One day the people of Armán petitioned Kai-khosráu to remove from them a
grievous calamity. The country they inhabited was overrun with herds of
wild boars, which not only destroyed the produce of their fields, but
the fruit and flowers in their orchards and gardens, and so extreme was
the ferocity of the animals that it was dangerous to go abroad; they
therefore solicited protection from this disastrous visitation, and
hoped for relief. The king was at the time enjoying himself amidst his
warriors at a banquet, drinking wine, and listening to music and the
songs of bewitching damsels.
The glance of beauty, and the charm
Of heavenly sounds, so soft and thrilling,
And ruby wine, must ever warm
The heart, with love and rapture filling.
Can aught more sweet, more genial prove,
Than melting music, wine, and love?
The moment he was made acquainted with the grievances endured by the
Armánians, he referred the matter to the consideration of his
counsellors and nobles, in order that a remedy might be immediately
applied. Byzun, when he heard what was required, and had learned the
disposition of the king, rose up at once with all the enthusiasm of
youth, and offered to undertake the extermination of the wild boars
himself. But Gíw objected to so great a hazard, for he was too young, he
said; a hero of greater experience being necessary for such an arduous
enterprise. Byzun, however, was not to be rejected on this account, and
observed, that though young, he was mature in judgment and discretion,
and he relied on the liberal decision of the king, who at length
permitted him to go, but he was to be accompanied by the veteran warrior
Girgín. Accordingly Byzun and Girgín set off on the perilous expedition;
and after a journey of several days arrived at the place situated
between Irán and Túrán, where the wild boars were the most destructive.
In a short time a great number were hunted down and killed, and Byzun,
utterly to destroy the sustenance of the depredators, set fire to the
forest, and reduced the whole of the cultivation to ashes. His exertions
were, in short, entirely successful, and the country was thus freed from
the visitation which had occasioned so much distress and ruin. To give
incontestable proof of this exploit, he cut off the heads of all the
wild boars, and took out the tusks, to send to Kai-khosráu. When Girgín
had witnessed the intrepidity and boldness of Byzun, and found him
determined to send the evidence of his bravery to Kai-khosráu, he became
envious of the youth's success, and anticipated by comparison the ruin
of his own name and the gratification of his foes. He therefore
attempted to dissuade him from sending the trophies to the king, and
having failed, he resolved upon getting him out of the way. To effect
this purpose he worked upon the feelings and the passions of Byzun with
consummate art, and whilst his victim was warm with wine, praised him
beyond all the warriors of the age. He then told him he had heard that
at no great distance from them there was a beautiful place, a garden of
perpetual spring, which was visited every vernal season by Maníjeh, the
lovely daughter of Afrásiyáb.
"It is a spot beyond imagination
Delightful to the heart, where roses bloom,
And sparkling fountains murmur--where the earth
Is rich with many-colored flowers; and musk
Floats on the gentle breezes, hyacinths
And lilies add their perfume--golden fruits
Weigh down the branches of the lofty trees,
The glittering pheasant moves in stately pomp,
The bulbul warbles from the cypress bough,
And love-inspiring damsels may be seen
O'er hill and dale, their lips all winning smiles,
Their cheeks like roses--in their sleepy eyes
Delicious languor dwelling. Over them
Presides the daughter of Afrásiyáb,
The beautiful Maníjeh; should we go,
('Tis but a little distance), and encamp
Among the lovely groups--in that retreat
Which blooms like Paradise--we may secure
A bevy of fair virgins for the king!"
Byzun was excited by this description; and impatient to realize what it
promised, repaired without delay, accompanied by Girgín, to the romantic
retirement of the princess. They approached so close to the summer-tent
in which she dwelt that she had a full view of Byzun, and immediately
becoming deeply enamoured of his person despatched a confidential
domestic, her nurse, to inquire who he was, and from whence he came.
"Go, and beneath that cypress tree,
Where now he sits so gracefully,
Ask him his name, that radiant moon,
And he may grant another boon!
Perchance he may to me impart
The secret wishes of his heart!
Tell him he must, and further say,
That I have lived here many a day;
That every year, whilst spring discloses
The fragrant breath of budding roses,
I pass my time in rural pleasure;
But never--never such a treasure,
A mortal of such perfect mould,
Did these admiring eyes behold!
Never, since it has been my lot
To dwell in this sequestered spot,
A youth by nature so designed
To soothe a love-lorn damsel's mind!
His wondrous looks my bosom thrill
Can Saiáwush be living still?"
The nurse communicated faithfully the message of Maníjeh, and Byzun's
countenance glowed with delight when he heard it. "Tell thy fair
mistress," he said in reply, "that I am not Saiáwush, but the son of
Gíw. I came from Irán, with the express permission of the king, to
exterminate a terrible and destructive herd of wild boars in this
neighborhood; and I have cut off their heads, and torn out their tusks
to be sent to Kai-khosráu, that the king and his warriors may fully
appreciate the exploit I have performed. But having heard afterwards of
thy mistress's beauty and attractions, home and my father were
forgotten, and I have preferred following my own desires by coming
hither. If thou wilt therefore forward my views; if thou wilt become my
friend by introducing me to thy mistress, who is possessed of such
matchless charms, these precious gems are thine and this coronet of
gold. Perhaps the daughter of Afrásiyáb may be induced to listen to my
suit." The nurse was not long in making known the sentiments of the
stranger, and Maníjeh was equally prompt in expressing her consent. The
message was full of ardor and affection.
"O gallant youth, no farther roam,
This summer-tent shall be thy home;
Then will the clouds of grief depart
From this enamoured, anxious heart.
For thee I live--thou art the light
Which makes my future fortune bright.
Should arrows pour like showers of rain
Upon my head--'twould be in vain;
Nothing can ever injure me,
Blessed with thy love--possessed of thee!"
Byzun therefore proceeded unobserved to the tent of the princess, who on
meeting and receiving him, pressed him to her bosom; and taking off his
Kaiáni girdle, that he might be more at his ease, asked him to sit down
and relate the particulars of his enterprise among the wild boars of the
forest. Having done so, he added that he had left Girgín behind him.
"Enraptured, and impatient to survey
Thy charms, I brook'd no pause upon the way."
He was immediately perfumed with musk and rose-water, and refreshments
of every kind were set before him; musicians played their sweetest airs,
and dark-eyed damsels waited upon him. The walls of the tent were
gorgeously adorned with amber, and gold, and rubies; and the sparkling
old wine was drunk out of crystal goblets. The feast of joy lasted three
nights and three days, Byzun and Maníjeh enjoying the precious moments
with unspeakable rapture. Overcome with wine and the felicity of the
scene, he at length sunk into repose, and on the fourth day came the
time of departure; but the princess, unable to relinquish the society of
her lover, ordered a narcotic draught to be administered to him, and
whilst he continued in a state of slumber and insensibility, he was
conveyed secretly and in disguise into Túrán. He was taken even to the
palace of Afrásiyáb, unknown to all but to the emissaries and domestics
of the princess, and there he awoke from the trance into which he had
been thrown, and found himself clasped in the arms of his idol.
Considering, on coming to his senses, that he had been betrayed by some
witchery, he made an attempt to get out of the seclusion: above all, he
was apprehensive of a fatal termination to the adventure; but Maníjeh's
blandishments induced him to remain, and for some time he was contented
to be immersed in continual enjoyment--such pleasure as arises from the
social banquet and the attractions of a fascinating woman.
"Grieve not my love--be not so sad,
'Tis now the season to be glad;
There is a time for war and strife,
A time to soothe the ills of life.
Drink of the cup which yields delight,
The ruby glitters in thy sight;
Steep not thy heart in fruitless care,
But in the wine-flask sparkling there."
At length, however, the love of the princess for a Persian youth was
discovered, and the keepers and guards of the palace were in the
greatest terror, expecting the most signal punishment for their neglect
or treachery. Dreadful indeed was the rage of the king when he was first
told the tidings; he trembled like a reed in the wind, and the color
fled from his cheeks. Groaning, he exclaimed:--
"A daughter, even from a royal stock,
Is ever a misfortune--hast thou one?
The grave will be thy fittest son-in-law!
Rejoice not in the wisdom of a daughter;
Who ever finds a daughter good and virtuous?
Who ever looks on woman-kind for aught
Save wickedness and folly? Hence how few
Ever enjoy the bliss of Paradise:
Such the sad destiny of erring woman!"
Afrásiyáb consulted the nobles of his household upon the measures to be
pursued on this occasion, and Gersíwaz was in consequence deputed to
secure Byzun, and put him to death. The guilty retreat was first
surrounded by troops, and then Gersíwaz entered the private apartments,
and with surprise and indignation saw Byzun in all his glory, Maníjeh at
his side, his lips stained with wine, his face full of mirth and
gladness, and encircled by the damsels of the shubistán. He accosted him
in severe terms, and was promptly answered by Byzun, who, drawing his
sword, gave his name and family, and declared that if any violence or
insult was offered, he would slay every man that came before him with
hostile intentions. Gersíwaz, on hearing this, thought it prudent to
change his plan, and conduct him to Afrásiyáb, and he was permitted to
do so on the promise of pardon for the alleged offence. When brought
before Afrásiyáb, he was assailed with further opprobrium, and called a
dog and a wicked remorseless demon.
"Thou caitiff wretch, of monstrous birth,
Allied to hell, and not of earth!"