Bozorgmehr in the Iron Oven

From E3.1, Bozorgmehr Falls from Favor. It illustrates E3.1.56–67 (to E3.1.71):

E3.1.56
He bade them forge an oven, narrow, small,Of iron, with no room to stretch at all.
E3.1.57
Within, sharp spikes and nails stood all around;An iron lid above him held him bound.
E3.1.58
There Bozorgmehr could neither rest by day,Nor sleep by night while iron barred his way.
E3.1.59
A third time Anooshirvan sent his word:“Ask how he fares, and bring me what is heard.
E3.1.60
Say, ‘How are you, ringed by spikes and nails,While every point your suffering assails?’”
E3.1.61
The sage received the message without dread,“My days are better than the Shah’s,” he said.
E3.1.62
The Shah’s face darkened at the stubborn sound,And livid anger through his features wound.
E3.1.63
He chose a truthful man of searching mind,To hear the sage and judge what lay behind.
E3.1.64
Beside him walked a swordsman trained to kill,The headsman sworn to do the royal will.
E3.1.65
“Go say, ‘Explain yourself, or you shall die;This swordsman waits to hear your last reply.
E3.1.66
You praised the prison, cage, and piercing chain,Above the Shah’s own throne and royal reign.’”
E3.1.67
The envoy hastened to the sage’s cell,And all the Shah had spoken he would tell.