Introduction

1

	

HE who created the firmament, by that mighty power
made beings inspired from on high with souls celestial;
to us men He has given the world, infinite in variety we
possess it; from Him is every monarch in His likeness.

2

	

O ONE God! Thou didst create the face of every form!
Shield me, give me mastery to trample on Satan, give me
the longing of lovers lasting even unto death, lightening
the sins I must bear thither with me.

3

	

OF that lion whom the use of lance, shield and sword
adorns, of the queen, the sun Thamar, the ruby-cheeked,
the jet-haired, of her I know not how I shall dare to sing
the manifold praise; they who look upon her cannot but
taste choice sweets.

4

	

BY shedding tears of blood we praise Queen Thamar,
whose praises I, not ill-chosen, have told forth. For ink
I have used a lake of jet and for pen a pliant crystal.
Whoever hears, a jagged spear will pierce his heart!

5

	

SHE bade me indite sweet verses in her praise, laud her
eyebrows and lashes, her hair, her lips and teeth, cut
crystal and ruby of Badakhshan arrayed in ranks. An anvil
of soft lead breaks even hard stone.

6

	

NOW want I tongue, heart and skill for utterance! Grant
me strength! And if I have aid from thee I shall have
understanding, so may we succour Tariel; tenderly indeed
should we cherish his memory and that of the three star-like
heroes wont to serve one another.

7

	

COME, let us sit and shed a never-drying tear for Tariel's
sake. In truth none like him has ever been. I sat me down,
I, Rusthveli, indited a poem, my heart pierced with a
lance. Hitherto the tale has been told as a tale; now is it a
pearl of measured poesy.

8

	

I, RUSTHVELI, have composed this work by the folly of
my art. For her whom a multitude of hosts obey, I lose my
wits, I die! I am sick of love, and for me there is no cure
from anywhere, unless she give me healing or the earth a
grave.

9

	

THIS Persian tale, now done into Georgian, has hitherto
been like a pearl of great price cast in play from hand to
hand; now I have found it and mounted it in a setting of
verse; I have done a praiseworthy deed. The ravisher of my
reason, proud and beautiful, willed me to do it.

10

	

EYES that have lost their light through her long to look
on her anew; lo! my heart is mad with love, and it is my lot
to run about the fields. Who will pray for me ? The burning
of the body sufficeth, let the soul have comfort! The verse
in praise of the three like heroes cannot but affect the hearer.

11

	

WITH what Fate gives to a man, therewithal should he be
content, and so speak of it. The labourer should ever work,
the warrior be brave. So, also, should the lover love Love,
and recognise it. Neither must he disdain the love of
another, or that other disdain his.

12

	

MINSTRELSY is, first of all, a branch of wisdom; the
divine must be hearkened to divinely, and wholesome is
to them that hearken; it is pleasant, too, if the listener be
a worthy man; in few words he utters a long discourse:
herein lies the excellence of poetry.

13

	

LIKE a horse is tested in a great race on a long course,
like a ball-player in the lists striking the ball fairly and
aiming adroitly at the mark, even so is it with the poet
who composes and indites long poems, and reins in his horse
when utterance is hard for him and verse begins to fail.

14

	

THEN, indeed, behold the poet, and his poesy will be
manifest. When he is at a loss for words, and verse begins
to fail, he will not weaken the verse, nor will he let the verse
grow poor. Let him strike cunningly with the polo-mallet;
he will show great virtue.

15

	

HE who utters, somewhere, one or two verses cannot be
called a poet; let him not think himself equal to great
singers. Even if they compose a few discrepant verse from
time to time, yet if they say, "Mine are of the best!" they
are stiff-necked mules.

16

	

SECONDLY, lyrics which are but a small part of poetry
and cannot command heart-piercing word I may liken
them to the bad bows of young hunters who cannot kill
big game; they are able only to slay the small.

17

	

THIRDLY, lyrics are fit for the festive, the joyous, the
amorous, the merry, for pleasantries of comrades; they
please us when they are clearly sung. Those are not called
poets who cannot compose a lengthy work.

18

	

THE poet must not spend his toil in vain. One should
seem to him worthy of love; he must be devoted to one,
he must employ all his art for her, he must praise her, he must set forth the glory of his beloved; he must wish for nought else, for her alone must his tongue be tuneful.

19

	

NOW let all know that I praise her whom I erstwhile
praised; in this I have great glory, I feel no shame. She is
my life; merciless as a leopard is she. Her name I pronounce
hereafter praising her allegorically.

20

	

I SPEAK of the highest love-divine in its kind. It is
difficult to discourse thereon, ill to tell forth with tongues.
It is heavenly, upraising the soul on pinions. Whoever
strives thereafter must indeed have endurance of many
griefs.

21

	

SAGES cannot comprehend that one Love; the tongue will
tire, the ears of the listeners will become wearied; I must
tell of lower frenzies, which befall human beings; they
imitate it when they wanton not, but faint from afar.

22

	

IN the Arabic tongue they call the lover "madman",
because by non-fruition he loses his wits. Some have
nearness to God, but they weary in the flight; then again,
to others it is natural to pursue lovely women.

23

	

TO a lover, beauty, like unto the sun, wisdom, wealth,
generosity, youth and leisure are fitting; he must be
eloquent, intelligent, patient, a conqueror of mighty
adversaries; who is not all these lacks the qualities of a
lover.

24

	

LOVE is tender, a thing hard to be known. True love is
something apart from lust, and cannot be likened thereto;
it is one thing; lust is quite another thing, and between
them lies a broad boundary; in no way do thou mingle
them -- hear my saying!

25

	

THE lover must be constant, not lewd, impure and
faithless; when he is far from his beloved he must heave
sigh upon sigh; his heart must be fixed on one from whom
he endures wrath or sorrow if need be. I hate heartless
love-embracing, kissing, loud smacking of the lips.

26

	

LOVERS, call not this thing love: when any longs for one
to-day and another to-morrow, bearing parting's pain. Such
base sport is like mere boyish trifling; the good lover is he
who suffers a world's woe.

27

	

THERE is a noblest love; it does not show, but hides its
woes; the lover thinks of it when he is alone, and always
seeks solitude; his fainting, dying, burning, flaming, all
are from afar; he must face the wrath of his beloved, and
he must be fearful of her.

28

	

HE must betray his secret to none, he must not basely
groan and put beloved to shame; in nought should he
manifest his love, nowhere must he reveal it; for her sake
he looks upon sorrow as joy, for her sake he would willingly
be burned.

29

	

HOW can the sane trust him who noises his love abroad,
and what shall it profit to do this ? He makes her suffer, and
he himself suffers. How should he glorify her if he shame
her with words? What need is there for man to cause pain
to the heart of his beloved!

30

	

I WONDER why men show that they love the beloved.
Why shame they her whom they love, her who slays herself
for them, who is covered with wounds ? If they love her not,
why do they not manifest to her feelings of hatred ? Why
do they disgrace what they hate? But an evil man loves
an evil word more than his soul or heart.

31

	

IF the lover weep for his beloved, tears are his due.
Wandering and solitude befit him, and must be esteemed
as roaming. He will have time for nothing but to think of
her. If he be among men, it is better that he manifest not
his love.
	

Story of Rostevan, King of the Arabians

32

	

THERE was in Arabia Rostevan, a king by the grace of
God, happy, exalted, generous, modest, lord of many hosts
and knights, just and gracious, powerful, far-seeing, himself
a peerless warrior, moreover, fluent in speech.

33

	

NO other child had the king save one only daughter, the
shining light of the world, to be ranked with nought but the
sunny group; whoever looked on her, she bereft him of
heart, mind and soul. It needs a wise man to praise her, and
ten thousand times a thousand tongues.

34

	

HER name is Thinathin; let it be famous! When she had
grown up to full womanhood, she contemned even the sun.
The king called his viziers, seated himself, proud yet gentle,
and, placing them by his side, began to talk graciously
to them.

35

	

HE said: "I will declare to you the matter on which we
are to take counsel together. When the flower of the rose is
dried and withered it falls, and another blooms in the lovely
garden. The sun is set for us; we are gazing on a dark, moonless night

36

	

"
MY day is done; old age, most grievous of all ills. Weighs
on me; if not to-day, then to-morrow I die -- this is the way
of the world. What light is that on which darkness attends?
Let us instate as sovereign my daughter, of whom the sun is
not worthy."

37

	

THE viziers said: "O king, why do you speak of your age?
Even when the rose fades we must needs give it its due; it
still excels all in scent and fair colour. How can a star
declare enmity even to the waning moon!

38

	

"SPEAK not then thus, O king. Your rose is not yet
faded. Even bad counsel from you is better than good
counsel from another. It was certainly fitting to speak
about what your heart desires. It is better. Give the
kingdom to her who prevails against the sun.
 

39

	

"THOUGH indeed she be a woman, still as sovereign she
is begotten of God. She knows how to rule. We say not this
to flatter you; we ourselves, in your absence, often say so.
Her deeds, like her radiance, are revealed bright as
sunshine. The lion's whelps are equal, be they male or female."
 

40

	

AVTHANDIL was Spaspeti, son of the Amirspasalari.
He was more graceful than the cypress; his presence was like sun and moon. Still beardless, he was to be likened to
famous crystal and enamel. The beauty of the host of
Thinathin's eyelashes was slaying him.

41

	

HE kept his love hidden in his heart. When he was absent
and saw her not, his rose faded; when he saw her, the fires
were renewed, his wound smarted more. Love is pitiable; it
makes man heart-slain.

42

	

WHEN the king commanded that his daughter should be
enthroned as king, gladness came upon Avthandil; the
fire that was burning Avthandil was extinguished. He said
to himself: "Often will it now fall to my lot to gaze upon
her crystal face; perchance I may thus find a cure for my
pallor."

43

	

THE great sovereign of the Arabs published throughout
Arabia an edict: "I, her father, appoint my Thinathin
queen; she shall illumine all, even as the shining sun.
Come and see, all ye who praise and extol!"

44

	

ALL the Arabians came; the crowd of courtiers increased.
The sun-faced Avthandil, chief of ten thousand times a
thousand soldiers, the vizier Sograt, the nearest to the
king of all his attendants. When they placed the throne the
people said: "Its worth is beyond words!"

45

	

THINATHIN, radiant in countenance, was led in by her
sire. He seated her, and with his own hands set the crown on
her head; he gave her the sceptre, and clad her in the royal
robes. The maiden looks on with understanding, all-seeing,
like the sun.

46

	

THE king and his armies retired and did homage. They
blessed her and established her as queen, many from many
places told forth her praises; the trumpets were blown and
the cymbals sounded sweetly. The maiden wept, she shed
many tears; she drooped her eyelashes, the tail feathers of
the raven.

47

	

SHE deemed herself unworthy to sit on her father's
throne; therefore she weeps, filling the rose-garden with
tears. The king admonishes her: "Every father hath a peer
in his child," quoth he. "Until now the raging fire in my
bosom has not been extinguished."

48

	

HE said: "Weep not, daughter, but hearken to my counsel :
To-day thou art queen of Arabia, appointed sovereign
by me; henceforth this kingdom is entrusted to thee; mayest
thou be discreet in thy doings, be modest and discerning.

49

	

"SINCE the sun shines alike on roses and middens, be not
thou weary of mercy to great and small. The generous binds
the free, and he who is already bound will willingly obey.
Scatter liberally, as the seas pour forth again the floods
they have received.

50

	

"MUNIFICENCE in kings is like the aloe planted in Eden.
All, even the traitor, are obedient to the generous. It is
very wholesome to eat and drink, but what profits it to
board ? What thou givest away is thine; what thou keepest
is lost."

51

	

THE maiden hearkened discreetly to this her father's
advice, she lent ear, she heard, she wearied not of
instruction. The king drank and sported; he was exceeding joyful. Thinathin contemned the sun, but the sun was like to Thinathin.

52

	

SHE sent for her faithful, trusty tutor, and said: "Bring
hither all my treasure sealed by thee, all the wealth
belonging to me as king's daughter. " He brought it; she
gave without measure, without count, inexhaustibly.

53

	

THAT day she gave away all she had gathered since her
childhood; she enriched both small folk and great. Then
she said: "I do the deed my father taught me; let none keep
back any of my hoarded treasure."

54

	

SHE said: "Go, open whatever treasure there is! Master
of the Horse, lead in the droves of asses, mules, and horses.
He brought them. She gave them away without measure;
she wearied not of generosity. The soldiers gathered together
stuff like pirates.

55

	

THEY pillaged her treasury as 'twere booty from Turks;
they carried off her fine, sleek Arab steeds. Her munificence
was like a snowstorm whirling down from the sky; none
remained empty, neither youth nor maiden.

56

	

ONE day passed; there was a banquet, food and drink -- a
feast of fruit. A great gathering of warriors sat there to
make merry. The king hung his head, and his brow was
furrowed with sadness. They began to discuss this one with
another: "What weighs upon him, and why grieves he ?"

57

	

AT the head sat the sun-faced Avthandil, desirable to
them that look upon him, the agile leader of the hosts;
like a tiger and a lion is he. The old vizier Sograt sat by his
side. They said one to the other: "What ails the king, and
why has he grown pale ?"

58

	

THEY said: "Some unpleasant thought has come into the
king's mind, for nothing has happened here to make him
sad." Quoth Avthandil: "Let us inquire, 0 Sograt, let
him tell us why he is displeased with us; let us venture on
some pleasantry; why hath he shamed us?"

59

	

SOGRAT and the graceful Avthandil arose; each filled his
winecup, and with meek mien drew nigh. Then with
smiling faces they cast themselves on their knees before the
king. The vizier sportively spoke thus, with eloquent
words :

60

	

"YOU look sad, 0 king; there is no longer a smile on your
face. Thou art right, for, lo! your daughter with lavish hand
has given away all your rich and costly treasure. Make her
not queen at all; why bring grief on thyself?"

61

	

WHEN the king heard him he looked up with a smile. He
marvelled how he had ventured thus, how he dared to speak
such words! "Well hast thou done!" He thanked his vizier.
He confirmed this what he said: "He who lays avarice to
my charge is a lying chatterer.

62

	

"THAT afflicts me not, 0 vizier. This it is that troubles
me: Old age draws nigh; I have spent the days of youth,
and nowhere in our dominions is there a man who hath
learned from me the knightly arts.

63

	

"IT is true I have a daughter tenderly nurtured, but God
has given me no son; I suffer in this fleeting life. There
is none to be compared with me in archery or at the game
of ball. It is true that Avthandil resembles me somewhat,
thanks to my teaching."

64

	

THE proud youth hearkened modestly to these words of
the king; with bent head he smiled. Well did a smile befit
him; his shining white teeth gleamed like sunshine on a
mead. The king asked: "Why smilest thou? Or why wert
thou shy of me ?"

65

	

YET again he said: "Why dost thou laugh at me? What is
laughable in me ?" The youth replied: "I shall tell you if
you grant me leave to speak. With what I say be not
offended, be not wroth, blame me not, call me not bold,
ruin me not for this!"

66

	

HE anwered: "How can I take aught thou sayst as
displeasing ?" He took an oath by the sun of Thinathin,
that contemner of the sun. Avthandil said: "Then will
I speak boldly; vaunt not yourself of your archery, it is
better to speak modestly.

67

	

"I, AVTHANDIL, earth under feet, am an archer before
you; let us lay a wager; let your armies attend as
witnesses. 'Who is like me in the lists ?' said you -- vain
indeed is denial !-that is decided by the ball and the field."

68

	

"I WILL not let thee thus dispute with me! Say the word,
let us draw the bow; do not shirk. Let us make good men
witnesses of our rivalry; then in the field it will be manifest
whose praises should be sung."

69

	

AVTHANDIL obeyed; they ceased their discourse. They
laughed, they sported like children, lovingly and becomingly
they behaved. They fixed the wager, and laid down this
condition: Whoever shall be beaten, let him go bareheaded
for three days.

70

	

THE king commanded, moreover: "Let twelve slaves be
chosen to attend us, twelve to give me arrows and wait
upon me; Shermadin alone is for thee; he is equal to
them. Let them count the shots and the hits, and give
a faithful, unerring report."

71

	

TO the huntsmen he said: "Travel over the plain, beat in
many droves, go yourselves to do this, invite the soldiers
to look on, assemble and close round!" The festivity and
banquet broke up; there were we pleasantly merry.


	

King Rostevan and Avthandil Go Hunting

72

	

EARLY in the morning Avthandil came forth like a
well-grown lily; he was clad in crimson, his face was of
crystal and ruby, over his face was a golden veil, he was
fair in huntsman's apparel. He rode upon a white steed; he
invited the king to come forth.

73

	

THE king was arrayed, he mounted, they set out for the
chase. The people surrounded the field, they made a ring
round about it; there was much mirth and excitement; the
armies kept the ground. For their wager were they hooting
and striving together.

74

	

THE king commanded the twelve slaves: "Come,
accompany us, bring us the swift bows, prepare the arrows,
compare what is struck and keep count of the shots.
" Game began to come in from every corner of the plain.

75

	

HERDS of game, innumerable, flocked in: stags, goats,
wild-asses, high-leaping chamois. Lord and vassal pursued
them; what sight could be fairer! Behold the bow, the
arrow, and the untiring arm!

76

	

THE dust from their horses' tracks cut off the sun's rays.
They slew, their arrows sped, blood flowed through the
field; as the shafts were shot away the slaves brought
more of them. The beasts wounded by them could not take
another step.

77

	

THEY ran through that field; they drove the herd before
them. They slew and exterminated, they made wroth the
God of the heavens, the fields were dyed crimson with
the blood they shed from the beasts. Those who watched
Avthandil said: "He is like an aloe-tree planted in Eden."

78

	

THEY coursed over the whole of that plain only they had
travelled over. There on the farther edge of the plain
flows a stream; on the bank of the stream are rocks. The
game fled into the wood, where horse could not follow.
They were tired in spite of their strength.

79

	

EACH laughingly said to the other: "'Tis I that have won!"
Merry were they; they sported, hither and thither they
frolicked. Then came the slaves who had tarried, and
the king said; "Tell the truth; we seek not flattery from
you."

80

	

THE slaves said: "We shall speak the truth; think not we
shall deceive you, 0 king; we may by no means liken you
to him. Slay us at once if you will, it matters not; we
cannot help you in any way. We observed the beasts
stricken by him; they could not move forward a step.

81

	

"TOGETHER ye have slain in all a hundred score, but
Avthandil killed more by a score; he missed not even one
at which he aimed his bow, but we cleaned up many of
your arrows which left blots on the earth."

82

	

THE king heard this with as little concern as the result
of a game of backgammon, he rejoiced so at the victory
of his foster-son; he loved him as the rose loves the
nightingale; smiling he made merry, all grief was gone
from his heart.

83

	

THERE they both sat to cool themselves at the foot of
the trees; the soldiers assembled and stood round them,
countless as chaff; near them were the twelve slaves, bravest
of the brave. As they sported they gazed at the stream
and the edge of the glens.



	

How the King of the Arabians Saw 
the Knight Clad in the Tiger's Skin

84

	

THEY saw a certain stranger knight; he sat weeping on
the bank of the stream, he held his black horse by the rein,
he looked like a lion and a hero; his bridle, armour and
saddle were thickly bedight with pearls; the rose of his
cheek was frozen in tears that welled up from his
woe-stricken heart.

85

	

HIS form was clad in a coat of tiger's skin with the
fur outside; his head, too, was covered with a cap of
tiger's skin; in his hand he held a whip thicker than a man's
arm. They looked and liked to look at that wondrous sight.

86

	

A SLAVE went forth to speak to the knight of the
woe-stricken heart, who, weeping with downcast head,
seems not a spectacle for jesting; from the jet channel of
his eyelashes rains a crystal shower. When the slave
approached, he could by no means bring himself to speak
a word;

87

	

THE slave was much perturbed; he dared not address him.
A long time he gazed in wonder till his heart was
strengthened; then he said: "The king commands thee to
attend him." The slave came near, and greeted him gently;
the knight wept on and heard not, he knew not that the
slave was there.

88

	

HE heard not a word of the slave, nor what he said; he
was wholly unconscious of the shouting of the soldiers, he
was sobbing strangely, his heart burnt up with fires; tears
were mingled with blood, and flowed forth as from
floodgates.

89

	

BY his head! His mind was wafted elsewhither. Once
again the slave uttered the king's message, but the knight
ceased not from weeping and heard him not, nor was the
rose-bouquet of speech plucked from his lips.

90

	

SINCE he answered not, the slave went back and said to
Rostevan: "I have told him what you said, but he will not
listen. Mine eyes were dazzled as by the sun; my heart was
sorely troubled. I could not make him hear a word though
I have tarried there so long."

91

	

THE king wondered, he was wroth, he was vexed in heart
against him. He sent the twelve slaves standing before him;
he commanded: "Take weapons of war in your hands; go
and bring hither him who sits yonder."

92

	

THE slaves went forth, they drew nigh to him, their
armour clanked. Then indeed the knight started up, he wept
still more woefully; he raised his eyes and looked round,
he saw the band of warriors. But once he said, "Woe is me!"
and spoke no word more.

93

	

HE passed his hands over his eyes, he wiped away the
hot tears, he made fast his sabre and quiver, and braced his
strong arms. He mounted his horse -- why should he heed the
words of slaves ? He wended his way elsewhither, and healed
not their troubles.

94

	

THE slaves stretched forth their hands to seize that
knight; he fell upon them -- alas! even their enemies would
have pitied them; he beat one against another, he slew
them without raising his hand, some with his whip he
smote, cleaving them down to the breast.

95

	

WRATHFUL was the king, and annoyed; he shouted to the
slaves. The youth looked not back nor heeded his pursuers
till they were upon him; as many as overtook him he made
to look like dead men, he threw down man on man;
Rostevan lamented thereat.

96

	

THE king and Avthandil mounted to follow the youth.
Proud and haughty, his form swayed to and fro, his steed
was like Merani,1 the sun shone brightly on the field; he
perceived that the king pursued him.

	

Thinathin Sends Avthandil to Find the Knight

121

	

AVTHANDIL sat alone in his chamber, clad only in
an undergarment; he was singing and making merry,
before him stood a harp. To him came Thinathin's black
slave, and said: "She of the aloe form, the moon-faced one,
sends for thee."

122

	

AVTHANDIL was glad to hear this joyful news. He rose
and donned his best and brightest coat. He rejoiced to meet
the rose; they had never yet met alone. Pleasant is it to gaze
on beauty, and be near one beloved.

123

	

PROUDLY and boldly Avthandil came to her, he was
ashamed of none. He will see her for whom the tear of woe
full oft had flowed. The peerless one sat mournful, she shone
like lightning, her rays eclipsed the moon.

124

	

HER fair form was clad in unlined ermine, she wore
negligently veils whose price it were hard to tell; but her
black, heart-piercing eyelashes and the thick, long tresses
which embraced her white throat were her real adornments

125

	

PENSIVE she sat in her red veil; she quietly greeted
Avthandil, and gently bade him be seated. The slave placed
a seat; he sat down modestly and respectfully. Face to face
he gazed on her, full of great joy.

126

	

AND the maiden answered: "I am frightened, I fear this
misery, I should like to be silent, but have no strength and
no patience, yet I know the cause that makes thee call me
here, my face remains sad and my reason seems lost."

127

	

THE knight said: "How indeed can I speak to one so
dread! If the moon meet the sun it is consumed, it fades
away. I am no longer at leisure to think; I fear for myself.
Tell me, then, why you are sad and what will relieve you."

128

	

THE maiden replied with elegant words, not ill-chosen,
saying: "Since thou hast hitherto remained far from me,
amazed at what has seemed impossible to thee, I must first
tell thee of the malady which afflicts me, as a plague.

129

	

"DOST thou remember, when thou and Rostevan killed
game in the plain, how ye saw a certain stranger youth who
wiped his tears away ? Since then I have been a prey to
thoughts of him. I beg thee to search for him, to seek him
within the bounds of the sky.

130

	

"ALTHOUGH I have been unable to hold converse with
thee hitherto, yet from afar have I perceived thy love for
me; I know that without pause the hail has fallen from
thine eyes upon thy cheek. Thou art made prisoner by love;
thy heart is taken captive.

131

	

"THIS service of mine which I bid thee do befits thee for
these two reasons: First, thou art a knight, among all
flesh there is none like unto thee; secondly, thou art in love
with me, this is true and no slander. Go, seek that
brother-in-arms, be he near or far.

132

	

"THEREBY shalt thou strengthen my love for thee; by
delivering me from my sadness, thou shalt cripple the
foul demon; plant the violet of hope in my heart, strew
roses; then come, 0 lion, I shall meet thee like a sun; meet
thou me.

133

	

"SEEK three years him whom thou hast to seek; if thou
find him, come gaily telling thy victory. If thou find
him not, I shall believe he was a vision. Thou shalt meet
the rosebud unwithered, unfaded.

134

	

"I SWEAR if I wed any husband but thee, even should
the sun become man, incarnate for my sake, may I be cut
off for ever from Paradise, may I be swallowed up in Hell,
love for thee would slay me, piercing my heart with a
knife!"

135

	

THE knight replied: "0 sun, who causest the jet to
blink, what else can I answer, or what can I come to know ?
I awaited death; thou hast renewed my will to live. I shall
certainly obey thee like a slave in service."

136

	

AGAIN he spoke: "0 sun, since God has created thee a
sun, so that the heavenly planets obey thee wherever they
may be, I have heard from you that which has overwhelmed
me with grace; my rose shall not wither, thy ray shines
generously upon it."

137

	

ONCE more they made an oath together, they promised
each other, they confirmed it and discoursed much, with
many a word; what grief they had borne until now became
easy. Their white teeth flashed white lightning as if
transparent.

138
1

	

THEY sat together, they made merry, they talked simply
of a hundred things, they spoke with their crystal and ruby
faces and jet eyes. The knight said: "Those who gaze upon
thee become mad; my heart is burned to ashes by the fire
that conies from thee."

139

	

THE youth went away, but he could not bear parting
from her, he looked back, his eyes were dazed, crystal hails
down and freezes the rose, his graceful form was trembling;
he had heart for heart, he had lent his to love.

140

	

HE said to himself: "0 sun, separation from thee is
thus early manifested on the rose: my crystal and ruby have
faded, I am become yellower than amber. What shall I do,
then, when I cannot see thee for a long time ? This shall be
my law: death for the beloved is fitting."

141

	

HE lay down on his bed, he weeps, it is difficult for
him to wipe away the tears, he shivered and swayed, like
an aspen in the wind; when he fell into a slumber he
dreamed his beloved was near; he starts, he cries out loud,
his suffering increases twentyfold.

142

	

SEPARATION from his beloved made him jealous. Tears
like pearls were shed upon the rose, making it tender. When
day dawned he apparelled himself, fair to look upon; he
mounted his horse, set out and came to court for an
audience.

143

	

HE sent a chamberlain into the hall of audience with
a message from him to the king, saying: "0 king, I venture
to tell you what I have thought: all the face of the earth
is subjected to you by your sword; now, if it be better,
I shall make known these tidings to all the vicinage.

144

	

"I WILL go, I shall travel, I shall wage war, I shall go
to the rounds of the marches, I shall, by piercing the
heart of your enemies, announce Thinatbin's accession;
I shall cause the obedient to rejoice, the disobedient will
I make to weep, I shall send you gifts incessantly, I shall
not be sparing of greeting."

145

	

THE king expressed his great gratitude; he said: "0 lion,
stretching thine arm in battle irks thee not. Behold, this
thy counsel is matched by thy valour. Thou mayst go,
but what shall I do if it happen that thou tarry long ?"

146

	

THE knight came in; he did homage, and spoke some
words of thanks: "0 monarch, I wonder that you should
deign to praise me. Now God will perchance lighten for
me the darkness of separation, and let me see again in joy
your joyful face."

147

	

THE king hung upon his neck and kissed him like a son;
like unto them have none been, neither upbringer nor
upbrought. The knight rose and went away, to him their
day seemed separated; Rostevan, wise and soft-hearted,
wept for him.

148

	

AVTHANDIL set out, a brave knight marching boldly;
twenty days he journeyed, many a day he made one with
the night. She is the joy of the world, she is treasure and
due; he puts not away the thought of Thinathin, of her for
whom the flame burns.

149

	

WHENEVER he came there was rejoicing in the kingdom,
nobles met him, they gave generous gifts; the sun-faced had
not wasted time in his rapid journey. The drums of joy met
them that came into his presence.

150

	

HE had a strong city to strike terror in the marches;
outside was a rock, I tell thee, with an unmortared wall.
The knight spent there three days in the pleasant chase; he
invited his pupil, Shermadin, to sit in council with him.

151

	

THIS is the slave Shermadin, mentioned above, brought
up with Avthandil, faithful and self-sacrificing to him.
He knew not hitherto of the fire which burned the knight;
now Avthandil revealed the hopeful words of the sun.

152

	

HE said: "Lo, Shermadin, for this I am ashamed before
thee; thou knowest all my affairs and hast given heed to
them; but hitherto thou hast not known what tears I have
shed; in her from whom I had suffering I now find joy.

153

	

"I AM slain by love and longing for Thinathin; from
the narcissi hot tears moistened the frosted rose; I could
not till now show my hidden woe, now has she bidden me
hope, therefore thou seest me joyful.

154

	

"SHE said to me: 'Learn news of that lost knight, then
come, I shall fulfil thy heart's desire; I want no husband
save thee, even if a planted tree falls to my lot.' She gave
me the balm of my heart until that moment burned.

155

	

"FIRST, I am a knight; I wish to go forth to serve my
lady. Faithfulness to kings is fitting, vassal must act as
vassal; then, she has extinguished the fire, my heart is
no longer consumed to soot; a man must not bend before
misfortune, but meet it like a man.

156

	

"OF all lords and vassals thou and I are most friendly;
therefore I entreat thee to hear this from mine own mouth;
in my stead I appoint thee lord and chief over mine armies,
I could not entrust this matter to others.

157

	

"LEAD forth the soldiers to battle, rule the nobles,
send messengers to court telling the state of affairs, write
letters in my stead, present priceless gifts; why should it
be known that I am not here ?

158

	

"REPRESENT me in military duties and in the
hunting-field, wait here for me three years, keep my secret;
perchance indeed I shall return, my aloe-tree shall not
fade; but if I come not back, mourn me, weep for me, utter
sighs.

159

	

"TELL the king forthwith-it is not a desirable
deed-announce my death to him, be as if thou art drunk;
say to him: 'For him is come to pass the thing which
none escape.' Give to the poor my treasure -- gold, silver
and copper.

160

	

"THUS shalt thou help me after the best fashion, by this
thou shalt aid me most; do not forget me soon, think
me often, take good thought of provision for me, pray for
my soul. Remember my childhood; let thy heart be
motherly towards me."

161

	

WHEN the slave heard this he wondered, he was alarmed,
from his eyes the hot tears poured like pearls. He said:
"How can the heart deprived of thee rejoice? I know thou
wilt not stay; so I cannot hinder thee in this matter.

162

	

"WHY didst thou say thou wouldst appoint me in thy
stead ? How can I undertake the lordship, how can I imitate
thee or resemble thee ? It were better that the earth cradled
me too than that I should have to think that thou art
alone; rather let us both steal forth, I will accompany thee,
take me with thee."

163

	

THE knight replied: "Hearken unto me, I tell thee truth
without any falsehood; when a lover would roam the fields
alone he must wander; a pearl falls to the lot of none
without buying and bargaining. An evil and treacherous
man should be pierced with a lance.

164

	

"TO whom could I tell my secret? Save thee, none is
worthy. To whom can I entrust the lordship save thee,
who else can do it well ? Fortify the marches that the enemy
may not encamp near. Perchance I shall return, if God
make me not to be wholly lost.

165

	

"HAZARD kills equally be it one or a hundred. Loneliness
can matter nought if the group of the heavenly powers
protect me. If I come not hither in three years, then will
it beseem thee to mourn and wear funeral garb. I will give
thee a letter, whoever is my courtier must obey thee."