeon thus stood perplexed, she beheld a crow on the snow, like a black mole on the cheek of a beauteous maiden, and dressed in the sombre garments of a monk. This bird the pigeon respectfully approached, standing before it like a penitent in front of a hermit, whereon the following conversation ensued between them:
Crow: Whence comest and what wantest thou?
Pigeon: Begging pardon of your reverence, my trouble is a very great one. I am travelling from Khorâsân, but my native place is Baghdâd. When I came to this region I found the aspect of the country changed, and lost my way. May I trouble your worship to point out the road to Baghdâd, and to pardon me if I have committed any uncivility; for I am an utter stranger in these parts.
Now this crow happened to be on such intimate terms of friendship with a royal falcon, who had his nest on an adjacent ruined tower, that he took up the position in which he now was purposely to inform his friend of the approach of game by croaking very loudly, in return for which service the falcon always first presented the eyes of the victim to the crow as a titbit, and himself feasted on the other portions of the body. Accordingly the crow spoke thus to the pigeon:
Crow: I have been appointed by the Almighty to take my station in this place, to show the way to anyone who may have lost it, and thereby to procure eternal reward for myself. Seest thou the ancient tower opposite to thee?
Pigeon: Yes.
Crow: Arise, then, and alight on the tower, whence thou wilt perceive the country of E’râq, beauteous like the gardens of paradise, adorned with a multitude of fragrant plants, resembling the moles and mustachios of handsome youths.
The poor pigeon obeyed the suggestion of the crow, and flew to the tower, on which it had scarcely alighted, when it was strangled by the falcon.
Distich: When the crow points out the road
The cemetery will be your abode.
Behrûz: You would be a guide to me, as the crow was to the pigeon, and I shall by no means retract this marriage; the more so as I do not mean to disobey our uncle and father. Nor will they ever agree to your proposal; but if you consent to theirs, you may count on my fraternal affection.
Behrâm: See! I am going, and shall in revenge engage in illegal acts; and should I be brought to the foot of the gallows, and you, being wazir, were willing to save my life, I would not accept it at your hands.
After uttering these words, Behrâm rushed out and joined a number of vagabonds, whom he induced to aid him in his attempts to blast the hopes of his brother. When Behrûz obtained information of this conspiracy, he spoke to his uncle and father as follows: ‘This matrimonial scheme has thrown me into great danger.’ They rejoined: ‘How can that be? Such happiness would be coveted even by very high personages.’ Behrûz continued: ‘If anyone knows something about this matter, I ought to be able to appreciate the honour intended for me. Behrâm, however, has entered into an agreement with some vagabonds to embitter my life, and I do not know how I shall be able to escape from their persecutions. It will be best if I leave the country for a year or two, so as to keep my uncle’s daughter concealed, and for you to spread the report that I have fled with her to some unknown place. This will disappoint Behrâm and cool his love-fits, as well as his anger. If, on the other hand, I remain at home, enter into family connections, and neglect my studies, I shall lead a very useless life.’
The father and uncle agreed to this proposal, and Behrûz travelled during ten years in various countries, staying in different localities to accumulate knowledge. After his return from his travels, he first visited the capital, where he cultivated acquaintance with several learned men, who conceived so high an opinion of his attainments that they introduced him to the king, who, unwilling again to part with him, assigned to him a mansion for his use, with numerous attendants. The king was always melancholy because he had no offspring. On a certain occasion, however, a white falcon, happening to alight upon the battlements of the castle, Behrûz considered the circumstance to be a propitious omen, portending the birth of a child in the royal family. As one of the ladies of the harem was pregnant, the king became very hopeful, and ordered the falcon to be caught; but as all efforts proved fruitless during several days, and the bird usually perched daily on the battlement, the king requested Behrûz to devise a stratagem by which the falcon might be captured. Behrûz then proposed that the battlement should be demolished, and a figure representing a man erected in its stead. This was done; but when the bird arrived according to its usual custom, it seemed to be afraid; finding, however, that the figure was immovable, it settled thereon. Afterwards clothes were put upon the statue, which again caused some estrangement, until at last it also disappeared, and the falcon, laying aside all shyness, perched on it. Finally a living man was substituted for the statue, who succeeded in catching the falcon, to the great joy of the king, who praised Behrûz, and the latter replied: ‘Your majesty caught the falcon like the serpent the birds.’ The king asked: ‘How was that?’
PARABLE.
Behrûz said: ‘It is related in books that in Arabia there was a sandy desert, so hot that no bird ventured to live there. In the said desert there dwelt a large venomous serpent, of which all the beasts were in such terror that they could not sleep. The snake could catch no prey in that desert on account of the great heat, because even feeble birds and little grasshoppers eluded its grasp, so that it was much distressed, and soliloquized thus: “As long as any beast is alive it must eat, and although sustenance may be decreed by fate, and not in proportion to the appetite, it will not fall into the grasp of the recipient unless he works for it. As long as I remain in my lair, I shall receive the food destined for me only in imagination. I must jeopardize my life in the frying-pan of the sand, expose myself to the fire of the sun, and thus procure the food necessary for my support.” Accordingly the serpent went out, inserted its tail in the sand, and stood up motionless like a piece of wood growing out from the soil. The locusts and birds, who felt the hot sand very uncomfortable, imagined the serpent to be a stick, and, suspecting nought, alighted on its head. When the victim happened to be a grasshopper it was devoured immediately, but if a bird it was carried home in the evening and consumed at leisure. We have learnt this trick from the snake, and made use of it to catch the falcon.’
While the king was praising Behrûz, the news suddenly arrived that a beautiful infant had been born to his majesty. The king was so pleased with the fulfilment of the prediction of Behrûz that he distributed rich presents to everybody, and nominated him wazir; but he replied as follows: ‘May it please your majesty! The proximity of kings resembles the sea: the nearer a man is to it, the more insecure he will be from its waves; but it may also be likened to fire, which becomes the more dangerous in proportion to a man’s nearness to it. The courtiers who surround a monarch are apt to persecute honest men, and to scorch them with the fire of anger. The heart of a king is like a mirror, which reflects on its surface every object, without respect to its beauty or ugliness. The wrath of a monarch is like the fire-breath of a dragon, which spares no one. On the other hand, an individual who enjoys the favour of the king soon becomes haughty and overbearing towards others, so that he is a wise man who does not covet royal favour, and thus escapes all dangers entailed by it.’ To these objections the king replied as follows: ‘My servants are not addicted to envy or pride, but are governed by the dictates of sound reason. A king who admits envious and intriguing persons to his court hurts his own interests. I make these remarks to allay your suspicions. I hereby inform you that great prosperity is in store for you, and that I do not accept your excuses.’
There being no way of escape, Behrûz was compelled to assume the duties of wazir, which he discharged very assiduously and satisfactorily. One day the son of the king happened to play on the flat roof of the palace with a ball of silver, which ran to the brink of the parapet and fell through an aperture into the cave. The young prince then climbed over the parapet, and descended into the cave, where he found the ball; he was, however, unable to regain his former position. His mother, who had become aware of the dangerous plight of her son, stood below with outstretched arms, ready to catch him in case he should fall. Meanwhile a servant quickly made his appearance on the roof, pulled the boy up, and thus rescued him. The hands of the lady, however, remained outstretched, and became so stiffened that all the efforts of the physicians to reduce them to their natural state remained fruitless. In this emergency Behrûz was consulted, and his advice was this: ‘If your majesty will permit, I can easily cure this distemper now; but if it be allowed to take root, it will become incurable.’ The king assented, and both entered the harem. Behrûz first ordered the countenance and the hair of the lady to be uncovered, but as this proceeding caused no visible effect, he commanded the robe to be taken from her body; and this operation likewise made no impression upon the patient. Then Behrûz exclaimed: ‘Open the knot of her scarf!’ and when the unfamiliar hand of a stranger touched that spot, the lady suddenly dropped both her hands to secure her girdle, and the cure was perfect. The king, pleased with this happy result, presented magnificent gifts to Behrûz, and desired to know the reason of his method. Behrûz replied: ‘This disease originated from sudden grief, in consequence whereof a heavy substance descended into the joints at the moment the hands were uplifted, and kept them immovable; when, however, the hand of a stranger touched an improper spot of the body, the feeling of shame prevailed, and the natural heat having overcome and melted the said substance, the joints recovered their pristine elasticity.’ The king exclaimed: ‘Allah be praised, who has vouchsafed to bring me in contact with so excellent a man as you are, and I really do not know how to reward you.’ After this event the familiarity between the king and Behrûz increased, and the former, being desirous of seeing the birthplace of his wazir, they travelled to it together. When they arrived in the vicinity, Behrûz was so overcome by the recollections of his early years, and the thoughts about his father, uncle and brother, that he vented his emotions in a flood of tears. When the king perceived that the equanimity of Behrûz had been disturbed, and was informed of the cause, he said: ‘This is an occasion for joy, and not for grief, because you will soon meet your relatives.’ With this opinion Behrûz agreed, and proceeded in great state to the city; but when he entered it, he happened to pass near the place of execution, where he beheld the governor sitting in judgment, and in the act of punishing a number of thieves and burglars. Among these malefactors he caught sight of his own brother, and, overcome by his feelings, sued for mercy, and induced the judge to spare their lives. After his liberation, Behrâm joined the procession of the wazir, not knowing that it was the retinue of his own brother. When Behrâm reached the house of his father, he prostrated himself at the feet of Behrûz, and manifested sincere repentance for all he had said and done. The uncle and father, being ashamed of the misdeeds of Behrâm, had withdrawn into privacy; but when they were informed of the arrival of Behrûz, they hastened to meet him, together with Jauhar, and shared in his prosperity. On that occasion Behrûz said to Behrâm: ‘Do you now recollect telling me not to take any trouble to liberate you from the foot of the gallows, in case I should become wazir? At present you know for certain that the reward for study is exalted dignity, and for negligence a high gibbet.’
Let it not remain concealed from the reader that the advantages of learning are innumerable, and that, by the favour of the Almighty, learned men have under the government of the sovereign of Islâm—may Allah perpetuate his reign—attained the highest stations; and it may be said that their incomes were never before as large as at present; nor were literary establishments and students one-tenth part as well provided for as now. All these advantages are attributable to the liberality of the high potentate who is the cause of the composition of the present work, and the unparalleled excellencies of whose character will— if it pleases Allah, and time serves—be described by incontrovertible arguments. The time has, however, now arrived to give the history of the Ashkânians, and after them of the Sasanians, which are two dynasties of the Kings of Persia.
THE DYNASTY OF THE KINGS OF PERSIA, WHICH IS CALLED
ASHKÂNIAN.
It is necessary to know that the Ashkânians are also called Mulûk-ut-touâif [Kings of the nations], because Eskandar had appointed each of them to be governor of a nation, paying no tribute nor taxes to each other. They ruled these countries, and were succeeded by their children till the time of Ardeshir Babegân, between whom and Eskandar a period of five hundred years and a fraction had elapsed, according to the calculations of some historians.
According to the universally received opinion, the first of the Mulûk-ut-touâif was Ashak Bin Ashkân; some historians, however, not deserving of more credit, call him Ashak Bin Dârâ. Others, again, are of opinion that Ashak was one of those to whom Eskandar had given a kingdom. Some assert that, when Eskandar returned from the country of Erân, one of his governors crossed the Tigris, and conquered the realm as far as the limits of Rei, but that Ashak marched against him, and the Mulûk-ut-touâif aiding him, he expelled the governor of Eskandar, but nevertheless contented himself with his country, and the Mulûk-ut-touâif remained in their former possessions. They considered Ashak as their chief on account of the solidity of his judgment, but paid no tribute to him. He being the most renowned of them, the Mulûk-ut-touâif were called Ashkânians; but although the author of the present work took much trouble in examining historical works, he was unable to find their names in detail. Whatever notices he met with concerning them were all so contradictory that the accounts did not agree even about two of them. Hamdullah Mustoufi, the author of the Târikh Guzidah, and Hâfez Abru, of the Târikh Ja’fari, are two of the later historians, whose statements the author of this work has adopted in the history of the Mulûk-ut-touâif, as well as in the records of their names and titles but favour comes from Allah!
REIGN OF ASHAK BIN ASHKÂN.
Some narrate that he reigned after Eskandar, and that he agreed not to demand tribute from the surrounding kings, on condition of their writing in their Firmâns his name above their own. The following are some of his sayings: ‘Reconcile your enemies until you find an opportunity —that is to say, yield to an opponent till a favourable occasion presents itself when he enters your net, and you may then avenge yourself.—It is not advisable to be on bad terms with rich and powerful men.—The glory of a king consists in the multitude of his provinces.—To undertake to serve a king is very dangerous.’ He is said to have reigned twelve years.
REIGN OF SHÂPÛR BIN ASHAK.
He succeeded his father in the government, and it is recorded in the Târikh Ja’fari that he spent most of his time in the plains of Arabia. His queen was a descendant of Yusuf the veracious; he founded the city of Madâin [in reality two, Ctesiphon and Seleucia, on the opposite banks of the river], and built the iron bridge across the Tigris, which subsisted till the time of Kesra. Wais and Râmin252 lived during his reign. Shâpûr was a magnanimous, wise, and just prince, always engaged in the acquisition of knowledge, and in the discussion of philosophical themes, till the time of his death. According to Hâfez Abru, he reigned forty-two years, but according to Hamdullah Mustoufi, about sixty years, which is an ugly discrepancy between these two great historians. His epithet was ‘golden.’ A few of his sayings are as follows: ‘Ignorance is a misfortune which meets with no reward.—Skill and prudence become manifest in conquering the difficulties of life.’ It is said that the mission of I’sa—o. w. p.—took place in his time.
REIGN OF BEHRÂM BIN SHÂPÛR.
He became king after his father, founded a town in the vicinity of Anbâr, and another on the spot where Rûmah is at present, all the foundations whereof he laid in cut stone. He also built a large fire-temple, and reigned eleven years. His epithet was Gudarz.
REIGN OF BALLÂSH BIN BEHRÂM.
He governed by order of his father. His reign lasted fifteen years. He was a just and happy prince. During his reign a number of the children of Esrâil were on account of their wickedness transmuted into apes by order of the Almighty, and after seven days surrendered their souls to the Creator.
REIGN OF HORMUZ BIN BALLÂSH BIN BEHRÂM.
It is related that his predecessor abdicated in his favour during his lifetime. Hormuz was a moral, valiant, and pious monarch. It is recorded that while he was one day engaged in chasing a fawn, the latter took refuge in the mountains, and was followed by its pursuer. At last the animal disappeared in a hole, but Hormuz alighted from his steed and searched for it. When he had penetrated into the cave about the length of an arrow-shot, he discovered four apartments, each of which contained a vase standing on a golden pedestal. On the top of each vase there was a phial crowned with a precious gem. There was also a brass plate fixed, which contained the following inscription in Hebrew characters: ‘This is the treasury of Feridûn.’ After leaving this place, Hormuz convoked his army, and distributed all the treasure among the soldiers. According to some accounts, he reigned nineteen years. Qâdesiah and Naharvân are said to have been built by him. In the Târikh Ja’fari it is related that during his time Yûnas the prophet—p. b. o. h.—had received his mission. He succeeded his father, and was a just prince. He had forty wives, and reigned forty years. In his time Sâdaq and Sadûq went to Antakiah to invite the people to follow the religion of I’sa—o. w. p.
REIGN OF NÛSH BIN BALLÂSH.
He was a monarch who loved his subjects. In the Târikh Guzidah it is related that after Hormuz his brother Nursi reigned fourteen years. In the Nizâm-ut-touarikh it is stated that Nursi reigned forty years; in the Târikh Ja’fari, however, no mention at all is made of Nursi, and his place is occupied by Nûsh Bin Ballâsh, as recorded in the present work; God, however, knows best the true state of the case.
FIRUZ BIN HORMUZ.
He became king after his uncle, but after he had sat on the throne seventeen years the oppression of his governors surpassed all bounds, so that the people assembled, took him down from the throne, blinded his eyes, and installed Ballâsh in his place.
BALLÂSH BIN HORMUZ.
When he ascended the throne he conquered a portion of the country, succeeded his ancestors in the government, and founded Lâr. He reigned twelve years, and appointed on his deathbed one of his cousins to succeed him.
KHOSRÛ BIN BALLÂSH BIN NURSI BIN HORMUZ.
He was a prudent sovereign, but so uxorious that he did not spare even his own sister. It is said that he built a palace seven stories high, and that he took his seat in the uppermost of them, where he caroused, and from whence he precipitated criminals to the ground. One day he ate treacle, and died from purging. Some assert that he reigned forty years. Sirjân was built by him. In the Târikh Ja’fari it is stated that the event of the seven sleepers occurred in his time.
REIGN OF BALLÂSH BIN BALLÂSH.
He reigned twenty-four years, and built Târum. In the Târikh Guzidah it is stated that he was the brother of Khosrû Bin Ballâsh, and that one night an angel said to him: ‘Thy death is in thine own hand.’ These words caused him great sorrow, and when he one day entered a tent, and was leaning against a pole, it collapsed, and the top-ornament falling on his head, killed him on the spot. Shamsûn the hermit is said to have lived during his time.
REIGN OF ARDVÂN.
In the Târikh Ja’fari it is stated that when he reigned three years elapsed and no rain fell. This calamity led him and his people to repent, whereon the Almighty again sent rain, and the world flourished. In the Târikh Guzidah it is related that after he had reigned thirteen years he was killed in the war with the Ashkânians. From the same work we also learn that the Ashkânians here meant were another dynasty of the Mulûk-ut-touâif, whose genealogy ascends to Faribarz Kâvus. These kings are eight in number,253 as follows:
REIGN OF AULÂD BIN ASHKÂN.
He waged war against the Ashkânians, deprived them of their possessions, and became sole king. He made the same arrangement with the Mulûk-ut-touâif which Ashak Bin Ashkân had entered into, and reigned twenty-three years. In the Târikh Ja’fari it is narrated that in his time all nations became idolaters, and that the Almighty sent Jarjis [Georgius] to them.
REIGN OF BALLÂSH BIN ASHKÂN.
He became king after his brother, and reigned twelve years. In the Târikh Guzidah we read that I’sa—u. w. p. —was born in his time; but God knows best.
REIGN OF GUDARZ BIN BALLÂSH.
Some state that he avenged the death of Yahia [John] upon the sons of Esrâil. He reigned thirty years, and is called Gudarz the Great.
REIGN OF BIJON BIN GUDARZ.
He reigned twenty years after his father.
REIGN OF GUDARZ BIN BIJON.
He reigned ten years after his father.
REIGN OF NURSI BIN BIJON.
In his time the Rûmis [Romans] attacked Erân, but he repelled them with the aid of the Mulûk-ut-touâif. He reigned eleven years.
REIGN OF ARDVÂN BIN NURSI.
He was a powerful king, and the last of the Mulûk-ut-touâif. He reigned thirty years prosperously, but was slain in a battle against Ardeshir, the first king of the Sasanians.
The author of this work observes that the short accounts concerning the history of the Mulûk-ut-touâif have been taken from Persian books deserving of less credit than the work from which he has taken only their names and epithets, as follows [in Arabic], from the Mufâtih: ‘They are the third dynasty, and have been called thus [i.e., Ashkânians] because they were the descendants of Ashak Bin Ashak, whose epithet was Ashkân. Then [came] his son254 Shâpûr, whose epithet is zarîn, meaning ‘golden.’ Then his son Behrâm, whose epithet is Gudarz. Then his son Bijon, whose epithet is Alssâlâr [commander]. Then his son Behrâm, whose epithet is Alroushan—‘the shining.’ Then his son Behrâm, whose epithet is Berâd, meaning ‘noble.’ Then his son Nursi, whose epithet is Shikâri [hunter]. Then his son Ardvân, whose epithet is Ahmar [rubicund]. In the Mufâtih it is related that Ardeshir was the first king who bore the title of Shahanshâh, and having invented a belt, girded himself therewith.
THE FOURTH DYNASTY OF THE KINGS OF PERSIA,
WHICH IS CALLED THAT OF THE SASANIANS.
REIGN OF ARDESHIR BÂBEGÂN255
[ARTAXERXES].
Some relate that during his reign the Messiah—u. w. p. —was sent, and having despatched a messenger to Ardeshir, he invited him to embrace Islâm, whereon the king made a secret profession of his religion [sic]. All historians agree that Ardeshir Bâbeg Bin Sâsân was the youngest scion of Sâsân Bin Behmen Bin Esfendiâr, but they are at variance concerning the manner of his appearance. If all the opinions on this subject were to be mentioned, our object would be frustrated; therefore we shall content ourselves with one of them.
Some historians assert that Ardvân was the last of the Ashkânian kings, and also that he usually spent the summer at Esfahân, and the winter at Ahvâz. Others state that his capital was Rei; that he entrusted the government of Fârs to one of his great Amirs, the government of Dârâbgard to his chief eunuch Piri, and the superintendence of the fire-temples was left to the father of Ardeshir Bâbeg. At that time the Governor of Fârs heard that the youngest son of Bâbeg manifested great signs of intelligence and bravery; therefore he requested to be entrusted with the care of his education. Accordingly, the young prince remained with the Governor of Fârs, and having made great progress in the two above-mentioned qualities, Ardeshir was joined to Piri in the government of Dârâbgard, and ordered to take entire charge thereof in case of the decease of Piri. This event actually took place a short time afterwards, in conformity with the statement of the astrologers, who had predicted to Ardeshir that he would become the sovereign of the inhabited world, and with the words of an angel, who had appeared to him in a dream, saying: ‘I congratulate you on the subjugation of kingdoms.’ Accordingly he wrote a letter to his father to watch the opportunity and to kill the Viceroy of Ardvân, who was governing Fârs. The father complied with his advice, and installed his eldest son Shâpûr on the throne of government, who was obeyed by all the sons of Bâbeg except by Ardeshir, who refused to do so even after the decease of Bâbeg, in consequence whereof Shâpûr despatched couriers to him, requiring him to pay homage to the new sovereign.
The refusal of Ardeshir to submit to Shâpûr induced the latter to march against his brother with an army. When, however, the forces were about to encounter each other, some of the brothers, relatives, and courtiers betrayed Shâpûr, and delivered him into the hands of Ardeshir, who took Estakhar [Persepolis], and dismissed, by the advice of his wazir, those who had captured Shâpûr, to their own countries. Then Ardeshir marched to Kermân, and fiercely attacked Bellâsh, the governor of it, who, however, died. The conqueror then marched to Bam, the ruler of which he killed; he also captured and similarly punished the kings of the surrounding provinces, and founded a new town in every one of them. When Ardvân was informed of these events, he despatched an insulting letter to Ardeshir, who replied as follows: ‘I shall vanquish thee, and shall separate thy body from thy head, which I shall send to the fire-temple. Verily supreme power is in the gift of God, and He bestows it upon him who civilizes the land and cherishes his subjects.
Distich: God grants His gifts to those
Who allow the people to repose.’
Ardeshir then continued his victorious expedition, but the correspondence between these two sovereigns ceased only when the plain of Hormuzân was chosen to be the battle-field, which, however, Ardeshir reached before the appointed time, fortified it with entrenchments, and provided it with water. Ardvân likewise made his appearance soon afterwards with an army more numerous than ants or locusts, but lost his life in the battle which ensued. After this victory Ardeshir was immediately proclaimed Shahanshâh, and gradually conquered Hamadan, the mountainous country, and Armenia. Then he marched to Mousul, subjugated all that country, and built a large city to the east of the river Tigris. After that he marched back from the plains to Estakhar, whence he proceeded to Sejestân, to Jorjân, Nishapûr, Merv, Balkh, and Khovarezm. When he had subjugated the last-mentioned country he again marched back towards Fârs, and received from all the surrounding kings presents, as tokens of their submission, except from the ruler of Bahrain, who refused to pay him allegiance; when, however, Ardeshir marched against him, he was so terrified that he precipitated himself from a high tower to the ground, and thus perished by his own act. Having taken possession of Bahrain, Ardeshir went to Madâin, and abdicated during his lifetime the government in favour of his son Shâpûr. The duration of Ardeshir’s reign after Ardvân amounted to fourteen years, and before him to twelve. Ardeshir is said to have been one of the kings who had subjugated the inhabited world, and had founded great cities.
Many excellent and approved maxims are attributed to him, some of which are as follows: ‘A kingdom cannot subsist except by men, and men cannot subsist except by property, and property cannot subsist except by civilization, and civilization cannot subsist except by justice.—A rapacious lion is better than a tyrannical king, and a tyrannical king is better than perpetual revolutions.—A righteous king is better than abundant rain.—He is the worst sovereign whom good men dread and the wicked love.—Religion is strengthened by kings, and kings by religion.— Rely not on this world, because everyone must leave it; happiness, however, in the next world cannot be attained except by making good use of our life in the present one.’
Let it not remain concealed that Shâh Ardeshir was one of the Kings of Persia, distinguished by his maxims, which he left to posterity. One of his literary compositions bears the title of Kâr-nâmah, and contains descriptions of his victorious campaigns in the inhabited world. Another of his books he wrote for the instruction of the people, and surnamed it Adab-ul-a’ish, which contains practical rules of life and dietetical maxims. It is related that police-officers kept Ardeshir informed of everything going on in his realm, to such a degree that he was able to tell persons whom he admitted to his audiences what they had been saying or doing on the preceding day. He also maintained spies at foreign courts, who reported to him everything he wished to know. It is also related that the subjects of no monarch were so afraid of their ruler as the people of the dominions of Ardeshir dreaded him. It was his custom, when appointing an envoy to a foreign court, to despatch another after him, and to draw his conclusions after obtaining the reports of both. He also was in the habit of saying that many armies are destroyed, much property is alienated, and many alliances are broken, in consequence of the mismanagement of ambassadors. He considered it incumbent on a monarch to possess the following qualities: 1. High aspirations. 2. Affability. 3. Self-restraint in anger. 4. High regard for the lives and property of his subjects. A king ought during the time of his prosperity to keep in mind the state of those who are in distress. When he is joyful he ought to remember those who are plunged in sorrow, and in his strength he ought to regard those who are weak and helpless. Any king possessing the laudable qualities just mentioned will enjoy permanent dominion, and govern happy subjects.
REIGN OF SHÂPÛR BIN ARDESHIR.256
Chroniclers state that when Ardeshir prevailed over the realms of Erân, he followed the advice of his grandfather Sâsân, and killed the whole progeny of the Mulûk-ut-touâif; others relate that the cause of this proceeding must be ascribed to the astrologers, who had predicted that the dominions of Ardeshir would be inherited by the children of Ashak. After having extirpated the just-mentioned princes and princesses, Ardeshir happened one day to perceive a very handsome girl in his interior apartments, who informed him that she was one of the attendants in the harem. The king fell in love with this maid, had sexual connection with her, and when their familiarity had greatly increased, she informed him that she was of the progeny of Aulâd Bin Ashak. This information so distressed Ardeshir, that he called for his wazir, and said to him, ‘Lodge her underground,’ which words amounted to an order for capital execution. When the wazir had taken the woman home, and was about to kill her, she informed him of her pregnancy by his majesty. Accordingly midwives were called to examine her, and these confirmed her statement. In this dilemma the prime minister resorted to the expedient of preparing a subterraneous apartment, of installing the lady therein, and of amputating his own sexual organ, which he then preserved in a casket. After that he waited on Ardeshir, and spoke as follows: ‘I have executed your majesty’s orders, and have lodged her in the bowels of the earth. In this casket I bring a pledge, which I request to be sealed with the royal signet, and deposited in the treasury.’ The king assented, the wazir returned home with a tranquil mind, and in due time the lady gave birth to a son, who shed rays, foreboding grandeur. Unwilling to give a name to the child without the king’s orders, the wazir called him Shâpûr, i.e., ‘royal scion,’ and waited for an opportunity to inform his majesty of what had taken place. Several years elapsed, however, until the king happened to fall into a deep state of melancholy, and said one day to the wazir: ‘I have conquered the inhabited world, but have no son to succeed me in the government.’ The wazir replied: ‘Let your majesty not be dismayed on this account, for your majesty has a noble son in my charge.’ The king was astonished at this piece of news, but the wazir refused to give any information unless the casket was produced, and his own person examined. The king agreed to both these conditions, and his amazement became still greater when he discovered that his prime minister had become a eunuch, and that his sexual organ was in the casket. The wazir then explained that when the lady had informed him of her condition, he thought proper to spare her life, and to emasculate himself, in order to avoid all possible suspicions about the paternity of the infant. The wazir continued as follows: ‘When the astrologers were consulted and had taken the horoscope of the prince, they said, “From the position of the heavenly bodies it appears that this child will become a powerful and just king, and that he will inherit the realms of Kaiomarth, the Peshdâdian;” accordingly, I offered thanks to God, and cherished the prince, who is at present in the best condition.’ The king was so delighted with this piece of information that he ordered Shâpûr to be brought to his presence, in the company of one thousand children of his own age, and dressed in the same garments. This having been done, the king was able immediately to pick out his own son, and the tongue of the circumstances uttered the following distich in conformity with the scene:
To-day the king of the assembly of darlings is one;
If there be a thousand darlings, the heart-ravisher is but one.
The king then ordered a Chugân257 to be given to each boy to play in the adjoining premises. The children obeyed, but when the ball happened to fall into one of the royal halls, none of them ventured to go and fetch it except Shâpûr, whom Ardeshir immediately adopted as his son, and who proved to be a just and benevolent sovereign when he attained the royal dignity, praised and beloved by everybody. In the beginning of his reign he said: ‘Whenever I make a statement on any subject, no one is to oppose it before earnestly considering its advantageous or disadvantageous consequences.’ It is related that, after spreading out the carpet of justice and beneficence, he attacked and subdued with his army all his opponents, and one of his conquests during his reign was the taking of the fortress of Khazar.
CONQUEST OF THE CITY OF KHAZAR.
The principal historians state that between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates there was a city named Khazar, ruled by an Arab governor named Zirân, who had subjugated the whole of the country of Mesopotamia. While Shâpûr was absent in Khorâsân, this Arab had invaded the adjoining plains of his realm; but as soon as the king returned, he attacked Zirân and besieged him two years in the fortress of Khazar, which he was unable to subjugate, until one day the daughter of Zirân, who was a maiden of unsurpassed beauty, happened to catch sight of him from one of the battlements, and was so captivated by the charms of his person that she sent him the following message: ‘If the mighty king will accept me as a servant in his harem, I shall cause him to obtain possession of the fortress;’ at which Shâpûr was so rejoiced that he despatched to her the following answer: ‘If the princess will fulfil her promise, I shall in return for this service make her the chief ornament of my harem.’ After this agreement the maiden, whose name was Nazirah, sent the instruction to the king, to take hold of a turtle-dove and to write on its foot a letter with the blood of a virgin, and then to liberate it so that it should alight on a tower. This having been done, a tower of the fortress collapsed, the city was taken, Shâpûr killed Zirân, and sent Nazirah to his harem.
It is related that some days afterwards Nazirah was not able to sleep during the whole night on account of the pain she felt in her side. When the morn dawned her couch was examined, and a rose-leaf found on it. Shâpûr, astonished at this event, asked what her food had been in her father’s house, which made her body so sensitive. She replied: ‘The marrow of the bones of lambs and Egyptian vegetables. In lieu of water I drank pure wine, which may be described so bright that:
Distich: If a fairy soared in the night across its rays,
She could not hide herself from mortal eyes.’
Shâpûr said: ‘As you have acted so treacherously towards your own father, what good may be expected from you?’ Then he ordered the hair of Nazirah to be fastened to the legs of a race-horse, which immediately galloped away, inflicting the punishment due to the parricide maiden.
After the conquest of the fortress of Khazar, Shâpûr marched with his army to Nassibîn, which he likewise besieged, but was unable to conquer, until admonished in a dream ‘to order his army to purify their hearts from all deceit and falsehood, and to turn in humble supplication to the Qiblah of their aspirations, whereon success would crown their efforts.’ Accordingly Shâpûr harangued his warriors, and guided them to humiliation. Then a general onslaught was made, a tower of the citadel immediately fell down, and the whole fortress was conquered.
Thence Shâpûr marched to the country of Rûm, the greater portion of which he conquered. Returning afterwards to his own dominions, he founded several large cities. Towards the end of his reign, Mâni the Zendiq, who was an exquisite painter, laid claim to prophetship; but when Shâpûr summoned him to his presence, he fled; Masu’di, however, states that at first Shâpûr made a profession of the religion of Mâni, but afterwards rejected it. The duration of the reign of Shâpûr amounted to thirty-one-years.258
It is related that Shâpûr was so liberal as to be accused of prodigality, but he replied: ‘He alone is truly liberal who accounts gold and stones to be of the same value.’ He also said: ‘The conversation of a wise man is wealth, but the words of a fool are a loss to the hearer.’ Also: ‘There is no innocence except by the grace of God, no meekness except by His support, and no decision except by consultation.’
REIGN OF HORMUZ BIN SHÂPÛR.
He was a good, intelligent, and brave sovereign, resembling Ardeshir in features and in character. Historians state that when Ardeshir had killed Maharak, who was one of the kings of Persia, he attempted also to extirpate his entire progeny, because the astrologers had predicted that from it a man would arise and attain the supreme government of Erân. Therefore the daughter of Maharak fled from the wrath of Ardeshir, and took refuge with a shepherd in a desert. Shâpûr, who was hunting, alighted one day near the cottage of this shepherd, and asked for a drink of water, which was presented to him by this maiden, who was very beautiful. Being asked, the shepherd pretended that she was his own daughter, whereon Shâpûr, who had fallen in love with her, took her to his palace. To his astonishment, however, she repelled his amorous blandishments; but when pressed, avowed that she was the daughter of Maharak, and dreaded the resentment of Ardeshir. When, however, Shâpûr promised that he would keep the matter secret, she yielded to his passion, the first fruit whereof made its appearance in due time by the birth of Hormuz. They kept their marriage, as well as the birth of their infant, secret, until one night Ardeshir came to the house of Shâpûr, saw the child, and asked whose it was. Shâpûr then informed his father of his marriage, and Ardeshir was so glad that he immediately acknowledged Hormuz to be his grandson, and exclaimed: ‘Praise be to God, I am now relieved of my apprehensions concerning the prediction of the astrologers.’
When Shâpûr ascended the throne, after the decease of his father Ardeshir, he sent his beloved son to Khorâsân. Hormuz went to that country, and acquitted himself so well of the duty of aiding the friends and humbling the enemies of the Government, that he secured the esteem of all parties. Some envious persons, however, who were anxious to ingratiate themselves with Shâpûr, reported to him that Hormuz was meditating treachery; but when the latter heard this, he amputated his own right hand, sending it to his father with the following message: ‘I did this to show that I shall never stretch out my hand to covet supreme power,’ it being customary in those times that a person maimed in a similar manner could not become king. When Shâpûr received the message, he was much grieved, and returned the following answer: ‘If you cut up your whole body, you will nevertheless remain a prince and heir to my throne.’ Then he summoned him to his presence, and overwhelmed him with kindness.
When Shâpûr died, Hormuz ascended the throne,259 but retained all the governors and officers of his father in their employments, and departed this life after a short reign of one year and ten days. The following are his sayings: ‘A man not possessing these five qualities is unworthy to be a sovereign, namely: (1) He must have foresight enough to perceive the sequels of affairs in the beginning; (2) he must be cautious enough to abstain from all improper acts; (3) he must be so confident of his own powers and bravery as not to be disconcerted in any emergency; (4) he must strictly fulfil whatever he promises; (5) he must be strong-minded enough not to be influenced by any superstitions or rumours.’ It is narrated that one of the towns founded by him was Râmhormuz, and his epithet was ‘the valiant.’
REIGN OF BEHRÂM BIN HORMUZ.
He was an extremely meek and kind sovereign. When he ascended the throne, he convoked his subjects, and harangued them as follows: ‘We keep treasures for our subjects to aid them in time of need, and we maintain standing armies to protect them all from the assaults of enemies.’ The people replied: ‘We trust that your majesty will govern us well.’ And he continued: ‘I pray to God, on whom I entirely rely, to vouchsafe me the favour to spread out the carpet of liberality, wherewith to cover your poverty.’ He was so good-natured that he loved all his subjects. Some chroniclers assert that Mâni the painter went during the reign of Shâpûr to Hindustân, but returned again to Erân during the reign of Behrâm Bin Hormuz, who killed him.
RECORD OF MÂNI THE PAINTER.
In some books it is related that when Mâni the Zendiq heard of I’sa—o. w. p.—having said, ‘After me the Fâruqleet [Paraclete] will be sent,’ he imagined that he himself was meant, although that sublime word is one of the names of his lordship the prophet [Muhammad] o. w. bl., etc. Accordingly he set himself up as a prophet, produced a book which he called the Injil [Evangel], and alleged that it had been revealed from heaven. Masu’di states that Shâpûr at first made a profession of his religion, but afterwards rejected it, and so persecuted him that he fled by way of Kashmir to India, whence he proceeded to Turkestân and Khatâ [China].
Mâni was a very skilful painter, and is said to have been able to trace with his finger a circle of five cubits in diameter with such accuracy that, when the circumference was examined with compasses, no error was found therein.260 In the country of Hindustân and Khatâ he acquired great renown by his pictures. He was always wandering about, and it is said that during his travels he happened to discover a cave in a mountain, with a pleasant climate and a spring of salubrious water. The said cave had but one aperture, and having secretly accumulated provisions enough for one year, he informed his disciples that he would take his departure to heaven, where he would remain during one year, and then, returning, would bring information from the Almighty. He said to his friends, ‘Expect me in the second year, in a certain place, near such and such a cave,’ and then disappeared from their sight. He entered the above - mentioned cave, and occupied himself during a whole year in painting wonderful figures on a table, which he called the ‘Arjank of Mâni,’ and which he held in his hand when he again reappeared among the people, after the period of his seclusion had expired. Everyone who saw the table exclaimed:
Distich: ‘Time brings forth images, varied in kind,
But none like those portrayed in our mind.’
When the people manifested their astonishment at the picture, Mâni exclaimed: ‘I brought it from heaven, that it might be a miracle.’ The people accepted his religion, and Mâni travelled to Persia, under the impression that he would be able to deceive the people thereof likewise. When he arrived in Erân he met Behrâm, and invited him to make profession of his religion.261 The righteous sovereign at first lent a willing ear to his pretensions, in order to set him at ease, and to allow him to assemble his followers. Then he convoked the U’lâma of the realm to dispute with Mâni, who was, however, unable to answer them; and when his erroneous and infidel views became manifest to all, he was invited to revoke them, but as he refused to do so, Behrâm ordered him to be flayed alive, and to be hanged on the public gate for an example. His disciples were also persecuted and punished. The reign of Behrâm amounted to three years and three months. His surname was ‘the beneficent king,’ and he is said to have been the most skilled veterinary surgeon of his time.
REIGN OF BEHRÂM BIN BEHRÂM.
On account of the great love Behrâm Bin Hormuz entertained towards his son, he called him by his own name, and nominated him his successor. Some state that in the beginning of his reign this sovereign was inclined to tyranny, and oppressed the rich as well as the poor to such an extent that the chief military officers intended to remove him from the government. When the Mobed of Mobeds heard of their intention, he said: ‘You must unanimously leave the service of the king until matters mend.’ Accordingly, not merely the chamberlains and higher officials, but even the carpet-spreaders, gate-keepers, table-servants, and others disappeared, and Behrâm, unable to find a man to wait upon him [one night] till the morning dawned, was much distressed. Meanwhile the Mobed of Mobeds made his appearance with the customary salutation, and was received by the king in a very friendly manner, but surprised him by his taciturnity, so that he said: ‘Thy greeting is like that of a friend, but thy behaviour like that of an enemy.’ Hereon the Mobed craved permission to speak, and having obtained it, said: ‘I am astonished that, in contrast to the beautiful personal appearance granted to thee by the Almighty, thy demeanour is so shamefully oppressive that no one entertains friendship for thee, and all are thine enemies.’ After this preliminary remark, the Mobed commenced to rehearse the lives of previous sovereigns, and said: ‘Their good qualities were the cause of the permanency of their reigns.’ Then he narrated to him the history of Eskandar, of Ardeshir, and of Behmen Bin Esfendiar, which aroused the king from the sleep of carelessness to such a degree that he promised to follow the example of his ancestors, and never to swerve from the path of justice. When he had spoken thus far, the nobles and Amirs suddenly entered the hall, and followed up the advice of the Mobed with their own, which made so lasting an impression upon Behrâm that he lived according to it till the end of his reign, which lasted from about fifteen to seventeen years or more, according to various statements. His title was ‘Sakân-Shâh,’ namely, ‘King of Seistân.’ He used to say that the world is perishable, and that wealth is held only as a loan. He had two sons, Nursi and Behrâm.
REIGN OF BEHRÂM BIN BEHRÂM BIN BEHRÂM.
This sovereign is also called ‘Triple Behrâm,’ and some historians relate that he was Governor of Seistân during the lifetime of his father; the majority of them, however, do not describe the reign of the Triple Behrâm. Ebn Athir, however, and Hafez Abru state that on the day when Behrâm Bin Behrâm Bin Behrâm ascended the throne, he said: ‘We have a right to the throne, because we are of the royal race, and all our efforts will be devoted to the cause of making our people happy.’ At these words he was interrupted by the applause of the people and the army, whereon he continued: ‘I put my trust in God, by whose favour all affairs are regulated. If we are spared we shall live in such a manner with you that everyone who hears about us will praise us; but in case I should come to a premature end, I hope the Lord will not forsake you.’ Hâfez Abru likewise states that his reign is by some considered to have lasted nine years, but in the Shâhnâmah it is set down at four years only.
REIGN OF NURSI BIN BEHRÂM.
He was the son of Behrâm the second, and brother of Behrâm the third. When he ascended the throne, he promised to govern righteously the subjects whom God had entrusted to his care. He proved to be a very beneficent and religious monarch, although he was much addicted to sport and play. It is said that when he had attained the supreme power in Erân, he appointed an able viceroy over each province, encouraged men of intellect, and removed the officials who had enjoyed authority during his father’s reign. In the Târikh Moa’jum it is related that he abdicated the throne in favour of his son Hormuz, and took refuge from the changing fortunes of this world under the shadow of the beneficence of his Creator. According to the most authentic statements he reigned nine years. His epithet was ‘The mighty hunter,’ and his motto: ‘Liberality is the most excellent treasure, contentment the greatest wealth, and love the closest kinship.’
REIGN OF HORMUZ BIN NURSI.
In the beginning of his reign he was morose and ill-natured. When he ascended the throne he convoked his subjects, and said: ‘Take care to pay your taxes regularly to my officers, if you wish to escape my wrath.’ To these words the people replied shouting: ‘May God grant thee favour, and make thy subjects obedient to thee, because these two things will be very necessary during thy reign.’ Understanding from this utterance what feelings prevailed in the assembly, he continued: ‘As before this time the civil and military government of the realm was in the hands of another, some persons have suffered by my severity, which, however, I have now changed to leniency, because, having become the sole ruler of the kingdom, love for all my subjects animates my breast.’ At these words all the people prostrated themselves to the ground, unwilling to rise until requested to do so; and from that time he governed with much justice.
His liberality is said to have been so extraordinary that in his sight gold, rubies, and stones were of the same value. In his horoscope building was predicted, wherefore he never looked at a ruin without causing it to be rebuilt. It is related that Hormuz had married the daughter of the King of Kâbul, but this lady constantly refused to have any familiar intercourse with Hormuz, who became so vexed that he sent a messenger to his wazir with the question: ‘What is to be done to a person constantly disobeying the sovereign?’ The wazir happening to be absent from the house, his son sent the reply: ‘Such a person ought to be punished with death.’ A short time afterwards Hormuz again made amorous proposals to his queen, which she again repelled, therefore he killed her. Repentance, however, overtook him, which he kept secret for a time, but one day asked the above question from his wazir, and received the answer: ‘Any person disobeying the behests of a righteous king ought to suffer capital punishment, except a woman, a child, a drunken man, and a fool.’ The king again asked: ‘What is the punishment of him who causes the blood of an innocent person to be shed?’ The wazir replied: ‘Death!’ Accordingly the king ordered the son of the wazir to be hanged on a gibbet, and commanded the people to report what the latter would say on beholding the sight. When the wazir arrived at the spot, he exclaimed: ‘What am I to say concerning a man with whom I am unable to contend either in this world or in the next? Not in this because he is my king, and not in the next because the right is on his side.’ These words having been reported to the king, he consoled the wazir, and ordered his son to be taken down from the gibbet and decently buried. According to the statement of the author of the ‘Meadows of Gold,’262 this king reigned seven years and five months. His epithet was ‘Mountaineer.’
REIGN OF SHÂPÛR ZULLÂKTÂF.263
After Hormuz had departed to the abode of eternity, without leaving a child who might become the heir of the kingdom, the Erânians became apprehensive that the realm would fall into the hands of strangers. They nevertheless did not give up all hopes, but inquired whether any of the ladies of the royal harem were pregnant. Being examined, the mother of Shâpûr said: ‘I am in a state of pregnancy, and I believe that my infant will be a male, because it is extremely light, does not remain quiet, and moves on the right side of my body.’ When the grandees of Persia were made aware of these circumstances, they suspended the royal diadem above the head of the mother of Shâpûr, and girded, according to custom, their loins in her service. Some assert that Hormuz was aware of the pregnancy of the lady, and that the astrologers and soothsayers had spoken thus to him: ‘From thy loins a son will issue, who will inherit the kingdom, will subdue potentates and rebels, and will for a long time administer civil and military affairs.’ On this account Hormuz is said to have left instructions to the ministers of the country to pay allegiance to his promised son.
In short, only a brief time had elapsed after the demise of Hormuz, when a brilliant star, endued with a countenance like the sun, and a mind like Jupiter, made its appearance on the firmament of nobility. That glorious infant was, with the consent of the grandees and nobles of the kingdom, named Shâpûr; the coins were struck, and the Khutbah was read [in mosques] in his name. The Amirs and nobles, as well as the officers of the army, went daily twice to the palace, and the wazirs administered the government as usual. On that occasion the rumour spread in the surrounding countries that, there being no sovereign in Persia, the inhabitants are the subjects of an infant, who is as yet in the cradle. Therefore the rulers of adjacent countries coveted the realm of Erân. Arrogant leaders among the Arabs, Rûmis and Turks, but more especially the tribe of A’bdulqais, began, on account of its vicinity, to plunder the country, so that the flame of the wickedness of the Arabs was for some time blazing in Persia; but when Shâpûr had attained the age of [only] five years, his intelligence and generosity began to manifest themselves.
The details of this statement are as follows: When the royal prince happened at that time [i.e., the age of five years] one night to be awakened by the noise of a crowd, he asked for the reason of the tumult, and was told that it arose on account of passengers from opposite directions meeting each other on the bridge. Shâpûr remarked: ‘This may be easily remedied. Let another bridge be built, so that those who come may use one, and those who go the other.’ The Mobeds who had heard these words of the royal prince drew their [favourable] conclusions. When he was between six and seven years of age, he became fond of riding on horseback, and of playing chugân.264 At the age of eight years he made himself acquainted with the art of government, and began to reign [!]. When he was sixteen years old he took one thousand Persian warriors; but according to others he selected four thousand, and marched against a horde of Arabs who had invaded the frontiers of Persia, and were engaged in killing and plundering. He fell upon them like a sudden judgment, and slew every one of the invaders whom he was able to catch, so that only those who had escaped from his sword fled back to their country, no trace of them being left on the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris. Then he prepared boats, on which he embarked and reached Qotaif. In the country of Bahrain he made great havoc. Thence he marched to Hajar, where he killed so many of the Beni Tamim, and Bakr Bin Wâbel, and A’bdulqais, and of other tribes which were there, that he became tired of exterminating them, but ordered the shoulder-blades of the [captive] Arabs to be perforated, and strings to be drawn through them, wherefore he was surnamed Shâpûr Zullâktâf [Shâpûr of the shoulder-blades].
It is recorded in the ‘Meadows of Gold,’ that when the Beni Tamim fled from his wrath, they intended to carry with them also A’mru Bin Tamim, who had reached the age of three hundred years, but that he refused to comply, saying: ‘Leave me where I am, that I may liberate you from the ire of this king, who has overpowered the Arabs.’ The Beni Tamim accordingly abandoned him and departed. The next day, when the army arrived in the country of the Beni Tamim, none of the inhabitants could be found except A’mru. When he was brought to the presence of Shâpûr, the king took notice of his decrepitude, and asked: ‘Withered old man, who art thou?’ He replied: ‘I am A’mru Bin Tamim Bin Merâhum, and, as thou seest, I have lived a long time. When my people fled from thy great severity and slaughter, I refused to depart with them, and now I offer myself as a sacrifice for them. I hope the God of heaven and earth will instil mercy into thy heart, so that thou mayest cease to shed blood, and forgive the Arab people; but if thou wilt permit, I shall be so bold as to ask a question.’ Shâpûr replied: ‘Ask what thou wilt.’ A’mru queried: ‘What is the reason for this bloodshed?’ He replied: ‘Thy people have come to my country, and have greatly injured my subjects.’ A’mru continued: ‘At that time thou wast as yet a minor, but as soon as thou hadst mounted the throne my people abstained from those improper acts; some of them have, moreover, received the punishment which they deserved.’ Shâpûr rejoined: ‘All this zeal in killing the Arabs is the consequence of a prediction, which my learned men have uttered, to the effect that at some future time the Arabs will conquer our country and will dispose of our possessions.’ A’mru asked: ‘Is this event certain, or is it only a surmise which has induced thee to attempt to extirpate the Arabs?’ Shâpûr continued: ‘There is no doubt at all about the fact that ultimately the Arabs will conquer the countries of Erân, and will reign in Persia.’ A’mru rejoined: ‘If such be the case, your majesty ought to be kind and merciful towards them, so that when they obtain the victory they may remember the good treatment they have received, and may also be kind towards your subjects. But even supposing that the Arabs will never conquer the Persians, even in that case it will be proper for your majesty to put a stop to indiscriminate bloodshed, because it will bring on eternal punishment, and entails the destruction of subjects [of your own also].’ Shâpûr approved of the sentiments of A’mru, and continued: ‘Thou hast given me good advice, and not overstepped the bounds of moderation, and hast convinced me of the correctness of thy opinion.’ After that the king issued a proclamation to his army no longer to injure anyone, but to replace the scimitar of vengeance in its scabbard.
The author of the ‘Meadows of Gold’ states that the above-mentioned A’mru lived eighty years more after this conversation with Shâpûr; but Allah knows best. Books have been filled with descriptions of Shâpûr’s projects to invade Rûm after his expedition into Arabia. When he reached the frontiers of that country he wished to enter the metropolis of the Qaisar, disguised as a spy. Having examined and ascertained the position of the frontiers, he left his army in a suitable locality and proceeded in the direction of Qostantiniah [Constantinople], which is the metropolis of the Qaisar. After performing the journey he reached the term of it, and on the very day on which he entered the city the Qaisar happened to give a large banquet. A circumstance, however, which is curious enough, took place before Shâpûr had left his army; the Qaisar had, namely, despatched a painter to the camp of the sovereign of Persia to take his portrait and to bring it to Qostantiniah. The artist having well acquitted himself of his commission, the Qaisar ordered the portrait of Shâpûr to be drawn on vessels of gold and of silver, so that when Shâpûr took his seat on the day of the banquet at one of the tables occupied by soldiers, there happened to be on it also a bowl which contained his own portrait. Some courtiers, being struck by the resemblance between the figure on the cup and Shâpûr, immediately reported the circumstance to the Qaisar, and by order of the latter he was gently conveyed to his presence. Having been examined, Shâpûr stated that he had been intimately connected with the King of Persia, but that he had fled in consequence of some misdemeanour, and had come to this country. The Qaisar suspected, however, that to be a trumped-up story, and threatened Shâpûr with death, whereon he revealed the truth. The Qaisar then ordered him to be dressed in a cow-hide and imprisoned in a tower, where he was kept during the space of one year. When the Qaisar invaded Persia and E’râq, he caused Shâpûr to be brought down from the tower, and compelled him to run as a porter by the side of his horse on the march. The Qaisar made great havoc in the country of Erân, because through whatever province he passed, he either felled all the trees with the axe of unrighteousness, or pulled them up by the roots. When he arrived near the army of Shâpûr, in the country of Khuzestân, where he found the Persian nobles had garrisoned a fort, the Qaisar determined to lay siege to it. On a certain night, which appeared to be a festival of the Rûmis, but in reality became one of the Persians, the Qaisar and his chiefs were amusing themselves, and the guards of Shâpûr became remiss in their duties. The King of Persia beckoned to some of his fellow-prisoners who were near to free him from his bonds; they softened by means of warm oil the hide, which had become dry on his body, and he hastened to the gate of the town. The guards of the roads and towers recognised the voice of their king, admitted him into the fort, and were delighted with his arrival. Shâpûr then ordered the arsenal to be thrown open, and weapons to be given to brave and courageous men. Then he made a sally, and fell like a sudden judgment upon the Qaisar, whom the heroes of the army captured and brought to the presence of Shâpûr. Then the king ordered the Governor of Rûm to be imprisoned, and forced him during the time of his captivity to send men to Rûm to bring soil [sic] from that country, so that they repaired every damage they had caused in Erân; and having brought olive instead of date trees from Rûm, they planted them there.
When the realm of Shâpûr had again become cultivated as in former time, he allowed the Qaisar to depart; in some chronicles, however, it is related that Shâpûr caused the legs of the Qaisar to be amputated, and that, having perforated his nose and drawn a bridle through it, he was placed on a donkey and sent back to Rûm.
It is recorded in the Târikh Moa’jum that after the return of the Qaisar to the country of Rûm, a man from Qostantiniah, of the race of priests, a Christian, had taken possession of the city and of the surrounding country, so that even Shâpûr became apprehensive of him, knowing that he had a large army of brave soldiers, and that an encounter with him might entail his own defeat. He therefore found it convenient to retreat into one of the provinces of that kingdom, and to wait for some time, hoping to collect an army. He despatched letters to the adjacent kings, asking reinforcements, which, when they arrived, swelled his troops from hundreds to thousands. Then he attacked the enemy one fine morning, and fought a battle, which will be remembered till the day of the resurrection. Fortune, however, not having been propitious to him, he was put to flight, and wandered about for some time in the desert with a considerable number of his adherents, until destiny again favoured him, and forces gathered around him from all sides, all of which were accommodated under the shadow of the royal standard. Then Shâpûr began to march with all speed into Rûm, and sent a courier with the following message to the Qaisar: ‘I have again organized an army, have recited the praise, “Return is more praiseworthy,” and have tucked up my sleeves to avenge all the people of my country whom you have slain, imprisoned or robbed. I am ready to fight, but if you agree to pay blood-ransom for the killed, and restore the value of all the booty you have taken, making reimbursement from your treasury, and if you surrender the district of Nassibeen, which was in former times a portion of E’râq, but is now in your possession, I shall again sheath my scimitar and retrace my steps; but if you refuse to comply, the steel-hoofs of my cavalry will stamp out the name of Rûm from the list of kingdoms.’
After perusing this missive, the Governor of Rûm became so intimidated that he drew up a treaty of peace without any mental reservation, and surrendered the district of Nassibeen to the lieutenant of Shâpûr, who selected twelve thousand persons from Persia, from Espahân, and all the region of E’râq, and they departed with their families and relatives to establish themselves in the town [of Nassibeen] for the purpose of cultivating the land. From Rûm many slaves of the Turk and Qipchâk race, as well as arms and goods of all kinds, were sent in enormous quantities to Shâpûr as presents, who returned to his own kingdom, after making the necessary arrangements [for governing the district]. When he arrived in the country of E’râq he laid the foundations of the city of Madâyn, and having completed the building thereof in one year, made it the capital of his realm, where many nobles and grandees came to pay their respects to him.
He lived seventy-two years, during all of which he reigned. In the Mufâtih his cognomen is stated to have been Hûz, and his name Kashaf. Some of his sayings are as follows: ‘Who speaks concerning people what he does not know, people will speak about him what they do not know, and it is an old maxim that a thrust with the tongue is more dangerous than that with a spear.’ He also said: ‘There are words more profitable than rain, and others more cutting than the sword.’
REIGN OF ARDESHIR BIN HORMUZ.
His cognomen is Jamil [elegant]. When he ascended the throne of royalty, he said: ‘The time of my life and the duration of my reign are in the grasp of the will of God the Most High. I am governing only for a time, till my nephew gets older; and in my government I shall not deviate from the usages of my brother Shâpûr.’ After he had reigned four years, he surrendered the reins of government into the hands of his nephew. But the Ravayet [tradition] of Tabari is contrary to the above statement recorded in the reign of Shâpûr, and is to the effect that Shâpûr left two sons, one called after his father, namely Shâpûr, and the other named Behrâm; and that Shâpûr Zullâktâf had also a brother older than himself, Ardeshir by name, and that Hormuz, the father of Shâpûr, had kept Ardeshir at a distance from himself, not caring even for his education. Accordingly, when he was on his deathbed, he enjoined his grandees to make his posthumous son their king. After the demise of Hormuz, Ardeshir expected to be proclaimed king by the grandees of Persia, but they obeyed the wish of Hormuz, and waited until Shâpûr was born, whereon they girded their loins in his service, and excluded Ardeshir from the royal dignity. When, however, Ardeshir had usurped the kingdom, after the death of Shâpûr, he killed some of the great men of Persia on account of some old grudge, but the other grandees and nobles removed him from the throne, and seated thereon Shâpûr Bin Shâpûr Zullâktâf. Also the statement of Abn Athir agrees with the Ravayet of Tabari; but Allah knows best what is right.
REIGN OF SHÂPÛR BIN SHÂPÛR ZULLÂKTÂF.
He was a kind, just, and beneficent prince, who treated his subjects well, issued conciliatory proclamations in all directions, and his uncle, Ardeshir, who had abdicated, rejoiced to obey him. Some state that after he had reigned a little over five years, and was sitting, but according to others sleeping, in a tent, a strong wind arose, which severed its ropes, so that its big pole fell and killed him:
Verses: He slept, and there arose a wind
The like of which no one remembered.
It tore the pole, and threw it on the king:
Shâpûr died, and left his crown to others.
Ebn Athir and Muhammad Bin Jarir-ut-Tabari state that the officers in attendance purposely cut the tent-ropes, so as to cause the tent-pole to fall on his head and to kill him. His cognomen is Shâpûr Aljanûd [Shâpûr of the armies]. The author of this work is of opinion that Shâpûr must have been a wonderful simpleton of a king to leave his royal pavilion and to dwell in a tent. One of his sayings was: ‘There is nothing more handsome than kindness, but gratitude is better.’ He also said: ‘Grievances are dangerous everywhere, but those are most dangerous which are in the breasts of kings.’ The following is likewise one of his maxims: ‘Evil exists in the nature of every man; if a man overcomes it, it will remain hidden, but if it overcomes him, it will appear.’
REIGN OF BEHRÂM BIN SHÂPÛR ZULLÂKTÂF.
Having been Governor of Kermân during the lifetime of his father and brother, he was surnamed Kermânshâh. He is said to have been extremely good-natured and moral. After he had reigned more than eleven years the army revolted against him, and in a general melée an arrow struck him in a lethal part, so that he expired. In the Târikh Moa’jum it is related that he was killed by a relative of his own without having committed any crime. Deeds, however, of this kind are nothing extraordinary in our strange world:
Verses: Whether a man gathers up his skirts
Or attacks the world with his scimitar,
He will not be safe from envious men:
Let base wretches perish, then.
REIGN OF YAZDEJERD THE WICKED.
The Persians call him Yazdegard Farubandagan, which means ‘collector of sin’ [sic]. Some call Yazdejerd the son of Behrâm, but others his brother. Before he commenced to reign he was known by his science, intelligence, beneficence, liberality and experience. But when he ascended the throne he shed much blood, and having raised the dust of confusion and wickedness, he began to despise learned men, as well as to illtreat his subjects and the army. He inflicted great punishments for some crimes, and accepted of the intercession of no one. He did not hesitate to commit sin, but considered it his duty to perpetrate what was forbidden.
It is recorded in the Athâr-ul-a’jam that when Yazdejerd ascended the throne, he said: ‘Three are not to be trusted, namely, the sea, fire, and the Sultân.’ He also said: ‘The wisest king is he who delays punishment when he is in anger, and makes haste to reward the good when he is able.’ He also used to say: ‘Whenever the hand is not occupied in doing good acts, it turns to bad ones; and whenever the heart is void of cares concerning eternity, it will incline to wickedness and crime.’ In spite of all his good sayings, pleasant maxims, intelligence and knowledge, his practice was contrary to his theory, and he never acted according to his convictions. He abstained, however, from drinking wine or listening to songs, to enable his mind constantly to engage in schemes for distressing the people.
It is not hidden from the ingenious that the acquisition of knowledge ought to be utilized for purifying and elevating our morals; and an acquaintance with some special nice maxims ought not to make people so arrogant as to think that they oblige everybody by communicating them. When such persons enter an assembly, they like to sit in the uppermost place, looking down upon all others; and when any man happens on account of his merits to obtain precedence over them, they harbour ill feelings towards the unfortunate man till the day of the resurrection, are engaged in denigrating his character, and are satisfied with nothing shorter than his death; and if the unlucky wight utters one word which allows of ninety-nine interpretations, but contains a single flaw, his whole statement is considered erroneous, and they fall upon him like so many rapacious wolves to put him to shame before the whole assembly. There is a tradition of Shâh Shujaa’ that he said to his courtiers: ‘Procure me a master to teach me, who, when another scholar gets the better of him in argument, will behave like a man.’
Now the time has arrived to cease blaming malicious scholars, and such as do not act according to their knowledge, and to commence to describe the birth of Behrâm Gûr.
BIRTH OF BEHRAM GÛR, HIS EDUCATION IN ARABIA, AND
DEATH OF YAZDEJERD THE WICKED.
Chroniclers relate that a child which had been born to Yazdejerd was short-lived like a flower, and that the tree of its existence was, within the space of a few days, annihilated by the wind of adversity. When, however, Behrâm was born, he was for some time respited from the grasp of destiny, and his father, who had conceived hopes that he would live, ordered the astrologers to cast his horoscope and to inform themselves about his fate. After completing their investigations, these scholars reported to the king that the life of his son would have a prosperous beginning and a laudable end, that he would grow up to man’s estate abroad, become valiant and bold, and be the heir and ruler of the kingdom of Ardeshir; also, that his eloquence and learning would be equal to his bravery. Yazdejerd, being pleased with this news, searched for a salubrious and pleasant locality with good water, where he might bring up his son. Various intelligent men recommended Hira, in the country of Arabia, and Yazdejerd, consenting to the proposal, sent for No’mân Bin Amrulqais, who was his viceroy in Arabia, entrusted Behrâm to his care, and advised him to select in his country a pleasant spot, distinguished by its good water and temperate air. No’mân thereon conveyed Behrâm to his own country and appointed three nurses to take care of him. Ebn Athir reports in his chronicle that, when No’mân had returned from Erân, he searched for a builder, and heard that in a certain provice of Rûm there was an elegant and quick architect, Samnâr by name, for whom he accordingly sent, employing, for the purpose of inviting him, sweet-spoken messengers, who brought him with the celerity of wind and lightning. By the command of No’mân, this architect selected a place appropriate for building, and laid at a propitious hour the foundations of two lofty castles. When the height of the walls had been raised to the stature of a man, Samnâr concealed himself, but again made his appearance some time afterwards, explaining that in the construction of so high an edifice this delay was appropriate [to give time to the walls to settle], and begged to be excused. When both the said castles were finished, one of them was named Sadir, and the other Havarnak. Ebn Qotaibah states in his chronicles of the sovereigns of Persia—which is much quoted—that the Persians called one of the castles Khordengah, that is to say, ‘dining-hall,’ and the other Seh dîr, namely ‘three cloisters,’ because it contained three domes. The kings of Arabia have utilized both expressions, and transmuted them into Havarnak and Sadir.265 In some trustworthy chronicles it is recorded that Samnâr constructed these palaces in such a manner that during the space of one night and one day they appeared to be of three different colours, namely, blue in the morning, white at noon, and yellow towards the evening.266 When the edifices were finished, the king bestowed dresses of honour and liberal gifts on the architect, so that the simple-minded builder was quite overwhelmed, and said: ‘Had I known that the king would treat me so exceedingly well, I would have built a more wonderful palace, so that as the sun moves in each direction, that castle would also move.’ For fear that Samnâr might erect a better castle than the Havarnak for some other king, No’mân ordered him to be precipitated from the top of it; and this story became a proverb among the Arabs.
It is related that No’mân was an idolater, and his wazir a Christian. One day in the vernal season No’mân happened to sit with his wazir on the top of the Havarnak palace, contemplating the rivers, gardens and meadows around it. He said: ‘There is no place more agreeable than this in the whole world.’ The wazir replied: ‘That is true, but it has one fault.’ No’mân queried: ‘What is it?’ The wazir replied: ‘It is not eternal, but perishable.’ No’mân asked further: ‘What is eternal?’ The wazir rejoined: ‘The gardens of paradise, which may be reached by professing the orthodox religion, and by obeying the commands of the Merciful and Clement [Creator].’ These words induced No’mân to make profession of the religion of I’sa. Accordingly, when he came down from the castle, he put on a garment of sackcloth, abdicated his kingdom, abandoned his property and family, and departed into the world in such a manner that no one knew his whereabouts. After his disappearance, his son continued the education of Behrâm and the administration of his kingdom. As soon as the royal prince was able to distinguish his right hand from his left, he collected scholars of all kinds and ordered them to teach him. In a short time Behrâm became acquainted with theoretical and practical philosophy, as well as perfectly skilled in the use of the sword and the lance. After completing the studies useful to kings, the royal prince occupied himself with the chase, with drinking and banqueting. At this stage of his education the news arrived that his father had left our perishable world, and that the grandees of Persia had by general consent elected one of the descendants of Ardeshir Bâbeg, Kesra by name, to be their king.
This report greatly agitated the mind of Behrâm, and he requested Munzar Bin No’mân to aid him in such a manner as to enable him to recover the kingdom, due to him by inheritance, from the hands of strangers. Munzar placed the finger of consent on his eyes, and immediately despatched his son No’mân with a large army to Erân.
The details of this affair may be stated as follows: When the tyranny and bloodshed of Yazdejerd had reached their last stage, the army and the people turned their faces to the Qiblah of prayer, and asked for a deliverer from his cruelty. The arrow of their request having hit the target of response, all of a sudden a steed, the like of which the world had never beheld, made its appearance in the palace of Yazdejerd. The king ordered it to be saddled and bridled; as, however, the horse allowed no one to approach, he was compelled personally to do so; but when he attempted to fix the crupper on its back, the courser kicked him so violently that he did not stop till he reached the corner of eternity.
The duration of his reign amounted to twenty-two years and five months. When the people had been delivered of his cruelty, they bestowed alms on the poor and destitute; the grandees held a consultation, and came to the conclusion that if they were to surrender the kingdom to the son of Yazdejerd, who had been educated by the Arabs, and had learnt their ways, he would act like his father. Therefore they selected, after mature deliberation, one of the descendants of Ardeshir, Khosru by name, but whom the Arabs called Kesra, brought him to Madâin, seated him on the throne, poured jewels and gold into his lap, girded their loins to obey him, and placed the royal diadem on his head.
When the death of his father, and the succession of Kesra to his throne, had reached the ears of Behrâm, he exclaimed:
Distich: ‘Smile at all the beauties; for smile you may;
Slaves of prestige, they will all you obey.’
After making the preparations necessary for a campaign, Behrâm sent Munzar, the son of No’mân, with an army of ten thousand cavalry as a vanguard in the direction of Madâin, ordering him to fight everyone who might resist him, and not to be remiss in slaying, capturing and plundering, until Behrâm himself should arrive.
No’mân marched in conformity with the orders he had received, and arriving at his destination, pitched his camp in the plain near Madâin. The Persians, disquieted by the invasion of the Arabs, marched with thirty thousand cavalry towards Madâin to encounter Behrâm and Munzar. When they had arrived, the chiefs and nobles of both armies held a meeting, in which Behrâm insisted upon his claims to the throne. After a long discussion, the agreement was arrived at by general consent, that the crown be placed between two wild lions, and that he of the two claimants should become king who would be able to take possession of it. Then two wild lions were procured, and the diadem placed between them. Behrâm said to Kesra: ‘Step forth and take the crown,’ but the latter hesitated—
Distich: A royal diadem which endangers life
Is a nice cap, but not worth this strife—
and said: ‘I am in possession, but as you covet the crown and the throne, you ought to be the first to undertake this business.’ Thereupon the lion-hearted Behrâm valiantly approached the crown, and immediately bestrode the lion which had come near him, pommelling the head of the beast with a stone which he had in his hand. Then the other lion approached Behrâm, but he caught hold of his ears, and knocked the heads of the two lions in such a way against each other that their brains protruded, and the bravery of the king of lions drove them both into the desert of non-existence. Then he placed the diadem on his own head, and the tongue of the circumstances indited the following:
Distich: The king delivered himself from the grasp of lions;
He escaped from the jaws of dragons.
After Behrâm Gûr had performed this wonderful exploit, the arrogant men of Persia and of Arabia applauded him, submitting to his commands, and the first man who congratulated him was Kesra.
REIGN OF BEHRÂM GÛR.
It is related in the Mufâtih-ul-u’lûm that, as Behrâm was very fond of hunting the Gûr [wild ass, onager], he was surnamed Behrâm Gûr. Ebn Athir, however, states that one day he happened to shoot an arrow at a lion who was on the top of a wild ass, and that as the arrow had passed through both animals, and then entered the ground, he was called Behrâm Gûr. Also Tabari’s statement and all other historians agree with this latter account.
In short, after he had firmly established himself as king, he pardoned, at the intercession of Munzar Bin No’mân, all the Erânians who had been so bold as to raise Kesra to the throne. He was kind to the army and to his people, remitting a sum of nearly ten thousand tomâns due as tribute. He assigned pensions to men of probity and learning, and restored to cultivation every district which had been ruined during the government of his father. He overwhelmed Munzar Bin No’mân with presents and favours, which fully satisfied him, and then gave him leave to depart, but retained young No’mân as a courtier. Behrâm also entertained special regard for the Arabs who had protected him in his childhood, and captivated the hearts of all men by his kindness and liberality. He uprooted the tree of oppression, planted the shrub of justice, and having entrusted the care of the frontiers to vigilant men, engaged in amusements and pleasures.
It is related that his extraordinary prodigality so displeased his wazirs as to impel them to represent to him that, as the administration is carried on with the aid of the treasury, it must be ruined if that is exhausted. But he endorsed the following words upon the petition: ‘If I do not captivate the hearts of independent men with presents, wherewith am I to cultivate them?’ To this reply they could not demur. It is on record that during his reign all artisans and tradesmen lived in comfort, and worked only till the royal dining time, spending the rest of the day in amusements. One day Behrâm happened to pass near a convivial party, and saw the people amusing themselves without music. Astonished at such a case, he asked how it was that they had neither musicians nor singers. They, however, replied that they could not find a musician even if they paid a thousand dirhems. This circumstance moved the king so considerably that he despatched couriers to Hindustân, who brought back with them ten thousand singers and dancers. It is related that he distributed them all over the country, and the Persians intermarried with them. The Jats are said to be their offspring, and therefore a Jat can be found but seldom who is not also a musician.
After Behrâm had entirely become absorbed in pleasures and amusements, the rumour spread in the world that he cared very little for the affairs of government and of the religion, so that foreigners began to entertain designs of invading the country. The Khâqân of China crossed the Jaihûn with two hundred and fifty thousand cavalry and infantry, and began to kill and to plunder in Erân. Some state that the Khâqân cast his anchor of permanency at Merv, while others assert that he continued his march until he arrived in the province of Rei. The grandees and nobles of Persia were much troubled by this event, and although they requested Behrâm to collect an army for the purpose of expelling the enemy, they could effect nothing. His only reply was: ‘God the Most High is bountiful and clement. I hope His mercy will not allow me to fall into the hands of my enemies.’ When the courtiers departed from his assembly, they said to each other: ‘He has no sense left, and dreads the bravery of the enemy.’ Behrâm meanwhile took seven royal princes and high military officers, with three hundred champions, who had no hesitation to enter the jaws of lions and throats of dragons, together with numerous leopards and falcons, and marching out of his capital as if for the purpose of hunting, left the administration in charge of his brother Nursi. Behrâm thus marched to Azarbaijân, the inhabitants whereof took it for certain that his dread of the Khâqân had impelled him to flee. Therefore the officers of his government and other managers of public affairs agreed to despatch a smooth-tongued ambassador to the Khâqân, who might, by offering him tribute, land them on the shore of safety from the billows of his wrath. When the Khâqân was informed of this news, he halted in the locality which he had reached, and established himself quietly. Then Behrâm marched into Armenia, and having taken into his service one thousand warriors, who considered fighting with elephants and rapacious lions to be but a child’s play, he was by several scouts, whom he had hired, led through untravelled roads to the camp of the Khâqân. When he had nearly reached his destination, spies reported to him that the Khâqân was sitting at his ease, and occupied with various amusements, because the sounds of carousing and the melodies of flutes were heard, as if rising up to the mansions of the sun and moon. Behrâm took this to be a good opportunity, and the nights being dark, he divided his cavalry into four portions, which rushed upon the army of the Khâqân like a sudden judgment. From the shrill fifes and the large brass drums, the Turks [sic] concluded that the angel Esrafil was blowing the trump of the resurrection. Behrâm himself entered the tent of the Khâqân, and after severing his arrogant head from the body, pursued the fugitives as far as the banks of the Jaihûn.
In the Târikh of Abu Hanifah Dinvari it is recorded that when the invasion of the Khâqân into Khorâsân had become known, Behrâm selected one thousand men from among his best warriors of the time, and ordered them to ride on camels, but to lead their horses. He likewise commanded every one of them to take a falcon and a dog. He left his brother Nursi to be his viceroy in the government, and marched in the direction of Azarbaijân, the inhabitants of which province seemed to be certain that he was fleeing from the Khâqân, and as soon as he had departed, the Sardârs of the Persians agreed to send many presents to the Khâqân, and to offer him their homage.
When the King of Turkestân [sic] heard this news, the vapour of pride and arrogance mounted into his brains, and he halted in the vicinity of Merv to wait for the arrival of the gifts. Behrâm ordered seven thousand cows to be slaughtered, the hides of which he took, and also seven thousand young horses one year old. He marched, always in the night, through Tabaristân, Jorjân, and Nasâr, but when he had nearly reached the camp of the Khâqân, he moistened the hides of the cows, so that they recovered their original form; then he filled them with pebbles, and had them tied to the young foals, which were in a dark night chased towards the camp of the Khâqân. When the Turks [sic] heard the awful sounds, they knew not whence they came; but when the horses approached the soldiers, they became frightened and fled. Behrâm pursued the fugitives, and when he reached the Khâqân, he slew him with his own hand. It is said that Behrâm pursued the fleeing army as far as the Jaihûn, and that, halting there, he sent one of his generals to the country of Ma-vara-an-nahr [Transoxiana] to subjugate it. The kings of the eastern country, however, sent ambassadors and letters so frequently, and sued so much for peace, that Behrâm erected a tower in that region to be like a frontier-post between the two kingdoms, which their respective armies should not transgress. When peace was established, Behrâm returned joyfully to his capital, and departed some time afterwards to Hindustan by way of amusement.
GOING OF BEHRÂM GÛR TO INDIA, AND THE EVENTS OF
THAT TIME.
Historians have in different ways recorded the departure of Behrâm to India, his adventures there, and the manner of his return to his own country. The following account is compiled from the narratives of Ebn Athir, and Muhammad Bin Jarir Tabari: When Behrâm had victoriously returned to his own country, he remitted the tribute due to him by his own subjects, and surrendered the reins of the administration into the hands of Nursi, who was one of the most intelligent men of the age, and of the lineage of Behmen Bin Esfendiar, and all of a sudden conceived the idea of examining the state of the kings and governments of India, and to see all the curiosities of that part of the world. Accordingly he entrusted all the affairs of his kingdom to his accomplished wazir Nursi, and began his journey, after duly performing which he reached the capital of India. There he constantly occupied himself with the chase and with travelling, greatly astonishing the Hindus by his horsemanship and archery. It was reported to the King of India that a handsome cavalier had arrived from Persia, the like of whom in beauty of person and in bravery had never been seen. Before any meeting had taken place between the king and Behrâm, a report was spread in the city that a very powerful elephant came out daily from a certain desert, posted himself on the road, and killed any person who attempted to pass that way. This news having been brought to the notice of the king, he appointed some Hindu warriors to remove the savage animal, but their efforts were not successful, numerous persons were destroyed, and traffic on the said road ceased. This event spurred the courage of Behrâm, who proceeded thereon to attack the elephant, but was accompanied by a man whom the king had sent with him, for the purpose of bringing back a true account of the conflict. Accordingly the man took up his position on the top of a tree, whence he observed Behrâm arriving, and the elephant advancing towards him. The lion-hearted sovereign then drew an arrow from his quiver, and so hit the elephant on the forehead as to despatch him immediately into non-existence. Then he alighted from his charger, and grasping the trunk of the elephant with both hands, drew it towards himself, so as to make him drop on his knees; then he separated with his scimitar the head of the brute from the body. When Behrâm had arrived from the desert, he erected the head of the elephant in a public thoroughfare, so that the champions of Hindustân became astonished at his valour. The messenger reported the whole transaction to the king, who then ordered Behrâm to be presented to him, and when he asked him who he was, Behrâm replied: ‘I am a Persian officer, and was for some time in the service of Behrâm Gûr, who is the monarch of that land. He had been made inimical to me by some envious and ill-disposed persons; I feared his displeasure, and took refuge in this country, hoping to enjoy safety and peace under the shadow of your majesty’s protection.’ The King of India being pleased with the affability and demeanour of Behrâm, gave him many presents, and enrolled him among his courtiers.
The bravery of Behrâm became daily more and more known, and he rose in the favour of the king. A powerful enemy having afterwards attacked the king, Behrâm advised him to march out and to encounter his foe. Accordingly the King of India left his city for the purpose of fighting, and when the two armies came in sight of each other, they were drawn up in lines. Behrâm then stepped forward, and enjoined the Indian warriors to keep watch in his rear, so as to enable him to fight boldly in front. Then he turned his face towards the enemy, and with every arrow he shot he prostrated a warrior to the ground, and in every onslaught he made with his sword he split in twain the body of some celebrated champion. When the enemies perceived the strength of his arm, they took to flight, and the King of India returned victoriously to his capital, where he overwhelmed Behrâm with honours, gave him his daughter in marriage with a rich dowry, desiring to make him viceroy of the kingdom, and his successor on the throne. On this occasion Behrâm revealed what he had for so long a time kept secret, and said: ‘I am Behrâm Gûr.’ At these words the king became afraid, and asked: ‘What are thy commands?’ Behrâm replied: ‘Be comforted, I have no need of thy kingdom; but if convenient, restore a few of my towns on the frontier, and now in thy possession. Continue, however, to govern them, nevertheless, but pay annual tribute for them into my treasury.’ The king assented, and Behrâm, having married his daughter, returned with her and abundant property to his own country after an absence of two years.
After his return from India he ordered his wazir Nursi to invade Rûm with forty thousand cavalry, he himself marching at the same time with the Persian army to Qostantiniah [Constantinople], the governor whereof he compelled to obey him, and to pay him tribute. When Behrâm had returned from Rûm, he marched in person to Yaman, where he slew many men, plundered numerous localities, and then retraced his steps to his own country.
It is related that when the close of his life was at hand, Behrâm, whilst engaged in the chase, had fallen into a well and could not be found. His mother went to the spot, and by her command as much soil was drawn out from the well as might have reached up to the firmament, but no trace of the corpse of Behrâm could be discovered. According to the most authentic and general statement, the duration of his reign amounted to sixty-three years.267
REIGN OF YAZDEJERD BIN BEHRÂM.
When he ascended the throne he recalled Nursi, the wazir of his father—who had retired and become a devotee in a fire temple—to public life, appointed him prime minister, and governed his subjects with justice. The surrounding potentates continued to pay their annual tribute into the treasury as in the time of his father Behrâm, while he himself imitated by his equity the ways of his ancestors, and of Kaiomarth the Peshdâdian.
After several years had elapsed the King of Rûm ceased to pay his usual tribute, whereon the Shâh of Erân despatched his prime minister Nursi with a numerous army of brave men to that country. When the Governor of Rûm had become aware of their bravery, he paid whatever he owed, whereon Nursi returned after having successfully accomplished his mission.
Yazdejerd is said to have had two sons, the name of the senior being Firûz, and of the junior Hormuz; but as the latter was his favourite, he appointed Firûz to be governor of the territory of Nimrûz [which consisted of the provinces of Mehrân and Sejestân], and made Hormuz his heir-apparent, saying: ‘Although the personal appearance of Firûz is more imposing, and he is several years older than Hormuz, I prefer the latter on account of his intelligence, modesty, and worth.’ When eighteen years of the reign of Yazdejerd had elapsed, he was gathered to his fathers. He kept up a powerful and respected government, and was surnamed ‘the soldier’s friend.’
REIGN OF HORMUZ BIN YAZDEJERD.
After the demise of Yazdejerd, Hormuz ascended the throne, but was tyrannical and ill-natured. When his brother Firûz heard of what had taken place, he departed to the country of Hayatalah to crave assistance, stating that his father had acted unjustly by appointing Hormuz to be king. After the ruler of Hayatalah had taken an oath from Firûz concerning the truth of his assertion, he gave him one thousand soldiers on condition of leaving Turân, with its dependencies, in his possession. Thus Firûz attacked Hormuz with his army and vanquished him, but —according to the most trustworthy authorities—forgave him his transgressions, and sent back his auxiliaries to Hayatalah with many presents.
Hâfez Abru states that the character of Hormuz was most excellent. He was just, moral, and good-natured:
Verses: Hormuz was righteous like Yazdejerd,
He was a pure-minded sovereign;
Though brave and dignified like Esfendiar,
In wisdom and foresight he was Kaikobâd.
In the Mufâtih-ul-u’lûm it is stated that his sobriquet was ‘the sage,’ and according to the author of the Târikh Ja’fari, the reign of Hormuz lasted one year, but nothing is said of this in any other history.
REIGN OF FIRÛZ.
Ebn Athir states that Firûz ascended the throne after the murder of his brother Hormuz and three of his relatives, and that he displayed good temper with much justice. After he had reigned one year a cessation of rain took place, which lasted seven years, so that the water in the rivers became painfully low, the price of corn rose, and a great famine prevailed in the land. The famishing people were compelled to be satisfied during the day with the sight of the loaf of the sun, and in the night by looking at the moon. They gave up all hopes of seeing real bread.
Muhammad Bin Jarir Tabari states that not a drop of water was left in the rivers Jaihûn and Tigris, that all springs and canals were dried up, and that all the quadrupeds and birds had died, neither was any kind of plant growing on the earth. Ebn Athir states that during the time of the dearth Firûz disbursed all the money of his treasury to his subjects. He also sent couriers in all directions, ordering the wealthy people to relieve the destitute according to their best abilities, and to warn them that they would be punished if they allowed any persons to die of starvation; accordingly, during all that time only one man in the town of Ardeshirgard died from want.
When the distress had reached its extreme stage, Firûz and his subjects turned their faces towards the court of the Omnipotent Sovereign, quenching the fire of their hunger with the tears of their eyes until the Bountiful Giver opened the portals of His mercy, whereon corn became cheap, and trouble was changed to peace. Gradually the towns and villages, with their fields, began to prosper again, the water of springs, rivers, and canals flowed as before; and for the sake of warning the enemies of the realm a supernatural herald perpetuated the saying:
Distich: Say to the foolish ignicolist enemy,
Repent! for the water has returned again.
After the inhabitants of Erân had been delivered of so great a calamity, Firûz determined to invade the country of Hayatalah, to relieve the oppressed who had on account of the tyranny of that country’s king sought refuge at his court. He collected an army, paid no attention to the warnings of his councillors, who besought him not to break the treaties existing between the two countries, and thus become with his subjects guilty of the crime of transgressing the said covenants.
The detailed account of this affair is as follows: When the King of Hayatalah was informed of the approach of Firûz, he was greatly disquieted, and one of his courtiers, perceiving the distressed state of the king’s mind, said: ‘The way to nullify the evil intentions of Firûz will be to cut off my hands and feet, and to expose me on a certain road where Firûz must pass, and by the favour of God I shall be able to avert the calamity, but your majesty must provide for my family.’ The king accepted this advice, and executed it. When Firûz arrived, his followers perceived the just-mentioned courtier on the road, and reported that they had found a man whose hands and feet had been cut off. Accordingly, Firûz ordered that cunning individual to be brought into his presence, and examined him. His statement was this: ‘I have been one of the courtiers of Khoshnavâz, King of Hayatalah, but as I advised him not to oppress his subjects, and not to resist the King of Persia, whom he would be unable to contend with, he put me in the state in which you now see me, and exposed me to become the prey of wild beasts.’ Firûz took pity on him, and gave him many presents; after duly thanking him, the man spoke as follows: ‘If you wish to attack King Khoshnavâz, it will be prudent to fall upon him unawares on this road through the desert, which is very near, and I shall point it out.’ Firûz, beguiled by the speech of this man, marched into the desert contrary to the advice of many of his people, so that his whole army perished of thirst, and only he himself escaped half dead, with a few companions, from this calamity after undergoing a thousand hardships. Thus he arrived in the country of Hayatalah, to the king of which he sent a messenger to implore security. Khoshnavâz sent the following reply: ‘Although I have treated thee well, and have aided thee with troops and money to recover thy kingdom, thou hast in return for all these favours yielded to the intreaties of a number of unprincipled scoundrels, and hast invaded my country for the purpose of overthrowing my government, but hast experienced the fate which thou hast deserved. If thou art, however, prepared now again to renew the treaty honestly, and will after this attempt neither personally nor by means of others to despatch forces against me, I shall send thee back to Erân honourably and decently, and shall again reseat thee on thy throne.’ Firûz was obliged to agree to this proposal whether he liked it or not, and to swear an oath to that effect. Then Khoshnavâz bestowed various favours upon him, and allowed him to return to his country; but Firûz could not forget his disgrace, and, coiling himself up like a serpent, meditated day and night how to take revenge and conquer his enemy.