finished, with the object of amassing sufficient capital to construct a dike for his native town of Tūs, which suffered greatly from defective irrigation, a project which had been the chief dream of his childhood. Owing to this resolution, and to the jealousy of Hasan Maimandi, who often refused to advance him sufficient for the necessaries of life, Firdousī passed the later portion of his life in great privation, though enjoying the royal favour and widely extended fame. Amongst other princes whose liberal presents enabled him to combat his pecuniary difficulties, was one Rustam, son of Fakhr Addaula, the Dailamite, who sent him a thousand gold pieces in acknowledgment of a copy of the episode of Rustam and Isfendiar which Firdousī had sent him, and promised him a gracious reception if he should ever come to his court. As this prince belonged, like Firdousī, to the Shiah sect, while Mahmud and Maimandi were Sunnites, and as he was also politically opposed to the sultan, Hasan Maimandi did not fail to make the most of this incident, and accused the poet of disloyalty to his sovereign and patron, as well as of heresy. Other enemies and rivals also joined in the attack, and for some time Firdousī’s position was very precarious, though his pre-eminent talents and obvious fitness for the work prevented him from losing his post. To add to his troubles he had the misfortune to lose his only son at the age of 37.
At length, after thirty-five years’ work, the book was completed (1011), and Firdousī entrusted it to Ayāz, the sultan’s favourite, for presentation to him. Mahmud ordered Hasan Maimandi to take the poet as much gold as an elephant could carry, but the jealous treasurer persuaded the monarch that it was too generous a reward, and that an elephant’s load of silver would be sufficient. 60,000 silver dirhems were accordingly placed in sacks, and taken to Firdousī by Ayāz at the sultan’s command, instead of the 60,000 gold pieces, one for each verse, which had been promised. The poet was at that moment in the bath, and seeing the sacks, and believing that they contained the expected gold, received them with great satisfaction, but finding only silver he complained to Ayāz that he had not executed the sultan’s order. Ayāz related what had taken place between Mahmud and Hasan Maimandi, and Firdousī in a rage gave 20 thousand pieces to Ayāz himself, the same amount to the bath-keeper, and paid the rest to a beer seller for a glass of beer (fouka), sending word back to the sultan that it was not to gain money that he had taken so much trouble. On hearing this message, Mahmud at first reproached Hasan with having caused him to break his word, but the wily treasurer succeeded in turning his master’s anger upon Firdousī to such an extent that he threatened that on the morrow he would “cast that Carmathian (heretic) under the feet of his elephants.” Being apprised by one of the nobles of the court of what had taken place, Firdousī passed the night in great anxiety; but passing in the morning by the gate that led from his own apartments into the palace, he met the sultan in his private garden, and succeeded by humble apologies in appeasing his wrath. He was, however, far from being appeased himself, and determined at once upon quitting Ghazni. Returning home he tore up the draughts of some thousands of verses which he had composed and threw them in the fire, and repairing to the grand mosque of Ghazni he wrote upon the walls, at the place where the sultan was in the habit of praying, the following lines:—
“The auspicious court of Mahmud, king of Zabulistan, is like a sea. What a sea! One cannot see its shore. If I have dived therein without finding any pearls it is the fault of my star and not of the sea.”
He then gave a sealed paper to Ayāz, begging him to hand it to the sultan in a leisure moment after 20 days had elapsed, and set off on his travels with no better equipment than his staff and a dervish’s cloak. At the expiration of the 20 days Ayāz gave the paper to the sultan, who on opening it found the celebrated satire which is now always prefixed to copies of the Shāhnāma, and which is perhaps one of the bitterest and severest pieces of reproach ever penned. Mahmud, in a violent rage, sent after the poet and promised a large reward for his capture, but he was already in comparative safety. Firdousī directed his steps to Mazandaran, and took refuge with Kabus, prince of Jorjan, who at first received him with great favour, and promised him his continued protection and patronage; learning, however, the circumstances under which he had left Ghazni, he feared the resentment of so powerful a sovereign as Mahmud, who he knew already coveted his kingdom, and dismissed the poet with a magnificent present. Firdousī next repaired to Bagdad, where he made the acquaintance of a merchant, who introduced him to the vizier of the caliph, al-Qadir, by presenting an Arabic poem which the poet had composed in his honour. The vizier gave Firdousī an apartment near himself, and related to the caliph the manner in which he had been treated at Ghazni. The caliph summoned him into his presence, and was so much pleased with a poem of a thousand couplets, which Firdousī composed in his honour, that he at once received him into favour. The fact of his having devoted his life and talents to chronicling the renown of fire-worshipping Persians was, however, somewhat of a crime in the orthodox caliph’s eyes; in order therefore to recover his prestige, Firdousī composed another poem of 9000 couplets on the theme borrowed from the Koran of the loves of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife—Yūsuf and Zuleikha (edited by H. Ethé, Oxford, 1902; complete metrical translation by Schlechta-Wssehrd, Vienna, 1889). This poem, though rare and little known, is still in existence—the Royal Asiatic Society possessing a copy. But Mahmud had by this time heard of his asylum at the court of the caliph, and wrote a letter menacing his liege lord, and demanding the surrender of the poet. Firdousī, to avoid further troubles, departed for Ahwaz, a province of the Persian Irak, and dedicated his Yūsuf and Zuleikha to the governor of that district. Thence he went to Kohistan, where the governor, Nasir Lek, was his intimate and devoted friend, and received him with great ceremony upon the frontier. Firdousī confided to him that he contemplated writing a bitter exposition of his shameful treatment at the hands of the sultan of Ghazni; but Nasir Lek, who was a personal friend of the latter, dissuaded him from his purpose, but himself wrote and remonstrated with Mahmud. Nasir Lek’s message and the urgent representations of Firdousī’s friends had the desired effect; and Mahmud not only expressed his intention of offering full reparation to the poet, but put his enemy Maimandi to death. The change, however, came too late; Firdousī, now a broken and decrepit old man, had in the meanwhile returned to Tūs, and, while wandering through the streets of his native town, heard a child lisping a verse from his own satire in which he taunts Mahmud with his slavish birth:—
“Had Mahmud’s father been what he is now |
He was so affected by this proof of universal sympathy with his misfortunes that he went home, fell sick and died. He was buried in a garden, but Abu’l Kasim Jurjani, chief sheikh of Tūs, refused to read the usual prayers over his tomb, alleging that he was an infidel, and had devoted his life to the glorification of fire-worshippers and misbelievers. The next night, however, having dreamt that he beheld Firdousī in paradise dressed in the sacred colour, green, and wearing an emerald crown, he reconsidered his determination; and the poet was henceforth held to be perfectly orthodox. He died in the year 411 of the Hegira (1020 A.D.), aged about eighty, eleven years after the completion of his great work. The legend goes that Mahmud had in the meanwhile despatched the promised hundred thousand pieces of gold to Firdousī, with a robe of honour and ample apologies for the past. But as the camels bearing the treasure reached one of the gates of the city, Firdousī’s funeral was leaving it by another. His daughter, to whom they brought the sultan’s present, refused to receive it; but his aged sister remembering his anxiety for the construction of the stone embankment for the river of Tūs, this work was completed in honour of the poet’s memory, and a large caravanserai built with the surplus.
Much of the traditional life, as given above, which is based upon that prefixed to the revised edition of the poem, undertaken by
