212 Translations from the Tarikh i Firuzshdhi. [No. 3, 
ed and spurred in front of the royal cortege. And the by-standers 
and the guard thought it must surely be a prince in pursuit of 
game who thus dazzled the beholders with his wanton tricks and 
feats of horsemanship. Again that life-confusing heart-ruining 
beauty fled like an arrow from the field and turned again and came 
in front of the imperial canopy ; and the body guards and gold-sticks 
that marched before the king’s staff, bearing firelocks and maces 
in their hands, were so confounded at the beauty of the elf, that they 
were powerless to prevent his approach. In the twinkling of an 
eye, the eye and lamp of beauty reached the royal canopy, leaped 
from the saddle and prostrating himself before the king’s horse 
chanted the following distich in melodious and ravishing tones, 
Will but thy will and trample on my eyes, 
I lay them in the dust upon thy path, 
and said, “ King of the world ! the exordium of this ode is a fit com¬ 
pliment to your Majesty ; but I am afraid and cannot repeat it.” 
The king looking on the youth exclaimed, Wallah , and enchanted 
with his speech reined in his steed and with his own lips said, 
“ Speak and fear not.” That breaker of the scruples of the absti¬ 
nent, cried, 
Silver-bodied cypress! thou art going to the desert. 
Right treacherously thou goest, in going without me. 
Thus quoting, with a thousand blandishments and amorous ges¬ 
tures, he addressed the king, “ So many of us, sweet charmers as we 
are, enamoured of the king’s beauty have come from many far dis¬ 
tant places, and his majesty thrusts us aside and passes on. Are 
we not even meet attendants at the banquet ?” 
The king, already enamoured of his beauty and wit, wavered on 
the verge of distraction. He could hardly refrain from dismount¬ 
ing from his horse, and taking him to his arms. In the tumult 
of his feelings, wound to a higher pitch by the melody of the char¬ 
mer’s voice, he utterly lost his self-control, cast his good resolves to 
the wind, and called for wine on the spot, and taking the royal 
cup in his hands quaffed it in the presence of the lovely boy, re¬ 
citing these lines— 
“ At night I forswear the red wine, my Ganymede’s witchery fearing, 
“ In the morning he dawns on my eyes, and I find my resolves disappearing.” 
