1871 .] 
The reign of Mvhizz-uddin. 
211 
in Persian and singing, pranked in gold and trinkets and embroi¬ 
dered dresses and brocade, soul-alluring puppets schooled in all the 
civilities and courtesies and fashions of the court, peerless smooth¬ 
faced boys with their ear-drops of pearl, and damsels robed like 
brides in their wedding glories ;—and the masters of minstrelsy 
and the subtle conjurors who had in secret prepared lays in Per¬ 
sian and Hindi, and had embodied the praises of the Sultan in 
epigram and ballad and madrigal and comic song, and mimics and 
buffoons who, with a single jest would betray the saddest into a 
burst of merriment, and make the jovial hold their sides for excess 
of laughter,—all these came from far countries to feed on the 
bounty of the Sultan. And the tavern-keepers of Koel and Mi- 
at’h brought wines in vessels from their stills redolent of musk 
and guiltless of headaches, and presented them to the king. 
Mu’izz uddin had travelled four or five stages on his homeward 
route to Hihli. Every day a bevy of fair girls with shapes like 
the cypress and cheeks like the rose, who would make idolaters of 
the most continent, and for whose sake the holiest would renounce 
their faith, were stationed by the road-side, and when the Sultan’s 
suite approached, came forward and sang. The king, though his 
heart drew him towards their moonlike forms, and his soul went 
forth in response to their allurements, from shame on account of 
his father’s warnings which had reached the ears of all his army, 
put restraint on himself and endured patiently.* He only glanced 
stealthily at them from the corners of his eyes, and now and again 
a desire to address them passed through his mind. 
But one day he met on the way a cavalier urchin of lovely ap¬ 
pearance and saucy mien, a very snare of calamity, wearing an 
embroidered vest, with a quiver encrusted with gold slung at his 
side, and arrows in the quiver, and a cap of imperial cut perked 
over his ear. He was mounted on a grey jennet that bore its white 
tail high in the air, and arrayed in gilded trappings and a hauberk 
set with studs in hunter’s fashion, and black tassels swung on 
his charger’s breast. Like the chosen champion of the field of 
beauty, he burst through the body guard, and galloped and wheel- 
* Read bar-i-shikebha, the fruit of endurances. I don’t know what else to 
make of it. 
