Chapter I: Story of the Two Royal Brothers

I have heard that in one of the states of the West,Two brothers once lived who one father possessed,—Army leading and proud and of elephant size,Good-looking and learned, clever swordsmen likewise.The father found both of them terrible boys;Fond of galloping horses and war's angry noise.Forthwith he divided the kingdom in twain—Gave a half to each son, over which he might reign—Lest one 'gainst the other should rise up to fight,And seize, to do battle, the sabre of spite.The father then summed up his years in his mind;To the Giver of Life his sweet life he resigned.The Fates, then, his tent-ropes of hope cut away,And death bound securely the hands of his sway.Two kings were appointed to rule in that State ;For the treasure and number of soldiers were great.Each, according to what appeared best, in his view,Made arrangements his own special course to pursue.One justice, to win a good name for himself;The other, oppression, to treasure up pelf.One made a good nature the guide of his reign;Gave gold and took care of the indigent swain ;Built hostels, gave bread, and to soldiers was kind,And for beggars, at night, a night refuge designed.To perfect his army his treasure he spent—Like holiday folks who on pleasure are bent.To the sky rose, like thunder, the shouts of applause;Like in Bu-Bakar-Sad's time, the town of Shiraz.A wise prince was he, with a nature serene ;May the branch of his hope ever fruitful be seen !Hear the story about the magnanimous lad :His footsteps were happy, his nature was glad.He promoted the comfort of high and of low;Praised the Maker at dawn and at evening's red glow.All over the country, Karun, fearless, went ;For the monarch was just and the poor were content.Not a harm at a heart, all the time he survived,From a thorn, not to mention a rose-leaf, arrived.By the aid of the Lord, hostile chiefs lost the day,And the leaders submitted themselves to his sway.The other desired to enrich throne and crown,And by raising the taxes ground villagers down.For the riches of merchants he avarice showed ;On the life of the helpless calamity strewed.I mean not to say he wished ill to the poor;But he treated himself like a foe, to be sure.He, hoping for increase, nor gave nor ate food.The sage is aware that his plans were not good ;For before he could gather that gold by foul play,His army, from weakness, had dwindled away.At the ears of the merchants the rumour arrives,That abuse in the land of this worthless one thrives.From that country all buying and selling they turned ;The fields became barren, the husbandmen burned.From his friendship when Fortune averted her face,His foes, of necessity, worked his disgrace.The warring of Heav'n his uprootal soon planned,And the hoof of the enemy's horse ploughed his land.In whom seeks he faith, since the treaty he tore?From whom asks he tax, since the peasant's no more ?What good can that sinful one covet to share,When, after him, curses resound through the air?Since his fortune was bad, from the day he was born,The advice of the worthy he treated with scorn.And what said the good to that "virtuous" man—"The fruit you can eat ! for no wrong-doer can."His thoughts were depraved and his plans came to nought,For in justice dwelt that, which in harshness he sought.