Kitāb-i Yamīnī (=Tārīḫ-i Yamīnī) - The Kitāb-i-Yamīnī of Al Utbi

And because he beheld a determined disposition in his son, and remarked the evidences of ambition in his understanding and imagination, he sent him to one of the fortresses of Karmán. Here he was imprisoned for some time. And in this castle were several of the family of his father’s Court: they cast an eye upon the imprisoned Prince, and pitied his condition. Therefore they tied their veils together and let him down from the top of the castle. And when the army became aware of the escape of the Prince they all assembled and joined him, and during all the days of his father they wearied him with measures (and propositions) of trouble. And Abú-Alí sent a message to the chiefs of the army and notables of the people, and desired to know the cause of their hatred and ground of their fierceness, and employed gentle and friendly words. But he received no healing reply and saw no result, except the necessity of propitiating His Highness.^* For all released him from governing, and absolutely required that he should separate himself from the country and towns of Karmán, and divest himself of all desire for those regions. And when he saw the vehemence and obstinacy of these forces he perceived that there was no remedy, but in gentleness and in quitting his lordly tone. Therefore he collected the property and moveables which he had, and took the road to Bukhárá; and he sent his son, ’bn-Mahdí, and Barmash, the Chamberlain, to the other son, in order that, by the aid of their perfect intellect, they might expedite his affairs. And when Abú-Alí arrived at Bukhárá he used the utmost endeavour, by seeking and visiting, to obtain splendour and distinction for his rank, and was a constant attendant at the presence of the King, until, in the month Shaivál and the year 356 (?) he was committed to the grave. And his son Alísa obtained possession of the kingdom of Karmán; and his affairs met with perfect success, and his authority was consolidated and advanced. His brother Sulimán was settled at Jarján, for the viceroyalty of that place had been committed to him. He stirred up his son ’bn-Mahdi-Alísa to attack him, and said that he ought to lay hands upon him before his disjointed affairs were fully put in order, and his condition settled. Alísa then summoned his brother from Jírján, under pretext of consulting him upon some weighty business. He however sought to hold back, by means of false excuses and deceitful words. And Alísa became grieved at this refusal, and conceived a suspicion of him. He therefore attacked and defeated him, and seized all his property and baggage, heavy and light, and Sulimán went to Bukhárá. But the history of Alísa turned out eventually according to the saying, “The ass seeking two horns, lost his two ears.” The explication of which proverb is this, when he arrived on the frontiers of the country of Fars, a detachment of the army of Azduddouláh went to offer service to him. He caressed them greatly, and gave them dresses of honour. But then several of this body fled, and came into the service of Azduddoulah. For this cause Alisa became suspicious of the fidelity of the remainder, and made them all an example. Then most of his army went into the service of Azduddoulah, who abundantly honoured them. And the army witnessing the disruption of these two bodies became alienated from Alísa and hated him, and at one stroke a thousand men of the chiefs of Dilem severed themselves from his troops, and attached themselves to His Highness, Azdaddoulah, in the province of Istakhar. After this company after company attached themselves to him, until the whole of the people of the army were dissevered. And he, with his slaves and body guard, went to Washar, and twisting together his light and heavy baggage, went to Bukhárá. Upon this Azduddoulah was soon at Washar, and succeeded to the kingdom of Karmán. He removed Gorangirín-Hassan to become his vicegerent and lieutenant of that place, and betook himself to the direction of Fars. As for Alísa when he arrived at the confines of Kohistán, he left all his baggage at Hawín, and in the hope of succour went to Bukhárá. His exalted rank and honoured dignity was highly regarded in the royal presence, and favoured in the Court, and he was specially admitted into familiar intercourse and society with the King. But on a certain day, during a social meeting, when the course of wine had seized the reins of self-command from his hand, he introduced a freedom of speech beyond that which his rank authorized, and uttered the following expressions: “If I had known that the disposition of the house of Sámán shrank from aiding the grieved, and succouring the anxious, and that my hope of obtaining the prospect of encouragement, and an asylum from their Highnesses, would have been disappointed and belied, I would have sought refuge in some other direction, and requested support from some other quarter.” The harshness of these words moved the King, and they seized him, and sent him to Khwárism. And Abú-Alí-’bn-Simjúr sending to Hawin, took possession of all his baggage, light and heavy, and all his bedding, coloured clothes, and changes of raiment.

This loss constituted bitter intelligence to Alísa, at Khwárism, and he could not patiently endure that measure of affliction. And in his extreme anguish and disgust lifted up his finger and tore out the pupils of his eyes, and by this, in the issue, he laid down his life. As to the sons and followers of Alísa, they afterwards chanted the pages of misery, and none of them saw Kirmán except in his sleep. Kirmán then was fully settled upon Azduddoulah, until he went to the home of mercy, and Bíha-Addoulah inherited the kingdom. These regions were adorned by his justice and equity. And when the Sultán seized Sistán, and the duty of neighbourhood and contiguity of dominion was observed between them, he openly declared and uttered an assertion of his noble attachment and eager affection towards the Sultán, and sent to him gifts and presents, worthy of his exalted mind and illustrious descent. And the Sultán reciprocally commanded that double kindnesses should be rendered to him, so that the source of mutual hospitality, and the fabric of friendship, was settled between them. And the senators of the two empires, by means of their compositions, exerted themselves to interweave as the motives for constancy, the bonds and claims of neighbourhood, and to nail the foundations of affection by the nails of alliance and affinity, so that unity and intimacy resulted between these two sovereigns, and the advantages of their union, and the fruits of their alliance, extended to the people of Islám, and to the whole world.

The Sultán, in order to fulfil his previous vow, commanded a brisk march unto another conquest, which might be the margin of the ornamented title page of other victories and settlements, the record of which might adorn the page of time, the weight of whose glory might be a heavy load (of merit), and might be a cause of confirming the advancement and approximation of His Highness to glory, and of exalting his greatness. He therefore set off unto the lands of Hind, with the supporters of truth, and chiefs of Islám, who are the stars of religion, and the stoners of devils (Verse)

And upon arriving at the provinces of India, they began with open hand to devastate the lands, to punish the infidels, to overturn the idols, and to make an example of high and low; and as to the prince of those doomed ones, and the chief of those insignificant ones, they sent him abject and prostrate to hell, and for his viler followers scattered and dispersed them like leaves exposed to the wind. Thus he returned to Ghúzna, safe and rich. And when the King of Hind witnessed the marks of the wound of the Sultán’s standard in the nearest and most distant part of his kingdom, and ascertained his weakness in resisting the army of Islám, he sent the chiefs of his kindred and the flower of his guards on an embassy to offer submission to the Sultán, and humbled himself, and bound himself to tribute and fidelity, and appointed sixty yokes of elephants to be sent by him as a service to his beloved fortune, and assigned a payment to be mutually arranged, which should be sent yearly by the nobles (freeholders) of that province, and the people of that district, to his treasury. And that by way of acting as Viceroy, he should keep two thousand men at his Court, and that at all recurring days, and returning months and years, he should express fidelity to these conditions, and that the successors and sons of every one who should occupy royalty, and obtain command in India, should proceed upon this decree, and should obey and follow this law. The Sultán, for the glory of the faith and honour of Islám, was content with these conditions of pacification, and dispatched trustworthy persons to collect these revenues; and this secured tax became a fixed source of revenue in the book of the finance court of the Empire. Thus the road for caravans and merchants between the districts of Khurasán and Hind became open.

The Sultán began to reflect and to be disgusted with the districts of Gúr, with the insolence of the inhabitants, and the insults (of those people) in the neighbourhood of his kingdoms and centre of his empire’s circle, and began to be jealously indignant on account of their crimes and wickedness, and infidelity and disobedience, and their heavy imposts (by lying in wait) upon caravans and travellers. For he saw it not fitting that a people destitute of Faith’s decoration, and marked with the brand of infidelity, should through the prestige of their munitions of mountains and repelling cliffs, in the neighbourhood and vicinity of the powerful throne of royalty, display such arrogance and pretensions, and take upon themselves such enmity and forwardness. He resolved to correct and pinch them, and drew a considerable army of infantry and cavalry to those confines. And he appointed to the command of the army Altontash, his Chamberlain, who had been Prince of Herát, and Arslán-Jazib, a well-known and celebrated man of Multán. And they, in folding up those passages and halting places fell into straits, for all the people of the army of Gúr were entrusted with the guardianship of those defiles, and great battles took place between the two divisions, and they obtained not a hand’s breadth of footing, except by the scimitar, and no other weapons were of service, and the swords took nothing, except to wait the opportunity of cutting to pieces, and daggers only fought with throats. And the Sultán, informed of this, forthwith arose, with a body of his own special slaves, and came to their aid, and step by step drove those wretches far from the defile, and their places of asylum and (repositories) of wealth, until he had scattered them all from the protection of their narrow passes and the benefit of their difficult ground, and opened a way for his infantry, and made a road to arrive close to the stronghold-nest of the king and chief, whose name was Ibn-Súrí, and by a ravine (or village) named Ahingiran (?) came over to the sides of his fortress. He then issued out with ten thousand men, and drew up in line of battle against the Sultán, and by his opportunities of entrenching himself behind walls, and by reason of the aid he derived from his strong places of retreat and deep ditches, resisted half the day. Thus they continued striking on both sides in stubborn fight, and confused shootings and blows. But the Sultán ordered that they should turn their backs, as though his army were yielding and descending. These doomed ones were deluded with this deception, and the Hindú no longer held firm (to his ground) but, fascinated by a desire for plunder, came into the open plain, to see the flight. Upon this the Sultán wheeled round, and laid them all on the couch of sweet sleep, with death as their bedfellow. He took the son of Ibn-Súrí prisoner, and carried away as booty wealth and arms, which chief after chief and infidel after infidel had bequeathed, as inheritance. Thus the ensigns of Islám were displayed in those regions and coasts, and the renown of these great victories travelled throughout the world. Thus the Sultán, on the wing of success and the upraised pinion of good fortune, set off for Ghazna. As to the son of Sholi (i. e., Súrí) when he saw himself disgracefully caught in the snare of imprisonment and the halter of ruin, and when he saw the people of Islám lords of all the deposited wealth of his castle, he sucked a poisoned ring that was on his finger and resigned his soul to the Supreme.

In the year 401, in the province of Khurásán, generally, and in the city of Nisápúr, particularly, a wide-spread famine, and a frightful and calamitous scarcity occurred, such that the girdle of patience was too narrow to bear the measure of that distress and the pressure of that misfortune, so that, from the difficulty of finding food no strength remained, and every one ate the grain of the heart (i. e., original sin, or misery) like the grains of the pomegranate from the skin (i. e., innate corruption appeared in its effects). All conveyed within their dwellings the vegetation and sprouts adapted for animals, as delicious food, until all cheeks withered, and all bright faces scattered their freshness like autumn leaves; vacant eyes fell into a pit and sweet lips were ruined. The nerves of articulate speech were unable to express clear chants by the organ of the tongue, and pearl-like teeth, from the saliva of inward fever, became yellow; sweet-scented mouths sent up to Heaven, from the burning flame of hunger, continual sighs, and life, from the desolation of its lodging-body, laid itself down at its halting-place or inn. Grains of wheat were more valuable than grains of pearl, and the Virgin’s ear of corn in the heavens envied the esteem afforded to the ears of corn on earth. The granaries of those who laid up in store were as empty, i. e., forlorn, as the heart of the mother of Moses, and the stomachs of the wealthy were as void as a drum: no trace of bread remained; and that which all coveted was annihilated. Such was the extent of the calamity that, in the district of Nisápúr, nearly 100,000 men perished, and no one was at liberty to wash, coffin, or inter them, but placed them in the ground in the clothes they had. Women and men, old and young, uttered cries for help, and, exclaiming “Bread! bread!” lay cold (in death) upon the spot. Some arrested their last breath by means of grass and hay, until all sustenance from sown fields and cultivated things were cut off, and that resource was also drawn beneath the veil, until they took the bones from the cemeteries, and broke them into small pieces, and boiled them, and, as when a butcher slaughters, the poor quarrelled for the bloody portions, and therewith quieted the cry of hunger and struggle to ward off the last agony. However every one who partook of these impurities fell upon the spot and yielded up life. Otbi says, I knew a man whom they were seeking and enquiring for, as heir to property that was falling in, but possessed not one grain of wheat in reality or prospect. This man of noble feelings and high rank could in no way obtain grains of corn, so destitute had he become. And the intensity of this distress was so great that mothers ate their children and brothers made brothers’ flesh the means of preserving life, and husbands killed their wives and boiled them, and cutting their members and limbs into pieces, dined upon them; and they seized men in the streets, killed and ate them, and people separating the flesh from the fat, would talk familiarly in the market and hold them up with the fingers, showing which of the joints and pieces of human flesh would best melt together (or cleaned the best joints and pieces of human flesh) and sold them in the market. And they seized many for this offence and found in their houses men’s bones, and carried them to execution. But the source of this misery was not cut off, and no more animals, as dogs and cats, and such like, remained. And no one was so bold as to stir far from his house or to go far into the city, unless in company with others and well armed. A clever man, a theological Imám, went to visit the Imám Taib-Salaokí. The Imám Abú-Taib said: “It is long since you have set foot in my house or have directed your will towards me, what is the cause?” He replied: “My story is a strange story and a wondrous incident; if the Shaikh Imám, on account of its singularity, will allow me a hearing and grant me his illustrious attention I will tell a tale, how God, in my behalf, hath granted a solid favour and a generous interposition, and hath saved my life from the precipice of destruction.” The Shaikh said: “You must tell the story, by all means.” Then he said: “I was passing, at night-time, through such a street, when suddenly a snaring noose fell upon my neck, and, with successive stretchings, so compressed my throat that my breath was stopped, and from the violence of the strangling I became a prisoner, and went as the rope (pulled me) until it drew me to a certain lane, and an old woman ran out of the house, and both of them struck their knees upon the lower parts of my stomach, until from those injuries I became insensible, and had no knowledge of that which afterwards followed, until after a while, by means of fresh water which was thrown upon my face, I recovered, when I saw several sitting by my pillow and treating me kindly. They represented to me the conduct of these deceitful and designing people, and removed the curtain of concealment from the secret of the description of the event. Thus I became acquainted with the certainty of that affair, namely, that at the juncture of time when that man was dragging me, they were proceeding towards their residences and abodes, and that impure wretch was sharpening a knife to murder me, when, being alarmed at them, he left me in that condition and fled, and after a little space I recovered my breath, and went home; but, from the horror of that affair, I was some days upon my bed, until Heaven was so gracious that the pain of that injury ceased. And when the marks and proofs of convalescence were perfect, I went, at the hour of dawn, to fulfil my religious duty at the mosque; and I went, at the time of the proclamation of prayer, to the minaret, to a seat, awaiting the hour of the proclamation. Suddenly a noose was in motion by my side, directed towards my throat. However the mercy of the Supreme interposed, and this attempt at injury missed my neck, and my handkerchief was the preservation of my life, and my turban remained in the knot of the noose. I ran down from the mizanat (place where the Muezzin stands to proclaim the hour of prayer) and made a vow that, for the space of this calamity and the days of this distress, I would never come from the house, except in bright day, and would go for all necessaries before the sun began to incline to twilight. These were the circumstances which hindered my service and prevented my presence.” When I had concluded my tale all expressed astonishment at that blow and astounding event, and I sought the benignity of God, and fled to the canopy of his guardianship and compassion. And Master Abdul-Malik-Waíz, who was one of the pious Imáms and esteemed for his good conduct, relates that on one day, during that distress, they carried four hundred from the streets of the city to the hospital, that I might arrange for them to be put into coffins and buried. (And another said) at evening prayer a baker, who was settled at the station of the flag of my serai, came to me and said: “To-day four hundred máns of bread remain, which no one demands.” At this state of things I was surprised, that, even at times when food can be obtained, if God issues his decree and appoints the (prophetic) mirror of death for the people it is impossible to avert his judgment and to obstruct his preordaining decree. The talented of that time put forth poems, in commemoration of this scarcity. Abú-Mansúr, of Raí, the scribe, says (Verse)

And Abd Lekani says (Verse)

And the Sultán during those days commanded, and sent an edict into the provinces of the kingdom, ordaining that the revenue officers and magistrates should empty the granaries of corn, and distribute amongst the poor and wretched, and thus save them from the claws of destruction, and the talons of want. And that year came to an end in the same state, until the produce of the year 402 arrived, when the fire of that calamity was extinguished, and that extremity was remedied, and God sent down mercy, so that the appearance of seeds and the blessings of increase returned in their accustomed course. “What mercy does God open to man, and he will not take hold of it, and what does he hold and (man) will not send to him after it, although he be the mighty Ordainer.” (Kurán).

The Sultán, after defeating the Turkish army, came to Jámúsán, and commanded that they should examine and spy the proceedings of Ilek-Khán and his brother, Togán-Khán, and the latter expressed some inclination towards the Sultán, and began to allude to the covenant and compact which had existed between them in former days; and by the tongue of messengers made overtures respecting a full discovery of the proceedings of Ilek-Khán, and entered into treacherous (proposals) of gradually approaching and suddenly attacking his territory, and the parts about. And when Ilek-Khán became aware of these intrigues of his brother, and of his traitorous acts, and knew his baseness and rebellion, he determined to carry out abbreviated counsels as to him, and first to cut off the germ of all distress, a domestic adversary. He therefore marched with the army of Máwarannahr towards his territory, with the intention to encounter him. And when he passed Awazkand there was much snow, and he saw that the roads were obstructed, therefore he returned, until, at the time of the breaking of the weather, and the retrogression of the planets, and the opening of the winter, and the intercepting of the cold, and when the melting spring dissolved the silver of the snow upon the heated ground, and the hero Earth put off his mailed coat of ice, and the abundance of fresh herbage gave forth perfume, and the world became quite young, Ilek-Khán became eager for victory, and with his comrades marched forth towards his brother. Each of them had sent envoys to the court of the Sultán, who had much discussion and conference, and many disputes arose between them upon the subject of this treacherous proceeding. The Sultán displayed indifference to their abundant words and excessive series (of complaints), whilst they were knocking their heads together. After this he sent them an invitation, and ordered that the banqueting room should be decked for horse races, and elephant fights. Around the circuit of the whole space there were two rows of Turkish Mamlúks and Gholáms in full splendour, so that if Karún had seen them he would have said (Verse)

The following is a description of this assembly:— two thousand young Turkish Officers were arranged in rows opposite one another, dressed in embroidered coloured robes, and five hundred of his own guards were stationed near the company, in vests of silk, and girdles of gold set with pearls, resting upon their shoulders Indian scimitars in golden sheaths, forty yokes of elephants were arranged in front of the assembly, in trappings of Grecian silk, harness of woven gold, and metal appendages of new gold set with valuable pearls and gems. Then behind each of the two rows were seven hundred camel elephants, like mountains in appearances and devils in make, in splendid housings and painted trappings, with collars of gems. The body of the army was clothed in coats of mail worthy of David, and drew Frank helmets over their heads, and the infantry of the army advancing on the green space (?) drew their swords, and fixed their javelins, and the whole company of the Chamberlains stood before the Sultán like the sun and moon, and reaching their hands, grasped their scimitars, fastening their eyes and ears upon the (least) sign of the Sultán, and they introduced the envoys, who from awe at this array, exhibited the expressions of the most perfect devotion to the throne, and fulfilled all the established rules and duties of service and obedience, and they introduced the envoys to the head of the table, into the palace of hospitality, when they saw a paradise adorned with fish ponds, with gold and silver ceilings, furnished with jewelled vessels, and lofty courts, and beautiful furniture. Before the Sultán’s throne was a golden peacock, and the slabs of the throne were joined with gold wire, and silver nails, the carpets were of Greek and sewed silk. At the upper part of the assembly room was placed a dais, at the edges of which were partitioned off closets, square, hexagon, and circular: every closet was filled with different kinds of jewels, so that the rays of their brilliancy clouded and confused the eye, and all acknowledged that during the whole time of the Khosroes of Persia, the Cæsars of Greece, the Kails of Arabia, and the Rajahs of Hind, they had never heard the record of any such precious gems as these. All around the assembly room were placed boxes of musk, amber, Romaic camphor, pure aloes wood, dried citrons and oranges dipped in fragrant perfumes, and various kinds of golden fruits and dates, with clusters of grapes made of rubies, and when they introduced the wine, the private cupbearers, like veiled jewels and treasured pearls, caused to circle merrily wine bright as the eyes of the cock. The envoys expressed astonishment and amazement at the decorations of this banquet, and when in due time they requested their audience of leave, the Sultán expressed to them his sincere wish for the prosperity and glory of their Sovereign. And thus the dust of dispute between the two brothers was laid, whilst the Sultán continued to mediate between them, and their affairs were thus decided, and settled, so that each replaced the sword of ill-will in the scabbard, and remained contented with his own territory. Their entire history shall be completed in another place, if God will.

When the Sultán’s mind was at rest from the quarter of the Turks, and had chaunted respecting their condition the verse “ Their power is great between them, if it is united, but their hearts are divided,” (Kurán), and had testified, in those events, the veracity of the fortunate miracle of the verse, “We have sent between them enmity and hatred for ever;” so that the trace of the (external) enmity of the two brothers was plucked up by his firm bravery; he determined to march towards Kasdár, in order that the vain pride of the Prince of that country, which he had long endured with self-restraint, might be stripped off from his intellect by the (sharp) snuff (or sneezing powder) of the sword, and that the demon of darkness, who had displayed masterful and rebellious (inclinations) by intercepting money, might be confined in the bottle^* of victory, by the tingling of Indian scimitars; and that his fine cliffs and commanding mountains, which were the motives of his rage, and the cause of his ambition, might be marked like a withered branch by his sweetly-sounding drumstick, and might be given, as stirred-up dust, to the wind. He commanded the army to move from Ghúzna, by way of Bost, so that a report was spread that his intention was to attack Herát; but a turning took him to the territory of Kasdár. And the Prince of that country was disturbed from the couch of sleep before the shining of the eastern flames of the sun, by the heavy forces of the Sultán around his castle, and was conscious of death before him, and ran out to seek his patronage, and threw himself at the hoofs of the Sultán’s horse, and took upon himself five hundred packets of a thousand dirams which were due. Part he paid in ready money, but the Sultán demanded the remainder with reproaches, and seized fifteen yoke of elephants, which he had stored up for times and seasons of war, and compelled him to pay dutiful submission and obedience, and to engage that he would facilitate the collection of the revenue, and settle the payment of the imposts. And thus he gave the signal to display his banners anew, and with the fulfilment of his wishes, and completion of his happiness, set forward to Gházna.

They call the king who guides the affairs of the people of Garjístan (Georgia) the Shár, as the Turks, Hindus, and Greeks call their respective princes the Khán, the Rai, and the Czar. The Shár of Garjistán was Abú-Nasr, until his son Muhammad arrived at manhood, and he, by the power of youth, and the favour and consent of his comrades, became ruler of the kingdom, which his father, going into retirement, resigned to him. This Prince, by reading books and conversing with the worthy, became highly accomplished, and enjoying the sweetness of learning, was not content with the pleasures of royalty, or the luxuries of earth. The honourable of the world, and the industrious of the age, regarded his Court as the object of their hopes, and the true Kaaba of petitions and requests. They resorted to him from all portions and districts of the world, as the direction of the thought of success, and the brisk market of petitions. And Abú-Alí-Símjúr, when he began to rebel against King Núr, wished to take Garjístan under his own direction, and to bring the Shár under obedience to himself. But both the Shárs placed the hand of repulsion in the face of his desire, and declined all idea of submitting to any other individual’s sway, in the room of that suzerainty of the family of Sámán; obedience to whom had been their perfume and livery, and under the protection of whose sway so long a time had passed. Relying therefore upon the defence of their castles, and the ruggedness of their country, they sent a reply to Abú-Alí. And Simjúr sent Abúl-Kásim, the priest, with a body of the lords of the fief and nabobs of the state, to oppose them. And this army, in traversing the space between the two regions, cut through several mountains on a level with the heavens, and parallel to the horizon, and passed some defiles narrower than the eye of a needle, or than the pressure point of a swaddling band, and stood against them in several stations, engaging them in battle, and many heads were scattered like leaves from the trees, and blood flowed like a stream upon the surface of the earth. And they turned the two Shárs from difficulty to difficulty, until they compelled them to take refuge in a castle at the extremity of their kingdom, so lofty that the ropes of the clouds would be broken in reaching it, and the eagle’s wing fractured in rising to it. And Abúl-Kásim took this country, and laid hand upon their treasure, their magazines, and their goods, and took all into his grasp, until the Amír Nasr-Addin came to the defence. Then Abú-Alí became occupied in heart, and summoned back Abúl-Kásim. And the two Shárs joined the body of the Chiefs of Nasr-Addín in supporting the sovereignty of Núh. So they revenged themselves on Abú-Alí, and saw him subject to their wish, and came to the head (possession) of their kingdom and territory, and there, in short, passed their time in peace and quietness, until the time of the Sultán Yamín-Addoulah.

Utbi relates: When the lords of the provinces bound themselves to allegiance to the Sultán, and at the coronation hurrah reached forth their hands in expressing obedience to him, and decorated the pulpits by the commemoration of his titles, they sent me to the Shárs as an envoy to receive their homage. And when I arrived there they met me with perfect honour, and with sincere eagerness and true zeal, proclaimed him on the top of the roof, and placed on the edge of their coined money the august name of the Sultán, in the year 389. And during my presence (at the Court) letters arrived from the parties who had been defeated at Merú (?) in which a request was made for reinforcements and succour in the war. And the two Shárs being summoned to the war, the Shár Abú-Nasr wrote letters to me, and sent a note to me, supplicating that I would send his kind respects to the Sultán, and assure him of his firm and dutiful attachment to His Majesty, and his opposition to all the adversaries of the empire I in reply wrote this extract to him, “I hoped that God would prolong the continuance of the Shár,” &c., &c. “And praise to God who hath caused the swords of our lord the Sultán to be proclaimed in the pulpits of the God-fearing.”^*

This affair indeed fell out according to the settled conclusion of my discernment, and in the end the news arrived that Ilek-Khán had come to Bukhárá, and was made king, and had taken captive the greater part of the army, and put them in chains, and the rest of the people were scattered and dispersed. And I, on account of the request of the two Shárs, sent letters to the Sultán, and their condition was in the end safely settled in the most satisfactory manner, and their affairs fell out happily, and their rank became well grounded, and their (welfare) was bound up by the Sultán with the absolute necessity of things. And the son of this King Shár came to pay his respects at the Sultan’s throne, and found the most perfect accessibility and freedom. He was for some time attached to the Court, great and honoured; but he moved plans of wickedness and folly inconsistent (with this treatment), and unbecoming words of deceit and treachery towards the kingdom appeared to be uttered by him, that in kings’ courts are the cause of punishment and reproof. By this crime he became like a dissevered branch to His Highness the Sultán, who however looked with an eye of pardon and connivance upon his error, until he requested his dismissal, when the Sultán presented him with suitable gifts and a valuable dress of honour, and thus he found who was the supporter of his honour and the strengthener of his glory. Thus he departed, and affairs for some time remained in the same state, until he conceived the design of further conquest, and wished to collect a numerous army from all quarters, and to be reinforced with great numbers and strength. He therefore dispatched an edict to the Shár, and expected great benefits from him, in requital of the solid and generous favours which the Sultán had granted to him. But the hand of factiousness had seized his skirt, so that he interposed senseless excuses, and weak pretexts, and took the path of delay and torpidity, until his rebellion became plain. And the Sultán, passing by his immediate business, addressed himself to this affair, and giving a reply to Shams, departed for that expedition upon the horse of victory. And mutual letters passed between him and the Shár, and the Sultán summoned him to trial, and in the midst of the royal order which had appointed the cause to be tried, he commenced some overtures towards reconciliation and approximation; recommending the Shár to institute humanity for harshness, and to surcease from such a display of suspicion and alienation; “that he wished not, that the conduct which he had displayed towards him should become ineffectual through a single error, and that the plant of kindness which he had fixed in his behalf should through one slip be rooted up by him.” The Shár became still more alarmed at this gentleness, and by Heavenly decree bound the garland of destruction upon his brow, until he appeared in open rebellion against the Sultán. The Sultán sent to engage with him the Lord Chamberlain Altontásh, and Anslán-Jazib. They directed their course towards his territory, and they carried with them Abúl-Hasan, who was Prince (literally, bailiff) of Merúrúd, on account of the familiarity possessed by him of the windings of those narrow paths, and the clefts of those rocks. And thus they entered into those confines with an army, excellent for their experience in important actions, and for their eagle vision in war, who cut like Egyptian iron, and dived into rivers like crocodiles, and found their way into the passes and ravines of earth like snakes. They took therefore possession of the country. And the father Shár, through the experience of life, well knowing the end of such actions and the practical consequences of meddling in serious times, sought protection in entreating quarter, and requested to capitulate, and fled to the patronage of the guidance and aid of the Chamberlain Altontash, and sought help against the disobedience and rebellion of his son, and declared that he had no part either in his active or passive misconduct, and requested not to be connected with his rebellious and infidel measures, and asked the General’s conciliatory intercession with the Sultán, representing his sincere fidelity to his the suzerain empire, and the brightness of his walk and throne, as respects obedience to the Sultán. They conveyed him with the utmost honour and respect to Herát, and they sent a royal missive from the Sultán accepting his apology, and commending his obedience. Thus they took him unto the pledge of peace. But his son fortified himself in a castle, which had been their place of refuge during the time of the family of Símjúr, and which has been previously mentioned. To this place he transported his treasure, slaves, and furniture. The Chamberlain Altontash, and Arslán-Jazib came down and encompassed this fortress (Verse)

The Sultán’s army levelled great and small slinging machines and batteries towards the side of the castle, and brought one side of the wall to the ground. And the men of the army ran up to those walls like deer, laying their hands to dart and sword, and drew abundance of red (blood) upon the traitor castle. But the Shár perceiving that he was losing hold, sought to escape and requested terms, in order that by supplication and submission, the intoxicated retribution of that terrible (army) might cease, and that he might throw water upon the fire of the anger of those troops. But he discovered, that the enraged lion, when in the extremity of fury he has reached his prey with his claws, relinquishes not his sought object, and that the deadly snake, when in the utmost rancour he determines to sting, withdraws not his irremediably (wounding) teeth. Therefore this devastation went on, until they seized him, and expelled him from the castle, and made booty of his treasure and property. They also took his Vizier, who was the depository of news, and the bag of secrets to him, and placed him upon the square torture instrument (i. e. possibly an instrument that tortures the four limbs) until he gave up his most valuable jewels and precious treasures, and presented the account book of the remaining sums due from the collectors and revenue officers, to obtain it from whom they deputed responsible persons. They appointed Abúl-Hasam to the consolidated charge of attending to the affairs of the country, the throne, and the imposts of those lands, and directed him to arrange the expenses of those regions, and entrusted the fortress to him as confidential Kutwál; and an order came from the Sultán to convey the Shár to the presence, and a strict charge arrived to use him favourably, and to supply him; and in delivering him up to the Sultán, they conveyed him towards Ghazna in a closed litter which he had (Takhti band). They say, that one of his confidential guards wished to write a letter home, and to make known the description of the circumstances of that journey He called the Shár in the litter, and pressed him to compose that letter, the Shár in his distress was vexed with the importunity and impertinence of his inconsiderate Ghulám, and taking the pen, began the letter, writing thus to his wife— “Oh thou bad old woman, perhaps you think that I care not for your extravagance and wickedness in spending my property upon your own will and pleasure, or that I know not how you are passing your time continually in wickedness, in drinking and in squandering money by expending it in every way of iniquity and perverseness; how you are occupied every day in abundance, and every night in splendour, with merriment, luxury, and art, giving my house to the wind, and casting away my honour. If I return I will give you your due, and place your just recompense in your bosom.” He wrote the letter with this playfully high flown language, and fastened it up, and gave it to his guard, and when it reached his wife, she was astounded, and doubted not but that some enemy had made this frightful picture (of her conduct), or that some ill-willer had made it the means of spite. She left her house, and in alarm and disquietude fled to some corner, and when the Ghulám came to his home, he found his residence as empty as a reaped field, and saw no trace of his lady and servants, he remained in confusion, and sought from his neighbours the explanation of this matter. They announced to him the fact of the letter, and recited his abusive and odious words. He cried out for help, and occupied himself in soothing his wife’s heart, and in appeasing her, and removing her terror and alarm, and brought his wife home again quiet and confiding. They told this story of the Shár’s calumnies to the Sultán, who smiled at his teazing moroseness, and ordered that whosoever he appointed to serve the Shár, who did not serve him with patience and readiness should receive such a retribution.

And when the Shár arrived at the Durbár of the Sultán, he ordered them to throw him down, and to give him a rubbing with the whip, in order to correct and punish him, and they imprisoned him; and the Sultán gave a charge to provide duly for the times of his eating food, but so that the consent of the Sultán in that respect should be concealed, that it might not be a cause of boldness, audacity, and impurity. And he made a request that they would send to him one of his favourite guards, and that out of his property, household utensils and furniture, they would restore to him what was necessary for him, to which request the Sultán acceded. And they brought the father from Heràt to the Sultán’s presence, who ordered that they should observe carefully all respect unto him, and the Sultán commanded that they should free their possessions and farms from the brand of disgrace, and the mark of suspicion whereby they had been annexed to the other royal estates (confiscated). And he relinquished the splendour of their wealth to their own disposal, to be expended upon their comfort or their necessities, and the Shaikh Khalil was appointed to attend to Shár Abú-Nasr, who retained him under the protection of his encompassing care, until he departed to the neighbourhood of the mercy of Him who is Truth.

The Sultán, Yamin-Addoulah, in the year 400, having taken India and proceeded into the most distant limits of the land, into regions where Islám had never displayed her standards, and unto parts whereunto the wondrous verses of the Muhammadan profession had never extended, having purified that region from the darkness of denial, and having lighted the blazing torches of the Law in those tracts and towns, having founded mosques, and having exhibited the perusal of the noble book in the verses of the glorious Kurán, in the audible prayer-summons, and in the other signs of the belief; wished to take possession also of the remainder of the land of those vile ones, and to bring ruin upon those enemies of the faith and servants of idols, and to subdue, by the cutting proofs of the sword, the deniers of the unity and glory of God, to catch in the snare of Islám that owl of their confidence, who was hooting in the duskiness of novel errors. Therefore he summoned his victorious armies and heroic bands, and covered them with great honour and eloquent commendation, erecting, as the guide of his plans and the Kiblah of his devoted ones, that verse of the glorious Kurán, “He hath incited the believers; God is able to make them sufficient (to cope with) the powers of those who believe not, for God is mighty in force and mighty to subdue.” And, thus strengthened by the breastplate of purity and pardon, with the pearl of self-command, and the gem of confidence in the help of Heaven, he marched towards his business, with an army of the stars of this world and of the other, with a most lofty assembly. And when he arrived at those territories much snow had fallen, and the mountains and the plains were sprinkled and the roads closed; and a severe frost arose, and the highways were obliterated: so, by the force of necessity, he turned aside from those coasts and came to Ghazna, and displayed great zeal in perfecting his preparations and in exhorting the nobles of the empire, until the face of spring appeared, and the (defying) shout of frost was silenced by the dread of the sword of the sun, and the temperature became equable. Then he commanded that happy work to begin, and, like the green sea raging and roaring, put himself in motion and turned towards those accursed men. And, when he arrived near the enemy, he occupied himself in arranging his army. He posted Amír Nasr on the right, and committed the left to the care of Arslán-Jazib, and Abú-Abdullah-Táí in front, in the van, and the Lord Chamberlain Altontásh, with his private guards, in the centre. But the King of India, terrified at that army, sat down under the protection of the mountain, fortifying himself, and took refuge in a pass between ten high mountains, and strengthened the approaches to those narrownesses by mountain-like elephants, and wrote to seek aid from the provinces of his country, and summoned the cavalry and infantry of his kingdoms, and embraced the expedient of delay, thinking that procrastination and tediousness would thus obstruct the army of Islám in attaining their end, until perhaps, by length of time and long continuance in their position, they might be alarmed and turn back from that attempt at battle, and from that invasion. When the Sultán, dreading their deep and secret perfidy and fraud, incited the men of Dilem and the Afgháns against them, stirring them up to occupy the declivities, and, like an attracting magnet of victory, to draw them to themselves. When, therefore, they descended from their narrow passes into the open plain, they picked them up like a bird picking up grains with a sharp beak. Several days passed in this manner, until the ropes of the deniers became collected, and a great army joined the infidels, so that from Hind and Sind, and all quarters, there was (an army) blowing-up fire, seeking tumult, making self-restraint to repose, bearing aid, and inclined to succour the head of destruction, the fountain of strife. They directed themselves against them, they raised the shout of battle, and joined in array, and drew around the army the obstruction of the giant elephants. Thus the fire of war was burning, and the combatants of the two armies raged like hornets in the heat, and seized one another by the collar, and pierced each other’s head and breast by the wounds of the sword; and heads were cast upon the battle-plain like balls, and wherever the elephants came into the engagement the Muslim army, with spears and arrows, cut through their throats and trunks. And these Kaffirs beheld the strength and experience of Abdulláh-Táí, how active he was in battle and war, and in (shedding) blood and killing chiefs, and therefore they turned towards him with a compact band of warriors and with a number of heroes (literally, stirrers of the fire, pokers) and attacked him on all sides with severe wounds. And he withstood them like an excited male elephant, and to obtain victory for Islám exposed himself freely and offered his life a sacrifice to martyrdom. And when the Sultán saw him in the claws of that distress, he sent some stars from his special guards to help him, that they might rescue him from the claws of those accursed ones. And, as his body was all eyes, like a sieve, and his frame all rings, like a coat of mail, the Sultán ordered that they should place him upon an elephant, that the pain of his wounds might be healed, and receive refreshment and solace. And the flame of battle blazed in this manner, until Heaven quenched it with the water of victory, and at one blast of the good fortune of Mahmúd all their chiding abundance of men was cut up, and all their affairs scattered like dust, and throughout the extent of plain and mountain, and the land of hill and valley, the sword of Islám destroyed them. And they made prizes of their property and elephants, and nobles and people, on account of the advantage of that wealth, and the enjoyment of that plunder, became placed on an equality, and arrived at a high degree of satisfaction and competency. Thus this territory became exalted amongst the extent of Islám, and this victory was perpetuated in the register of the expeditions, and in the chronicles of the conquests of the Sultán Yamín-Addoulah, and this fair deed, and eminent glory became the buttress of his fame, and the band of his prosperity.

And they brought out of the idol temple an engraved stone, upon which they had fastened a writing to the effect that it was forty thousand years since that building was constructed. And the Sultán expressed surprize at this extreme error and folly, for all the learned in rules, and skilled in guidance have agreed that the extent of the world’s age is not more than seven thousand years, and in these times there is every indication of the (approaching) judgment, and evidences of the decay of the world. Histories are alleged for this, and the Kurán’s witnessing confirmation is to the discerning intellect an essential fact, and to the farseeing is a guide (to the truth). In these matters we must be content with the eyes of the learned and the explication of the wise, who all deny the assertion, and agree that the testimony of this stone is all a falsehood and untruth, and a mere invention of these bewildered liars.

And the army of Islám came to Ghazna with that boundless wealth, and those numberless sums of money, so that the forces of the foot soldiers of Islám were retarded in proceeding through India, and slaves fell in value to that extent, that the poor and humble became lords, and possessors of many slaves and goods beyond computation. “This super-effluence (of prosperity) God causes to come upon whomsoever He will, for He is bountifully wise.”— Kuran.

It came to the ears of the Sultán, that in the country of Táníshar there were many of that peculiar species of elephant, which they call Silmán. The prince of this country was high amongst the ungrateful deceivers, and of exalted relations amongst the rebellious and the sinful. Therefore he was one who merited that they should give him to drink a cup of the wine of the strokes of Islám’s sword, and that by means of the flame of the onset of her champions, they should strike into his essence the due of wickedness, so making him to know, that to drink their turns of this cup, and their turns of this calamity is the doom of the universal Kaffir people, and that as other chiefs and deceivers of India have been sharers and partakers thereof, so his face could not be free, nor his path an asylum from the equitable sword; the Sultán thought good then to design this conquest, that thus the standard of Islám might be exalted by victory, and the figures of idols might be inverted by success in war. Accordingly he marched towards Táníshar with an army which had been educated in the chamber of the sacred war, and been trained by grace from on high, and contracted friendship with sword and spear, and obtained an acquaintance with infidel’s blood, and in the windings of those marches they passed a desert so dreadful, that a bird would not fly over its atmosphere, and a star would lose its way on its expanse, a place which nothing traversed but the wind, and on which nothing cast a shade except the Sun, without a report of water, or a vestige of habitation. But Providence granted aid, and they came out from that idolatrous and disgusting place, and arrived at (the enemy’s land). And before them they found a great river, a running stream full of water, lofty mountains, and the ground impracticable stone. Now the infidel sought his aid in those mountains, and became inspirited by their encircling assistance. The army of the Sultán passed that water by two fords, and engaged the idolatrous forces on two sides. And when the king-falcon, the sun, hung his claws upon the curtain of his western retirement, (the day having been matured), the men of Islám made a charge, and scattered them all about the skirt of the rocks, and they took the path of flight and preservation from the heat of that battle and onset. And as for those stamping elephants and serried monsters which constituted the point of their confidence, and their remaining force, they left them on the spot, the Sultán’s elephants went after them, and brought them all to the Sultán’s halter-place. The army spilt so much blood that the water of that river was so full, and that stream so abundantly stained with gore, that it could not be used for purification and was forbidden to drinkers, and if the darkness of the night had not prevented it, not one of these wretches would have escaped with life,— all through the blessing which is upon Islám, and the wondrous religion of Muhammád, unto which by the kind promise of Heaven victory is pledged, and for the manifestation of whose sayings, the standard of the glorious Kurán speaks plainly, “He unto whom He sent his Apostle to guide him, and the faith of truth to lighten all to religion, even although the idolaters hate it.”— Kuran.

This Vizíer was one of the most celebrated book-students and one of the most eminent friends of Fáík, and when the Sultán had been settled upon the seat of authority at Nisápúr, he was about (the person of) the Amír Násir-Addin, well known to him on account of his perfect intelligence, fidelity, and penetration. Therefore he wrote a letter to Prince Núh, demanding him, in order that the Sultán might be established by the sufficiency of his counsels, and might be distinguished by the badge of his vizírát. Prince Núh consented, and, sending a letter to Abúl-Abbás, directed him to proceed to Nisápur, to be ready for the orders of Nasir-Addin. Thus he came to Nisápúr, and the Sultán appointed him steward of his household (although the exemplary Shaikh, Jalil-Shams-al-Kafát, was settled at his Court, whose skill in books and accounts, whose firmness, rectitude, and high-mindedness in directing and instructing he knew, and was aware that, in his freshness of youth and acceptable juvenility, he was without a rival amongst his friends and companions, whilst in acute and able experience no man of his circle approached him). However (as his father had shut the door of office upon his back, and the calumnies and rivalries of fraudful ill-willers had come to such a point that he became a martyr by the hand of Nasir-Addin, who, when the truth was unfolded, repented, but to no purpose “When I saw that I had killed him I repented about him”) he took an aversion to his son, and his heart was never settled with regard to him, and, according to the saying, “Good-will soon flies,” became suspicious of his fidelity. Nor could the Sultán, in opposition to his father’s content, distinguish him by any advantageous employment in his divan, or ask his advancement, on account of his own choice. The heavenly decree and divine foreordinance preserved and wrapped the dress of that great rank and the robe of that weighty business in the treasury of His mysteries, until the time that, from the door and walls of Khurásán, it was shown to him that they had found this robe of State to be adapted only for his high-statured intellect, and placed this seat only for his exalted qualities and disposition. “What mercies hath God opened to men and they will not grasp them.”— Kuran.

The Sultán then followed the opinion and accorded with the feelings of his father, bestowing the office of Vízier upon Abúl-Abbás, and he, following the footsteps of great men and their greediness of gain, extended his hand, and collected much wealth and treasure, and employed his stewardship of the world and authority in the kingdom only in making excessive demands, increasing and unlawful, so that right rule, justice, and equity were banished far from abodes, from society, from the people, until, by his means, all cultivation and all abiding places in Khurásán were devastated, so that, during his time, the helpless ryots and rich masters sat down in the dwelling of poverty, and became needy and pauperized, so that smoke arose from no chimney, and one heard the cock crow from no village, for the farmers and cultivators, on account of these distresses, misfortunes, and hard fate, left their homes and held their hand from sowing, so that the sources of revenue were broken off, and the collection of taxes, on account of the slenderness of the residue, were exhausted. Thus the sustentation of the army and the means of supporting the forces were diminished, and throughout the kingdom frightful ruin and a hideous appearance were evident, and a cry for help arose from all quarters, and this cry of the oppressed reached to Heaven. The Sultán began to be anxious respecting the diminution of the levies and the breaking up of the imposts, and began to open the book of reproof with the Vízier, and to call him to an account for the debts of this destruction and mismanagement. But he, in his hastiness and want of restraint, returned a rude reply and made a claim to an acquittance, and attributed the grounds of the dispute unto others. And whenever the Sultán proceeded to extreme reproof upon this subject, he begged to be relieved from that office and expressed a wish to be redeemed from that employment, and declared his readiness to be dismissed and to be made to vanish (from life). And the notables of the kingdom interposed between him and the Sultán, suggesting that he should oblige himself to an accommodation and give personal security, and should render a satisfactory account. But he stood out obstinately, so that the Sultán did not obtain one silver drachm from him, unless he, perchance, would do so by depriving and imprisoning him. Thus he spoke with tiresome and offensive arguments. Then the Sultán appointed a landholder, Abú-Ishak Muhamnad-’bn-Husain, who was captain of Balkh, to settle the accounts of the revenue and to realize the residue of the imposts. And he came to Herát, in the year 401, and, by his fair management and gentle sway, collected a great sum, and in a short time sent large loads to the Treasury. And Abúl-Abbáss was still settled upon the seat of the Vizirát, and the Shaikh Jalíl-Shams-Al-Kafát sincerely exerted himself to arrange reconciliation between him and the Sultán, so that possibly the accidental harshness of the Sultán might have ceased, and the influence of the Vizier thoroughly re-established. But he, through the bent of his uncompromising temperament and harsh nature, still obstinately persisted in disputing, and of his own choice went to the citadel of Ghazna, and declared that he was content to be imprisoned, and, making a division between his furniture and his accumulations, sent one portion to the Sultán.

At this proceeding the Sultán was enraged, and, for his traitorous injury to the country and impoverishment of the condition of the subjects, subjected him to a criminal fine of 100,000 dínárs. He occupied himself in paying the amount, and discharging a portion; but, as to the residue, he represented his poverty, and requested patience and a more extended time. But the Sultán ordered that they should put him to his oath upon the point of his poverty, and they tortured his crime upon him by the effusion of his blood, so that whether he was dumb or spake, whether he said much or little, he met with no success, since they were determined to ruin and afflict him. And they closed all access to his sons and his friends, when they appointed to visit him, and at length brought him to such a condition that he revealed that some of his stores were with a certain merchant, whom they for that reason despatched, by various kinds of torture and misery. But the standards of the Sultán were far distant, on account of his successive conquests, and the great space between them prevented him from witnessing his state or discovering his affairs, and thus, through the castigation of torture and the blows of the club and pain, he was laid in the grave, in the year 404. And when the Sultán returned they informed him of his affair, and the Sultán was oppressed at the heart, when he heard what had happened; however the disposal of Heaven was the agent herein, and the event was advantageous. And, during the time of his administration, his son, Abúl-Kasim-Mahummad-Ibn-al-Fazl, had arrived at the highest degree of virtuous distinction. In eloquence and in composition he was the paragon of his age, and at the head of all poets, both in blank verse and rhyme. His fame spread through all the regions of Khurásán, and his verses and measures were noted and published. These stanzas are from a kasidah which he spoke upon his father’s merit (Verse)

His brother Abú-Alí-bn-Fazl, surnamed Al-Hajjáj, was the inheritor of their accomplishments, distinguished by steady conduct in youth and maturity, decorated with an acute intellect, the garden of modesty being in him adorned with the fruitfulness of eloquence. He for some time wore the robe of revenue collector of Juzján, with efficiency and gratification. The country of Nisá had for some time the advantage of his administration, when even Kadies were distressed at his noble ideas. His fidelity and care were conspicuous amidst officers and magistrates, and in him the virtues of his ancestors were renewed (Verse)

During the reign of the Sultán this Shaikh was Royal Munshí at Khurasán, and to him was confided the Divan (or Committee board) of correspondence, which is the depository of secrets. His powerful intellect and intelligence, &c., shone like the sun’s rays throughout all Khurasán, and the fame of his elegant pen, gentle nature, penetrating intelligence and lofty views with regard to worldly things and money, was diffused around. He rose by degrees to various ranks in the Sultán’s service, until he was appointed to the Divan of Presentations (Master of Bequests), and on account of his preponderance, the Sultán assigned him the high employment, and responsible office of collecting the revenue and levies of those regions, and in all affairs which in guiding those provinces came into his consideration, he displayed all the evidences of wisdom, efficiency, care and fidelity. Thus he attained renown, and his humanity, bounty and liberality were in every mouth, so that they came from all parts of the world to him, as the object of their hopes and petitions. He was like rain in his care and attention to all, the proofs of his kindness and generosity could be established only by the testimony of observation and by the eyes. And the Vízíer Abúl-Abbás derived information from his enlightened sufficiency in affairs of State, and formed a special intimacy with him, as well for his sagacity as on account of his office which he held so near to His Majesty, and when the Sun of that vizérát was eclipsed by the excrescence of dismissal, whilst the Sultán happened to be engaged in the conquest of Názdín, he committed to the care of the Shaikh Khalil all the affairs of his Divan, charging him with the care of his Court and household, and the outgoings of the revenue, and sending him a patent, whereby he was appointed to superintend all that was brought or accrued to the royal treasury, and although he did not receive the name of Vízíer, yet the whole business of the kingdom was fully appropriated to him. And whilst the vizárát lay under the curtain of dismissal, the Sultán issued a royal order, by which he summoned the collectors of Khurasán to the presence, and demanded their accounts, and they accordingly attended at the Court; at that time the Sultán had resolved to turn back, and he appointed a number of his army and serving followers over the head of the collectors to act as motives to them, that by the most disgraceful coercion, they might bring in the greater possible amount of revenue. And while this was going on, the Sultán placed him upon the seat of authority, and honoured him with the robe of Vízíer, and delivered into his hand the power of binding and loosing, of imprisoning and liberating. This Shaikh Khalil devoted himself with prudent efficiency, to expedite, to enter in day books, to settle and to arrange the Customs and scattered business, and compelled the collectors to zeal and duty, and purified the extent of the kingdom from its destruction and decay. He placed Abú-Ishak, one of the Divan over the collectors of Khurasán, and in conducting his office he shone like his father as administrator and counsellor of the throne, and when the standard of the Sultán returned to Ghazna, and he saw that by the wise and happy management and rule of his Vízíer, the affairs of State were settled in a well ordered course, and all affairs of collection secured, confirmed and guarded, he sent him to the Súbah of Khurasán, that he might attend to the weakness which he had discovered there, and put in a proper way of proceeding the revenues so much diminished and fallen away, and prescribe good and acceptable regulations for Khurasán. The Shaikh Khalil went therefore to Herát, and the dread of his command and rule bound the hands of oppressors behind their back, and overthrew the flags of darkness, and whatever they had acquired out of the receipts and expenditure by means of confusion and in time of tumult, and whatever they had collected by extortion and procuration, that he seized from them, and thus by his gentle vigour, he dispatched to His Majesty an amount of gold and silver, of plate, ready money, and vessels dedicated to pious uses, the like whereof had at no time ever reached the treasury of any king from Khurasán.

And the people of Khurasán sent statements and notes to the Court, discovering the evil practices of the Diván lord (i. e., whom the Vízíer had sent thither). The Sultán issued an order to enquire into the truth of this, and sent commissioners to realize and sell his property. They obtained much wealth from him: he gave up whatever ready money and furniture and vessels he possessed, and sold the residue of his slaves, but was excused the payment of the rest which he had sold. And whereas the Vízíer Abúl-Abbás possessed no capital stock in the business of writing, and profited not at all in handling the pen, and in lecturing on good manners (i. e., belles lettres, humanities) so that, in his time, they translated the State writings into Persian, and thus the market of the excellent was ruined and the splendour of eloquent authors became slender, so that the learned and foolish, the virtuous and insignificant, were reduced to the level of the same rank. When the Shaikh Khalíl adorned the Musnud of Vizier he brought the stars of authors from the gulphs of declination to the zenith of glory, so that the rose of ingenuity and distinction budded in the breeze of his favour, and the countenance of the clever was exalted in his fostering abode. He commanded that the State writers should avoid Persian, and that as an established rule all diplomas, orders, and preaching, (or public proclamations) should be written in Arabic, except where the proclaimers did not know or understand Arabic. His orders and intimations were famed throughout all parts of the world, as current proverbs, and circulating poems, and all tongues commended his beautiful models and ornamented examples. The ingenious ones of the world in their verses and rhymes decorated the title pages of their volumes with his praises and commendations, and came with song, like nightingales into the garden of his presence. He took all ranks under his beneficent and kind favour, and by his blessed equity united all the community under the shadow, veil, and canopy of his virtuous security, so that the world became peopled, and hearts wounded and diseased by sorrow, were healed by the medicine and plaister of his attention and knowledge. By his counsels he incited the Sultán to be firm in the principles of rectitude, and to seek the reward of the other world. Thus the state of the world and the empire became regulated and fixed, and all being settled upon the basis of knowledge and foresight, became firmer by lapse of time. May his (memorial) columns become higher as days advance, and may the building (of his fame) become stronger and firmer unto the fated end of time (Verse)

Shams-Al-Muálí, on account of his penetrating acuteness, and specially restless mind, when it was necessary to endure with patience, was harsh tempered and overbearing, and from his austere conduct and perpetually passing round the cup of his violence was never at peace with any one. If mildness of disposition had been in him as weighty as a stone mountain, he would have summoned it from its summit, by his light sword as by lightning, and if any sedateness could have been ever attributed to him, through the slappings of the billows of his anger it had become a myth in the green sea, for the smallest offence he inflicted a harsh punishment. He had no compassion or fear of shedding blood, he punished and corrected only by the cutting sword and raised spear, and his prisons were but cavern sepulchres fitted to receive bodies (catacombs).

Hence the people were destroyed by him, so that hearts were broken by dread of him, and breasts shattered by hatred of him. For if by various means of execution and coercion for casual errors and accidental slips, one must die, or be distressed, what purity from all sin and corruption exists in prophets, so that spirits retained no strength, and souls were furious. And there was a worthy man, his Chamberlain, a man of gentle and guileless nature, known and remarked by all for a peaceful disposition, to whom the guardianship and controlling of the taxes of those places had been entrusted. Him they accused of rebellion, and the prince ordered him to be killed, and he, declaring his innocence sought succour in absconding and flying. He remained some time in his place of refuge, when his retreat was discovered, and although he at the time then present showed his fidelity and stability during time past, he obtained no favour. His execution increased the disgust of the army, and all hearts resolved to draw off the bridle of obedience, and openly to embrace the word of rebellion and of freedom of their lives from the obnoxious moroseness of His Highness. And whilst this was going on, he went out from Juzján, and by reason of the aid of absence the fuel was renewed in the troops, and through the arrangement of the army and their malicious ill-will, he remained without intelligence of their movements until they seized upon his castle, and plundered his goods, arms, horses, &c. His nobles stood up to repel them, and protected him from the malice of their enmity. And when the design of these people failed in the object they had intended to attain, they went to Juzján, and took that city by force and perseverance into their possession. And they summoned the Amír Manuch-har from Tabaristán, and he, on account of his vexation and the ruin of this event to his father, and the deep treachery of those people, hastened on, in order to take the direction of this affair. But when he arrived at Juzján, he saw the army broken up into mutiny, and the affair out of his hands. The regiments of the army then sent a message to him, thus:— If you will agree with us with respect to the deposition and dismissal of your father, we will bind up our loins with faithful zeal to serve you, and will be obedient, but if not, we will inaugurate some other man, or go to some other place. And the Amír Manuch-har saw no remedy but to obliterate all, and join them, for he thought that the curtain of respect was torn, that the fountain of strife and hatred might augment, and his old house fall from his hands. As to Sham-Al-Muálí, when he understood the coalition of their words in rebellion, and their agreement in all kinds of ill-will, he removed himself to Bastám with his light and heavy furniture, the royal seals, and the rest of his property, and awaited the end and boundary of the affair. And when the army received intelligence of this event, they compelled Manuch-har to attack him and remove him from that place, and by dint of necessity he went with them, and repelled wrong by wrong, and put fire upon fire. When, then, they came near Kabús he summoned his son, and Manuch-har coming to wait upon him, kissed the ground of respect, sate before him with the utmost submission, tears flowing from his eyes, and they began to enter into deep reflexions and complaints respecting recent events, and on both sides much passed between them on a son’s duty to his father, and a hundred pledges were given that the former should protect the latter from their violence. And the Amír Manuch-har said to his father, if you will permit me, I will risk my head in repulsing these forces, and freely yield up my life, and offer myself as the guardian of your existence, and sacrifice myself for your safety. Upon this Shams-Al-Muálí gave him the expression of his gladness of heart, and drawing him towards himself, kissed his face and said, I am now at the end of all my history, and the conclusion of my adventures, and you are the inheritor of my kingdom and my house. But this conduct of yours will merit distinction during my life and after my death. Upon this he consigned to him the seal of State, and delivered to him the keys of his treasures. And it was determined to place Shams-Al-Muálí in the castle of Khabashak, and make him engage himself in piety and devotion, and that he should resign royalty, and the right of binding and loosing to Manuch-har. They therefore removed Shams-Al-Muálí, to a dwelling within that fortress, with all his furniture, and servants, which they had preserved to him, and Manuch-har came to Juzján.

And Kabús occupied himself in taking possession of his property, and in conciliating the chiefs, and courting the commons. But notwithstanding all his attentions, and his earnest desire to be of service to all, hoth high and humble, time passed, and they found themselves not softened with regard to his errors, nor was their detestation of the past oppressions and horrible crimes of Kabús diminished, and they examined every avenue of contrivance or treachery, in order to set their minds at rest concerning him. And as their wish was so it was fulfilled; for when all had arrived at peace and quietness, they perverted his secretary that in order to extinguish and end his life, (he should permit) that his bed makers should enter his sleeping chamber, and they drew sheet after sheet, (or cloak after cloak) so as to be closely glued upon him,^* and thus saw him dead, (or drew cloak after cloak from the furniture of his bedchamber (upon him) and thus beheld him dead).

Thus they obtained their wish, and became at ease from the dread of the thunderbolts of his sword and spear. They interred him in a domed sepulchre outside Juzján, on the road to Khurasán. His fate is intimated by the elegant poet (Verse)

And the Amír Manuch-har completed three days upon the seat of mourning, and after three days took his seat upon the throne, and being inaugurated by the army forgot Kabús. “There is no converse between Hajún and Safá” (mountains of Mecca). “There is no night gossip at Mecca.” And a diploma arrived from the Chancery of the Khaliph Al-Kádir-Billáh to the Amír Manuchhar, containing condolence and sympathy, conferring upon him the surname of Falk-Almuálí, and wishing him Heaven’s grace and happy guidance. And he was also protected by the mountain of the Sultán’s friendship and requested the support of being admitted one of the peers and followers of the Empire. Thus the fracture of his father’s circumstances became filled up by the weight of the interweaving friendship and pity of the Sultán, and by putting on the cloak of his aid and (seeking) utility under his dread shadow. And he sent several distinguished men of the Court to his presence, and he offered to the Sultán liberal presents, precious gems, and no scanty valuables, and assured him of his sincere wish and pure intention as respected his allegiance to His Majesty. The Sultán looked upon these gifts with an eye of favour, and returned a corresponding reply to his desire and petition, and marked the weights and measures of his regard with the standard of his good-will. And he gave a royal letter, ordaining that in the Amír’s country, the public prayers and the coins should be edged with the embroidery of his august surname. And he sent his signet-bearer Abú-Muhammad upon that journey to him, with a proper robe and perfect caresses. And the Amír Manuch-har, received this order with the ear of assent and obedience, and carried it out to the utmost, so that in the pulpits of the kingdoms of Juzján, and Tabaristán, and Koms and Dárughán, the insignia of the Sultán’s style were displayed. Also, he was bound to pay five thousand dínars by way of tribute, which he sent every year to the treasury, and when the Sultán marched forth to fight for religion, he requested an army from him, and he sent to battle from the choice and flower of the men of Dilem, forces, who in ascending were like clubs (or maces), and in descending like a torrent, all fully equipped and provided with necessaries to the satisfaction of the exalted temperament, and he established confidence and faithfulness in supplying his necessities and furthering his measures. And when the atoms of his happy disposition towards His Majesty arrived at (coalescing) unity, and the sincerity of his allegiance was confirmed, and the clearness of friendship emerged from the dusky ashes of suspicion, he sent to His Majesty Abú-Said-Sawál, a chief of Juzján, an eminent man, skilled in genealogy and etiquette, to propose that the bonds of friendship should be strengthened by the ropes of alliance. And he demanded the honour of a marriage with one of the noble ones of His Majesty’s chamber. This Envoy with his usual modest virtues and innate laudable gravity, proceeded to this business, and succeeded so well in advancing his desire and prospering his wishes that the Sultán gave a loose rein to the promotion of his request, and the success of his hopes, so that the claims of Falk-Almuálí became attached to consent. And when this great man returned to the Amír’s Court, and represented the favours and honours which he had received, he mentioned the ready inclination of the Sultán to reply to his plea, and satisfy his request. Upon this, Falk-Al-Muálí sent him again to the Court, and joined with him the Kadi of Juzján, a senator of learning, a corner stone of theology, and a pillar of experience, that by his perfect forethought and skill he might bring the union in prospect to the bond of marriage and girdling together. These two accordingly went to the Court, and offered their respects and requested that the marriage might be finally concluded. Then the Sultán bound the Satans of wickedness by the Divine Law’s decrees, and gave to Falk-Al-Muálí a precious one, who was a corner of his heart, and the Venus in the heaven of his kingdom; a gem, fit only to be attached to the pinnacle of the hat of the sky, and a pearl of pearls only fit for the rolling heavens, and a bridal bed of queens, worthy only of the chamber of princes. At these nuptials such gifts, presents, gratifications and jewels were diffused and distributed that they would fill the record of time, and form a decorated border for the roll of all the acts of generosity. Ambassadors were sent to inform him of the accomplishment of his wishes, and Falk-Al-Muálí sent a dowry of such an amount, that the renown of his magnanimity and generosity spread throughout the world, and none of the lords and princes remained without his share of noble gratifications and keepsakes. The Sultán reciprocated his homage by various noble acts, and fulfilled all that might respond to the expression of his allegiance, and was due to the claims of kindred. And he managed the principal chiefs and eminent men of his Court with precious honours and valuable robes, so that he became the model of Kings, and example of Sultáns in the world, and by his alliance with the pearl-producing shell of royalty and illustrious jacinth of sovereignty, his wealth advanced until it exceeded all that in any age had been stored up by the confluence of all the pens of book-keepers, or of those wise in understanding accounts. And as the moon’s disk becomes illuminated by the sun opposite to it, and the womb of the gem-bearing shell is moistened by the gift of the sea, so the treasury of Falk-Al-Muálí became as full of riches, as the Ocean repository of brilliant pearls, or as a mine of jewels.

And when, by the support of that alliance, and by reason of that affinity, the affairs of the Amír were placed upon a firm basis, he began to arrange the affairs of his army, and to take vengeance upon the parties who had been concerned in the blood of Shams-Al-Muálí, and by various methods of guile and kinds of pretexts, he made a breach between those parties and their allies, and killed them all. But the son of Kharkash, who had been the source of the dissensions, fled from among them, and became a wanderer in the world, distressed and cast away, and no trace of him remained. And in all the odiousness of that sin, and the accusation of that wickedness, Abúl Kasim was implicated, who was Commander of the army, and in the highest position of the kingdom. He remained wavering between hope and fear, looking for grief and tormenting anxiety. And Falk-Al-Muálí tore out his eyes, and (then) adopted the expedient of procrastination and delay, and deceived by feigned indifference and neglect, in order thus by stimulating his eagerness and longing for safety to draw him into the catching-trap, so that in the meeting of questioners (examiners) his tales were stopped, and the way of escape closed. However, the time of every affair is foreseen, and its issue defined, and its end known to the Disposer, and He in guiding affairs, can hasten or retard in a manner that is not imagined. Abúl Kasim fled through a stratagem from prison, and wandered in various regions, until he came to Nisápúr to the Sultán’s Court, and sought an asylum in his protection, thinking that he should thereby obtain safety from the consequences of his serious deeds of shame and odious actions, on account of the intimate alliance and connection that existed, as well as by the expanded discrimination, and the unity of counsel that was established between their Highnesses. He however knew not, that people slay those who slay, and that retribution like the bent bowstring, circles round the evil doer, and although the time be slow, finds a place to hit him on at last; and although the time was postponed, he at length fell into the trap of sorrow and the snare of misery. Doubtless the picture of his vile deeds was made known to the Sultán, for he commanded that he should be bound and delivered up to Falk-Al-Muálí, and Ibn-Rúmí hath composed these two verses of pure counsel and elegant admonition (Verse)

After Dárá, from the party of Abu-Ali, had translated himself to that of Prince Núh, he became attached to his service and a candidate for his munificence; and when his father, Shams-Al-Muálí, came to the head of affairs he still remained in contented obedience to his father, observing and preserving before him the affection, intimacy, and union of a son with his parent, until the latter sent him to Tabaristán. Here he was settled for some time, retaining his allegiance, governing well, and able to answer those who disputed his father’s authority, until he, on account of some suspicion that beset him, recalled and sent him to Astérábád. He obediently proceeded thither, and illuminated the royal diploma (and grant) of the country, so that his father accepted all his excuses and delighted to honour his advances. After some days he again summoned him, and Dárá became thoughtful. He took his seat to go to his father, but on the road he repented, and, seizing the reins, went into the depths of the forests of Tabaristán, towards Khurásán. They intimated this event to Shams-Al-Muálí, who dispatched cavalry after him. He proceeded the whole distance, and when he arrived on the frontiers of Khurásán, being safe from the vehement winds of the fury, and the blasts of the fiery rage of his father, he attached himself to the Sultán, and found with him a settled home and sure abode, and was honoured with every attention. But, through the giddiness of youth and want of gravity, he in the assemblies of the Sultán made light of Mahmúd’s kindred and rank. He thus became obnoxious to the rancour of the Sultán, and had cause to be alarmed at his jealousy, and therefore escaped under the star of the border of night. The Sultán sent persons in quest of him, but they attained not the place of the setting orb, for he came to the land of Gharsh, to the Shár-king, who, influenced by the long friendship which had existed between them, gave him an asylum at his Court. The Sultán sent a royal letter, in which he demanded him, and reiterated promises and threats. The Shar, in alarm and terror at consequences, sent the Amir Dárá to the Sultán. He was for some time in prison, enduring the harshness of fortune. Upon one occasion, by some unknown means, he escaped, and if the destined duration of his sorrow had been accomplished he would have attained safety. However the rawness of his days of misery and the fated residue of the season of his calamity seized his collar, so that the spies of the Sultán laid hands on him and replaced him in a closer prison, with increased severity and hardship, until the force of the Sultán’s severity diminished and he forgave him, and he revivified him with fresh existence and new life, and issued an order to console and release him, and again conferred upon him his wonted benefits and favours, giving him the land of Tabaristán and Juzján. And he nominated Arslán Jazib to assist and aid him. And if the sagacity of Falk-Almuálí, in displaying allegiance and persisting in his contented good affection towards the Sultán had not put his affairs in a right train, his house and his kingdom would have fallen from his possession.^* However, when that affair was arranged, the Sultán recalled Dárá, who then remained as one of the lords of the empire and associates of the Court. And, at all social meetings, hunting shows, private audiences, and every assembly whatever, he was never away from the Sultán’s eyes, until the time when the Amír Abúl-Fawarás-’bn-Azduddoulah came from Karmán, on account of the dispute with his brother, before the Sultán’s throne, in the hope of assistance against his brother’s oppression. One night Dárá and this Amir met in the Sultán’s presence, when some discussion arose respecting the dignity of their families, the precedency of their chieftains, and the depth of their genealogy, when Dárá spoke words which were inconsistent with the reserve due to his majesty and the wide reverence owing to royalty. And when the denial was given him he repeated the words in a more quarrelsome and insolent manner, and the matter came to such a point that the Sultán caused him to be removed from the company, and the next day imprisoned him in a certain fortress, confiscating all his property, real and moveable, until the Vizier interceded for him, when, in the month Muharram, in the year 400, his estates and lands were delivered to his agents, to be expended for his advantage.

When Hisám-Addoulah-Tásh arrived at Juzján Fakhr-Addoulah wrote to him by the hand of a messenger, and, amongst the contents of that letter, expressed his gladness at the birth of Majduddoulah, discharging the duty of thanks to God for that gift. And these words were contained in this letter: “God hath graciously given me the bounty of a son; I have surnamed him Abú-Tálib, as his Mussulmán appellation, but I have named him Rustám, for he is of the sons of that stock and of that origin.” And when Fakhr-Addoulah migrated to the other palace (died) the army inaugurated him into his father’s lordship. And his mother, Mary (?) was a sister of Asphabad, a lady mainly confident in the greatness of her kindred and in her august tribe. She began to employ towards the army of Dilem, in an authoritative and dictatorial manner, language of binding and loosing, commanding and prohibiting. For this cause bitterness arose between him and his mother, and she sent a person and transferred Badr-Hasanawyat to herself, and seized upon Rai and weakened the authority of her son’s Nawwábs. For this cause much strife took place, and effusion of blood and tumults universally drew on, and the army of Dilem and people of Rai were hereby reduced to distress, and lost strength, and fresh commotions continually arose, and the bands of peace were cut, so that by the lights and revolutions of those confused calamities, whole battalions of the army were destroyed, and through this miserable state of things the hardship of all classes and the ruin of the subjects increased, the country approached desolation, and all men were scattered. And Majduddoulah became wearied with the burning of these times of tumult and with these flames of iniquity. He therefore retired from his office of Amír, and arose to avoid the perverseness of his mother, and conquered the passion of his inclination, so as to obey her, and thus delivered the people from that precipice of undoing, and occupied himself in reading books, and in the society of pen and ink. And his brother, Shams-Addoulah, possessed Hamadan and Karmistán, as far as the frontiers of Bagdád.

And, during their lives, Badr-’bn-Hasanawyat amassed great wealth, and property, and goods, and in various ways of good feeling and humanity, dictated by his warm and great intellect, expended it. And thus, in like manner, Ibn-Fulád, during the days of the family of Boyah, obtained great power, and so high did his authority arrive that the chiefs of Dilem and the principal persons amongst the Kurds, Arabs, and Persians joined his army. And he wrote a letter to Majduddoulah and to his mother, the manager of the kingdom, demanding an increased share of territory, that he might expend the revenues thereof upon the army, and appropriate it to the exigencies of the kingdom, in defending the frontiers of the empire in current necessities, and in repelling enemies. And they returned an answer, alluding to the diminution of the area of the kingdom, and to the decreased glory of the empire, and excused themselves. And he rebelled against them, and turned towards the frontiers of Rai, and plundered them, and seized the lands bordering upon his own region, and took possession of their revenues. Hereby the roads were closed, and the means of abundance and food intercepted. Majaddoulah and his mother therefore wrote to Asphabad, imploring assistance, and he came with a whole division of an army of cavalry, and he frequently gave battle to Ibn-Fulád (i. e., the son of steel) and many perished on both sides. And he wounded Ibn Fulád, and he retreated, and went out towards Damghan. Here he tarried some days, repairing his losses and to be healed of his wounds, and wrote to Falk-Almuálí for aid, requesting him to obtain possession of Rai for him, and surrendering to him the public prayer-distinction, the coinage, and the settled duties, by way of encouragement. And he sent to him two thousand chosen men, who deemed it a noble end to die gloriously, and regarded battle but as wine-drinking and sport. And, in order to gladden Ibn-Fulád and to seal the truth of his good inclination, he sent abundant wealth as a loan. He went then, with this army towards Rai, and began to rob and plunder. The army of Dilem, therefore, suffered great distress and frightful scarcity, so that Majuddoulah and the royal troops were compelled to come. And they conciliated him, and gave Isfahan to him, and he was then appeased, and restrained himself from injury and wrong; and he brought the army to the high road of restraint and the ways of rectitude, so that the pretext of oppression and desolation was cut off; and, in the year 407, he went to Isfahán, and there displayed the insignia of empire, as belonging to Majduddoulah. And Nasrat-Hasan-’bn-Fírúzán, for the reason stated above, proceeded towards Rai, and, from alarm at the ill-will of Kábús and at the complaints respecting his army, came by the way of the wilderness. And, when he arrived at Rai, he passed the space of two years amidst the people of Rai and with the most perfect respect, referred to with confidence in matters of State, and regulating all before and all behind. Then, for some offence, they arrested him and sent him to the fortress of Istonawand. Here he was confined for some time, until they drew the pen of pardon over his offence and brought him to his promised seat in the midst of the kingdom (promised) in those days when he had committed wickedness towards Majduddoulah. From his bad government rectitude was diminished, and the army of Dilem threw off the bridle of allegiance, and began to oppress and attack. And since they threw off the halter of obedience he could not restrain them, so that every one did as he liked, as to murder, rapine, and plunder, except those who were hindered by compassion and the fear of God, through piety and the dread of retribution. Nasr (Nasrat?) indeed attempted to punish them, killing several and expelling some. At length all joined hands and made an assault upon Nasr, and took the surrounding (outer) defences of his palace; and he, with a select force, repulsed them for awhile, but at length he was put to flight, and all his property and possessions passed to them; and afterwards he remained in deep indignation at this calamity, and distressed until he was deposited in the grave.

When the country of Sístán was surrendered to the Sultán, Bihá-Addoulah began to express some desire that he should be admitted to share in the Khutbah, since, on account of the proximity of the two countries, they had been connected in public writings and Khutbahs, and the Sultán, on account of his noble descent and peculiarly high birth, was inclined to an alliance of love and affection; also for the advantage of the kingdom. Noble words passed, and messengers came and went upon the subject. And they sent to Pars (Fars) the Kadi of Nisápúr, Abú (Abr?) Bastámí, a man celebrated throughout the whole world, for his virtues, eloquence, and gravity. And Biha-Addoulah behaved, in expediting that honourable design and favourable position, as became the glorious eminence of the Sultán. Subsequently to his arrival Biha-Addoulah inclined to a new arrangement, and the affair was delayed. And again, as Fakhraddoulah, uncle and heir of his father, governor of Dudman, and a great lord, was settled at Bagdád, the affair could not be conceived without his advice and permission. So he sent the Kadi to Bagdad, to bring this affair to his ears, and to obtain his pleasure upon this proposal. And when he returned from Bagdád Biha Addoulah had left this world empty and found extinction. And his son Abú Shajá was heir of his father, and there arrived a royal letter from the palace of the Khiláfat, to establish him in the dignity, and giving him the surname of Sultán Addoulah. And his feet were firm in his kingdom, and the army placed their head upon the line of obedience. And, with respect to the proposal of marriage which had been made in that mission to his father, he knew not how he ought to answer it. However he committed the duty of communicating and corresponding entirely to the Kádí, on account of his sincere and faithful affection to the Sultán, and his inclination towards the alliance, and his wish that he would imitate his father in his friendship. And he produced, accordingly, a satiety of sincere correspondence and many letters.

But Amír Abúl-Fawáris, his father’s brother, was settled at Karmán. Between them the openings of hatred appeared, and increased so much that Sultán Addoulah sent an army to Karmán, to dispossess him. He earnestly devoted himself to repel it, and a severe engagement took place between them, in which Abúl-Fawáris was defeated, and went to Sistán, to seek an asylum with and to obtain aid from the Sultán. The latter sent to the Amír Nasr-’bn-Nasir-Addín a special message, enjoining that he should honour his arrival, and that he should consider it his bounden duty to take pains in arranging his residence, and providing for his retinue. He was, moreover, to give the Amír two thousand dinárs, by way of an offering (of welcome) and send the Prince to him. And the Amír most fully carried out his wishes, so that all the world wondered, and confessed that at no time had any kings or Sultáns taken such pains concerning other kings and princes, or, by the rain and sea of remarkable gifts and generosity, had displayed such special thoughts and humanity; and the renown of this act and the echo of these benefits reached the extremities of the world. He went out to meet him, treated him with splendour and magnificence, and gave him gold, silver, horses, and other presents, such as the imagination could not embrace, and such as could not come into the human mind— (into the mind of any mortal) except the royal mind of the Sultán, before whose eyes wealth was like gnats, which are not weighed; or dust, which is not of any account. He remained six months at Court, more esteemed than the Sultán’s sons and more honoured than his brothers. And after six months he felt inclined to return to his own country, and requested succour from the Sultán. The latter provided him with many troops, well equipped and armed, and dispatched, to attend upon him, Abú-Said-Táín, one of the most eminent learned writers of the Court, with an army which had contracted an affection for war and contest, and become accustomed to a recurrence of victories and supremacy of strength, the very edge of rapine and plunder (Verse)

With this army the Amír Abúl-Fawáris arrived at Karmán, and the army posted there, knowing that they had not strength to cope with them, retreated, and he was re-established in his kingdom, upon his promised throne. And Abú Saíd, having accomplished this affair, returned, accompanied by his army. Some time passed, during which he preserved the respect and due reverence to the Sultán, and nothing happened that might destroy the structure which he had founded, or render useless the seat which he had arranged for him. At length the Sultán determined to return to Ghazna, and his terrible standards were far distant, and the Amír Abúl-Fawáris remained without shield or protection. Hereupon Sultán Addoulah sent another army against him, which defeated him. He fled to Hamadán, to Shams-Addoulah; and he, on account of the claims of kindred, and with the idea of being keeper of his property, and of gain, displayed zeal for his advantage. But afterwards an imagination flew before him, and he thought that the Amír Shams-Addoulah would display treachery to him, seize him, and send him to Sultán Addoulah. For this cause he went from Hamadán, to Bagdád. The rest of his adventures shall be given in their place, please God.^431b