Zal and Rudabeh · A8.2

Rudabeh and Her Handmaidens

Rudabeh chooses a man known by report and refuses to let her attendants’ fear make the decision for her. Their eventual service follows her insistence.

F&R English · 72 couplets · 7 commentary entries

Parallel text ↓Commentary ↓

The chapter in five texts

Text	Chapter treatment and distinctive choices
F&R English	Seventy-two couplets combine two digital sections and retain a fuller warning and Rudabeh’s extended analogies.
Moscow	Pp 159–163 carry the household scene and resistance; p 160 brackets the extra warning about praising men.
Mohl	Pp 124–127 support the warning, preference analogies and Mai against Ganjoor’s Rai.
Ganjoor	Sh5 has 24 and sh6 41 couplets, combined here as 65.
Khaleghi	The corresponding household and attendants’ scenes fall within pp 186–191; its editorial selection should not be conflated with Mohl’s fuller continuous text.

Parallel text

English left · Persian right. Ganjoor is the reference except where a row names a printed source. Select a number to open the relevant note. G identifiers distinguish digital sections across chapter boundaries.

1–12+

At dawn one day, when morning light was new,

Mehrab came back from Zal’s court as dawn grew.

And toward the women’s chamber made his way,

Where two bright suns outshone the dawning day.

One was Rudabeh, radiant was her face,

Mehrab’s fair daughter, bright as heaven’s grace,

The other, Sindokht, in her counsel wise,

His cherished queen, the light before his eyes.

Both lay adorned like gardens rich in bloom,

With scent and color filling all the room.

He gazed at Rudabeh in deep delight,

And blessed her beauty, shining soft and bright.

She seemed a cypress in the moonlight fair,

With ambergris-dark locks and silken wear.

A living treasure, gleaming to the view,

A hoard that gladdened every eye it drew.

Then Sindokht smiled, her teeth like pearls revealed,

Her purpose hidden, and her thoughts concealed:

“How went your visit? Tell me what you saw.

May fortune shine on you without a flaw.

What kind of man is Zal, with snow-white hair?

More fit for throne, or for the mountain lair?

Does he behave as men of honor should,

And walk the path of chiefs both brave and good?”

چنان بد که مهراب روزی پگاه

برفت و بیامد از آن بارگاه

گذر کرد سوی شبستان خویش

همی گشت بر گرد بستان خویش

دو خورشید بود اندر ایوان او

چو سیندخت و رودابهٔ ماه روی

بیاراسته همچو باغ بهار

سراپای پر بوی و رنگ و نگار

شگفتی به رودابه اندر بماند

همی نام یزدان بر او بر بخواند

یکی سرو دید از برش گرد ماه

نهاده ز عنبر به سر بر کلاه

به دیبا و گوهر بیاراسته

به سان بهشتی پر از خواسته

بپرسید سیندخت مهراب را

ز خوشاب بگشاد عناب را

که چون رفتی امروز و چون آمدی

که کوتاه باد از تو دست بدی

چه مردست این پیر سر پور سام

همی تخت یاد آیدش گر کنام

Ganjoor · m5:1-10

13–21+

Mehrab replied: “No warrior on this earth

Can match his bearing or his proven worth.

No equal form has graced these royal walls,

No firmer hand has answered battle’s calls.

In heart a lion, elephant in might,

His arms like Nile’s broad waters in their flight.

Upon the throne, his gifts and honors flow,

In war, he strikes and lays his foemen low.

His face is bright as blossoms newly grown,

His mind is sharp, his rising fortune known.

In vengeance like a mighty nahang of dread,

In saddle like a sharp-clawed dragon sped.

He turns the dust to red upon the plain,

And wields a blade no enemy can restrain.

One fault alone is said where he is known:

His hair is white! No other flaw is shown.

Yet even this becomes him in my sight;

He draws all hearts despite that streak of white.”

خوی مردمی هیچ دارد همی

پی نامداران سپارد همی

چنین داد مهراب پاسخ بدوی

که ای سرو سیمین بر ماه روی

به گیتی در از پهلوانان گرد

پی زال زر کس نیارد سپرد

چو دست و عنانش بر ایوان نگار

نبینی نه بر زین چون او یک سوار

دل شیر نر دارد و زور پیل

دو دستش به کردار دریای نیل

چو بر گاه باشد در افشان بود

چو در جنگ باشد سر افشان بود

رخش پژمرانندهٔ ارغوان

جوان سال و بیدار و بختش جوان

به کین اندرون چون نهنگ بلاست

به زین اندرون تیز چنگ اژدهاست

نشانندهٔ خاک در کین به خون

فشانندهٔ خنجر آبگون

Ganjoor · m5:11-19

22–27+

When Rudabeh heard this, her cheeks flushed red,

Like blossoms opening on a rose-bright bed.

Her heart filled suddenly with longing fire,

And love for Zal consumed her with desire.

She could not rest or eat or think with ease,

Her thoughts were tossed like leaves on restless seas.

Her nature changed, her peace was cast aside,

And passion ruled where reason once did guide.

A counselor once spoke this warning clear:

“Do not speak much of men where women hear.”

“A woman’s heart,” he said, “the Div may claim;

From what she hears, she fashions her own aim.”

از آهو همان کش سپیدست موی

بگوید سخن مردم عیب جوی

سپیدی مویش بزیبد همی

تو گویی که دلها فریبد همی

چو بشنید رودابه آن گفت‌گوی

برافروخت و گلنارگون کرد روی

دلش گشت پرآتش از مهر زال

از او دور شد خورد و آرام و هال

چو بگرفت جای خرد آرزوی

دگر شد به رای و به آیین و خوی

چه نیکو سخن گفت آن رای زن

ز مردان مکن یاد در پیش زن

Ganjoor m5:20–24 + Mohl p 125 warning excerpt

28–36+

Rudabeh had five Turk maidens at her side,

All loyal, thoughtful, steadfast, true, and tried.

To them she spoke: “I hold a secret deep,

A truth I trust you all to guard and keep.

Attend me now and help me through this fire;

And understand the weight of my desire.

You five have shared my fortune year by year,

My confidantes in every hope and fear.

Know this: I love, and like a storming sea

My heart swells high with waves that master me.

My thoughts are fixed on Zal, and cannot stray;

His image will not turn or fade away.

His love has seized my mind, my sense, my breath;

Without him I am lost in living death.

Though I have never seen his face or frame,

Report alone has set my heart aflame.

It is not beauty, nor his silver hair;

His worth alone has drawn me to its snare.”

ورا پنج ترک پرستنده بود

پرستنده و مهربان بنده بود

بدان بندگان خردمند گفت

که بگشاد خواهم نهان از نهفت

شما یک به یک رازدار منید

پرستنده و غمگسار منید

بدانید هر پنج و آگه بوید

همه ساله با بخت همره بوید

که من عاشقم همچو بحر دمان

از او بر شده موج تا آسمان

پر از پور سامست روشن دلم

به خواب اندر اندیشه زو نگسلم

همیشه دلم در غم مهر اوست

شب و روزم اندیشهٔ چهر اوست

کنون این سخن را چه درمان کنید

چه گویید و با من چه پیمان کنید

یکی چاره باید کنون ساختن

دل و جانم از رنج پرداختن

Ganjoor · m6:1-9

37–49+

The maidens heard and trembled in surprise:

“The princess speaks in folly and denies

Her honor, rank, and all her noble place!

How can she seek such love in such a case?”

They rose against her, voices sharp with fear,

And spoke with force that filled the chamber clear:

“O crown of women, shining bright and high,

Praised from Hind to Chin underneath the sky,

Your painted likeness reaches courts afar,

To Ghanooj, Mai, and lands beneath each star.

No cypress equals you in form and height,

Your beauty dims the stars that shine at night.

Your image travels far across the land,

Desired by kings who seek your noble hand.

Have you forgotten rank and duty owed,

That you would take this strange and reckless road?

His father cast him out in shame and doubt,

A child whom none would dare to speak about.

He lived upon a mountain, wild and bare,

No human kin, sustained by a bird’s care.

No mother ever bore an old man so;

Why seek the white-haired man your heart would know?

Your beauty draws all hearts; your fame is wide,

Why choose a man the world has set aside?

Even the sun would leave its shining sphere,

To claim a bride whose worth shines bright and clear!”

پرستندگان را شگفت آمد آن

که بیکاری آمد ز دخت ردان

همه پاسخش را بیاراستند

چو اهرمن از جای برخاستند

که ای افسر بانوان جهان

سرافراز بر دختران مهان

ستوده ز هندوستان تا به چین

میان بتان در چو روشن نگین

به بالای تو بر چمن سرو نیست

چو رخسار تو تابش پرو نیست

نگار رخ تو ز قنوج و رای

فرستد همی سوی خاور خدای

ترا خود به دیده درون شرم نیست

پدر را به نزد تو آزرم نیست

که آن را که اندازد از بر پدر

تو خواهی که گیری مر او را به بر

که پروردهٔ مرغ باشد به کوه

نشانی شده در میان گروه

کس از مادران پیر هرگز نزاد

نه ز آن کس که زاید بباشد نژاد

چنین سرخ دو بسد شیر بوی

شگفتی بود گر شود پیرجوی

جهانی سراسر پر از مهر تست

به ایوانها صورت چهر تست

ترا با چنین روی و بالای و موی

ز چرخ چهارم خور آیدت شوی

Ganjoor · m6:10-22

50–61+

Rudabeh heard, and anger filled her breast,

Like fire stirred by wind that knows no rest.

With grim-set face and anger in her eyes,

She bent her brows before her fierce replies.

She turned on them with flashing eyes and cried:

“Your words are empty! None can turn my tide!

If one loves stars, what lesser flame will do?

How could the moon content a heart so true?

Can mud replace the rose in scent and hue?

Who feeds on clay will pass the flower from view.

If bitter draft can heal the body’s pain,

Then sweetness only deepens loss and strain.

No Caesar, nor Chin’s Faghfoor, nor a lord

Crowned in Iran, can win my heart’s accord.

Zal, son of Sahm, is strength enough for me,

In him I find the peace I long to see.

Call him what others will, both old and young!

My heart is his, on him my hope is hung.

Speak not of others; he alone I choose,

Though never seen, his love I cannot lose.

My heart chose Zal unseen from what I heard;

This love was born from every praising word.

I do not love his features or his hair;

It is his worth that binds me; worth so rare.”

چو رودابه گفتار ایشان شنید

چو از باد آتش دلش بردمید

بر ایشان یکی بانگ برزد به خشم

بتابید روی و بخوابید چشم

وز آن پس به چشم و به روی دژم

به ابرو ز خشم اندر آورد خم

چنین گفت کاین خام پیکارتان

شنیدن نیرزید گفتارتان

نه قیصر بخواهم نه فغفور چین

نه از تاجداران ایران زمین

به بالای من پور سامست زال

ابا بازوی شیر و با برز و یال

گرش پیر خوانی همی گر جوان

مرا او به جای تنست و روان

مرا مهر او دل ندیده گزید

همان دوستی از شنیده گزید

بر او مهربانم به بر روی و موی

به سوی هنر گشتمش مهرجوی

Ganjoor m6:23–31; Mohl pp 126–127 fuller speech discussed in note

62–72+

The maidens heard her clear, determined voice,

And answered: “We will honor every choice.”

Their cold reproach dissolved in kinder tone,

As love itself now made her cause their own:

“We are your servants, loyal, firm, and true;

Command us now, what must we strive to do?”

One said: “Let none beyond this circle know.

For you, a hundred thousand lives we bestow.

If craft or cunning must be brought to play,

Or subtle arts employed along the way,

We will move swift as birds that cleave the air,

Or run like deer to serve you anywhere.

We shall convey this prince, your chosen one,

And bring him to your side when day is done!”

They cast their stern objections to the ground,

And swore to serve the princess of renown.

Rudabeh smiled with joy and eyes alight,

And answered them with measured, calm delight:

“If you can bring this matter to its end,

You shall plant a flourishing tree, my faithful friend,

A lofty tree that bears rubies each day,

With wisdom gathering fruit along the way.”

پرستنده آگه شد از راز او

چو بشنید دل خسته آواز او

به آواز گفتند ما بنده‌ایم

به دل مهربان و پرستنده‌ایم

نگه کن کنون تا چه فرمان دهی

نیاید ز فرمان تو جز بهی

یکی گفت ز ایشان که ای سرو بن

نگر تا نداند کسی این سخن

اگر جادویی باید آموختن

به بند و فسون چشمها دوختن

بپریم با مرغ و جادو شویم

بپوییم و در چاره آهو شویم

مگر شاه را نزد ماه آوریم

به نزدیک او پایگاه آوریم

لب سرخ رودابه پرخنده کرد

رخان معصفر سوی بنده کرد

که این گفته را گر شوی کاربند

درختی برومند کاری بلند

که هر روز یاقوت بار آورد

برش تازیان بر کنار آورد

Ganjoor · m6:32-41

Narrative and poetic form

The independent force of Rudabeh’s choice is source-based. A fuller English defense can be grounded in her own stated criterion, while the local Rai/Mai difference is traced to a printed reading.

Couplet commentary

Quoted text · evidence · interpretation

1–12Two suns in the women’s quarters

1–12

At dawn one day, when morning light was new,

Mehrab came back from Zal’s court as dawn grew.

And toward the women’s chamber made his way,

Where two bright suns outshone the dawning day.

One was Rudabeh, radiant was her face,

Mehrab’s fair daughter, bright as heaven’s grace,

The other, Sindokht, in her counsel wise,

His cherished queen, the light before his eyes.

Both lay adorned like gardens rich in bloom,

With scent and color filling all the room.

He gazed at Rudabeh in deep delight,

And blessed her beauty, shining soft and bright.

She seemed a cypress in the moonlight fair,

With ambergris-dark locks and silken wear.

A living treasure, gleaming to the view,

A hoard that gladdened every eye it drew.

Then Sindokht smiled, her teeth like pearls revealed,

Her purpose hidden, and her thoughts concealed:

“How went your visit? Tell me what you saw.

May fortune shine on you without a flaw.

What kind of man is Zal, with snow-white hair?

More fit for throne, or for the mountain lair?

Does he behave as men of honor should,

And walk the path of chiefs both brave and good?”

چنان بد که مهراب روزی پگاه

برفت و بیامد از آن بارگاه

گذر کرد سوی شبستان خویش

همی گشت بر گرد بستان خویش

دو خورشید بود اندر ایوان او

چو سیندخت و رودابهٔ ماه روی

بیاراسته همچو باغ بهار

سراپای پر بوی و رنگ و نگار

شگفتی به رودابه اندر بماند

همی نام یزدان بر او بر بخواند

یکی سرو دید از برش گرد ماه

نهاده ز عنبر به سر بر کلاه

به دیبا و گوهر بیاراسته

به سان بهشتی پر از خواسته

بپرسید سیندخت مهراب را

ز خوشاب بگشاد عناب را

که چون رفتی امروز و چون آمدی

که کوتاه باد از تو دست بدی

چه مردست این پیر سر پور سام

همی تخت یاد آیدش گر کنام

Ganjoor · m5:1-10

Textual evidence

Mehrab’s homecoming introduces Rudabeh and Sindokht; the queen asks whether Zal belongs to throne or nest.

Interpretation

The English names the two women in separate couplets and gives the question dramatic space. The nest invokes the hero’s actual fosterage, but its use as an alternative to legitimate rule also exposes a social prejudice.

Return to parallel text

13–21The father himself undoes the stigma

13–21

Mehrab replied: “No warrior on this earth

Can match his bearing or his proven worth.

No equal form has graced these royal walls,

No firmer hand has answered battle’s calls.

In heart a lion, elephant in might,

His arms like Nile’s broad waters in their flight.

Upon the throne, his gifts and honors flow,

In war, he strikes and lays his foemen low.

His face is bright as blossoms newly grown,

His mind is sharp, his rising fortune known.

In vengeance like a mighty nahang of dread,

In saddle like a sharp-clawed dragon sped.

He turns the dust to red upon the plain,

And wields a blade no enemy can restrain.

One fault alone is said where he is known:

His hair is white! No other flaw is shown.

Yet even this becomes him in my sight;

He draws all hearts despite that streak of white.”

خوی مردمی هیچ دارد همی

پی نامداران سپارد همی

چنین داد مهراب پاسخ بدوی

که ای سرو سیمین بر ماه روی

به گیتی در از پهلوانان گرد

پی زال زر کس نیارد سپرد

چو دست و عنانش بر ایوان نگار

نبینی نه بر زین چون او یک سوار

دل شیر نر دارد و زور پیل

دو دستش به کردار دریای نیل

چو بر گاه باشد در افشان بود

چو در جنگ باشد سر افشان بود

رخش پژمرانندهٔ ارغوان

جوان سال و بیدار و بختش جوان

به کین اندرون چون نهنگ بلاست

به زین اندرون تیز چنگ اژدهاست

نشانندهٔ خاک در کین به خون

فشانندهٔ خنجر آبگون

Ganjoor · m5:11-19

Textual evidence

Mehrab praises Zal’s strength, generosity and intelligence, identifies white hair as the single fault, then says it becomes him.

Interpretation

The apparent defect is already being reassessed before Rudabeh speaks. The English correctly preserves the reversal inside Mehrab’s own appraisal; the later maidens do not invent that change in value.

Return to parallel text

22–27Passion and a transmitted warning about hearingFuller printed support

22–27

When Rudabeh heard this, her cheeks flushed red,

Like blossoms opening on a rose-bright bed.

Her heart filled suddenly with longing fire,

And love for Zal consumed her with desire.

She could not rest or eat or think with ease,

Her thoughts were tossed like leaves on restless seas.

Her nature changed, her peace was cast aside,

And passion ruled where reason once did guide.

A counselor once spoke this warning clear:

“Do not speak much of men where women hear.”

“A woman’s heart,” he said, “the Div may claim;

From what she hears, she fashions her own aim.”

از آهو همان کش سپیدست موی

بگوید سخن مردم عیب جوی

سپیدی مویش بزیبد همی

تو گویی که دلها فریبد همی

چو بشنید رودابه آن گفت‌گوی

برافروخت و گلنارگون کرد روی

دلش گشت پرآتش از مهر زال

از او دور شد خورد و آرام و هال

چو بگرفت جای خرد آرزوی

دگر شد به رای و به آیین و خوی

چه نیکو سخن گفت آن رای زن

ز مردان مکن یاد در پیش زن

Ganjoor m5:20–24 + Mohl p 125 warning excerpt

Textual evidence

Ganjoor moves from Rudabeh’s flushed face to her sleepless longing. Mohl p 125 additionally prints the warning not to praise men before women and its Div-and-heart explanation. Moscow p 160 places this warning in brackets.

Interpretation

English 26–27 therefore has printed Persian support. The warning is a gnomic intrusion into the love narrative, not evidence that Rudabeh is literally possessed. Its distrust of women’s hearing sits provocatively beside the heroine’s discerning account of why she loves.

Return to parallel text

28–36A secret entrusted to five women

28–36

Rudabeh had five Turk maidens at her side,

All loyal, thoughtful, steadfast, true, and tried.

To them she spoke: “I hold a secret deep,

A truth I trust you all to guard and keep.

Attend me now and help me through this fire;

And understand the weight of my desire.

You five have shared my fortune year by year,

My confidantes in every hope and fear.

Know this: I love, and like a storming sea

My heart swells high with waves that master me.

My thoughts are fixed on Zal, and cannot stray;

His image will not turn or fade away.

His love has seized my mind, my sense, my breath;

Without him I am lost in living death.

Though I have never seen his face or frame,

Report alone has set my heart aflame.

It is not beauty, nor his silver hair;

His worth alone has drawn me to its snare.”

ورا پنج ترک پرستنده بود

پرستنده و مهربان بنده بود

بدان بندگان خردمند گفت

که بگشاد خواهم نهان از نهفت

شما یک به یک رازدار منید

پرستنده و غمگسار منید

بدانید هر پنج و آگه بوید

همه ساله با بخت همره بوید

که من عاشقم همچو بحر دمان

از او بر شده موج تا آسمان

پر از پور سامست روشن دلم

به خواب اندر اندیشه زو نگسلم

همیشه دلم در غم مهر اوست

شب و روزم اندیشهٔ چهر اوست

کنون این سخن را چه درمان کنید

چه گویید و با من چه پیمان کنید

یکی چاره باید کنون ساختن

دل و جانم از رنج پرداختن

Ganjoor · m6:1-9

Textual evidence

The five Turk attendants hear a confession of love and a request for a remedy. The English anticipates the later argument that the love arose from report and worth, stated again at 60–61.

Interpretation

The repeated justification is a redistribution of the heroine’s case, not two different first encounters. Her choice precedes the servants’ intervention; they facilitate it after being persuaded.

Return to parallel text

37–49The attendants turn difference into unfitnessReported prejudice; local place-name difference

37–49

The maidens heard and trembled in surprise:

“The princess speaks in folly and denies

Her honor, rank, and all her noble place!

How can she seek such love in such a case?”

They rose against her, voices sharp with fear,

And spoke with force that filled the chamber clear:

“O crown of women, shining bright and high,

Praised from Hind to Chin underneath the sky,

Your painted likeness reaches courts afar,

To Ghanooj, Mai, and lands beneath each star.

No cypress equals you in form and height,

Your beauty dims the stars that shine at night.

Your image travels far across the land,

Desired by kings who seek your noble hand.

Have you forgotten rank and duty owed,

That you would take this strange and reckless road?

His father cast him out in shame and doubt,

A child whom none would dare to speak about.

He lived upon a mountain, wild and bare,

No human kin, sustained by a bird’s care.

No mother ever bore an old man so;

Why seek the white-haired man your heart would know?

Your beauty draws all hearts; your fame is wide,

Why choose a man the world has set aside?

Even the sun would leave its shining sphere,

To claim a bride whose worth shines bright and clear!”

پرستندگان را شگفت آمد آن

که بیکاری آمد ز دخت ردان

همه پاسخش را بیاراستند

چو اهرمن از جای برخاستند

که ای افسر بانوان جهان

سرافراز بر دختران مهان

ستوده ز هندوستان تا به چین

میان بتان در چو روشن نگین

به بالای تو بر چمن سرو نیست

چو رخسار تو تابش پرو نیست

نگار رخ تو ز قنوج و رای

فرستد همی سوی خاور خدای

ترا خود به دیده درون شرم نیست

پدر را به نزد تو آزرم نیست

که آن را که اندازد از بر پدر

تو خواهی که گیری مر او را به بر

که پروردهٔ مرغ باشد به کوه

نشانی شده در میان گروه

کس از مادران پیر هرگز نزاد

نه ز آن کس که زاید بباشد نژاد

چنین سرخ دو بسد شیر بوی

شگفتی بود گر شود پیرجوی

جهانی سراسر پر از مهر تست

به ایوانها صورت چهر تست

ترا با چنین روی و بالای و موی

ز چرخ چهارم خور آیدت شوی

Ganjoor · m6:10-22

Textual evidence

Their objection combines reputation, filial honor, white hair and bird fosterage. Ganjoor names Qannuj and Rai in the portrait’s circulation; Mohl p 126 instead prints Mai, supporting the English against Ganjoor’s Rai.

Interpretation

The hostile account is the attendants’ speech. The place-name difference has a specific printed defense and should remain visible rather than being silently harmonized to the digital reference. The solar suitor is extravagant praise, not a literal new character in the marriage plot.

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50–61Worth over conventional preference

50–61

Rudabeh heard, and anger filled her breast,

Like fire stirred by wind that knows no rest.

With grim-set face and anger in her eyes,

She bent her brows before her fierce replies.

She turned on them with flashing eyes and cried:

“Your words are empty! None can turn my tide!

If one loves stars, what lesser flame will do?

How could the moon content a heart so true?

Can mud replace the rose in scent and hue?

Who feeds on clay will pass the flower from view.

If bitter draft can heal the body’s pain,

Then sweetness only deepens loss and strain.

No Caesar, nor Chin’s Faghfoor, nor a lord

Crowned in Iran, can win my heart’s accord.

Zal, son of Sahm, is strength enough for me,

In him I find the peace I long to see.

Call him what others will, both old and young!

My heart is his, on him my hope is hung.

Speak not of others; he alone I choose,

Though never seen, his love I cannot lose.

My heart chose Zal unseen from what I heard;

This love was born from every praising word.

I do not love his features or his hair;

It is his worth that binds me; worth so rare.”

چو رودابه گفتار ایشان شنید

چو از باد آتش دلش بردمید

بر ایشان یکی بانگ برزد به خشم

بتابید روی و بخوابید چشم

وز آن پس به چشم و به روی دژم

به ابرو ز خشم اندر آورد خم

چنین گفت کاین خام پیکارتان

شنیدن نیرزید گفتارتان

نه قیصر بخواهم نه فغفور چین

نه از تاجداران ایران زمین

به بالای من پور سامست زال

ابا بازوی شیر و با برز و یال

گرش پیر خوانی همی گر جوان

مرا او به جای تنست و روان

مرا مهر او دل ندیده گزید

همان دوستی از شنیده گزید

بر او مهربانم به بر روی و موی

به سوی هنر گشتمش مهرجوی

Ganjoor m6:23–31; Mohl pp 126–127 fuller speech discussed in note

Textual evidence

Rudabeh rejects the alternatives of Caesar, Faghfur and Iranian kings. Mohl pp 126–127 additionally prints the star/moon, rose/clay and bitter-medicine analogies absent from Ganjoor’s shorter answer.

Interpretation

English 53–55 belongs to a fuller Persian argument. It gives the heroine a language of preference rather than treating attraction as an unreasoning fall from duty. Her explicit turn toward honar, worth or excellence, supports the English’s central defense.

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62–72Loyalty becomes a practical undertaking

62–72

The maidens heard her clear, determined voice,

And answered: “We will honor every choice.”

Their cold reproach dissolved in kinder tone,

As love itself now made her cause their own:

“We are your servants, loyal, firm, and true;

Command us now, what must we strive to do?”

One said: “Let none beyond this circle know.

For you, a hundred thousand lives we bestow.

If craft or cunning must be brought to play,

Or subtle arts employed along the way,

We will move swift as birds that cleave the air,

Or run like deer to serve you anywhere.

We shall convey this prince, your chosen one,

And bring him to your side when day is done!”

They cast their stern objections to the ground,

And swore to serve the princess of renown.

Rudabeh smiled with joy and eyes alight,

And answered them with measured, calm delight:

“If you can bring this matter to its end,

You shall plant a flourishing tree, my faithful friend,

A lofty tree that bears rubies each day,

With wisdom gathering fruit along the way.”

پرستنده آگه شد از راز او

چو بشنید دل خسته آواز او

به آواز گفتند ما بنده‌ایم

به دل مهربان و پرستنده‌ایم

نگه کن کنون تا چه فرمان دهی

نیاید ز فرمان تو جز بهی

یکی گفت ز ایشان که ای سرو بن

نگر تا نداند کسی این سخن

اگر جادویی باید آموختن

به بند و فسون چشمها دوختن

بپریم با مرغ و جادو شویم

بپوییم و در چاره آهو شویم

مگر شاه را نزد ماه آوریم

به نزدیک او پایگاه آوریم

لب سرخ رودابه پرخنده کرد

رخان معصفر سوی بنده کرد

که این گفته را گر شوی کاربند

درختی برومند کاری بلند

که هر روز یاقوت بار آورد

برش تازیان بر کنار آورد

Ganjoor · m6:32-41

Textual evidence

The attendants offer secrecy, enchantment, bird-flight and deer-like running; Rudabeh promises a ruby-bearing tree as reward.

Interpretation

The impossible motions express readiness to find a means. The English lets the promise acquire narrative momentum without requiring the servants to become actual sorceresses. The reward tree joins action, future abundance and gratitude.

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Chapter source record

English original ↗ Ganjoor m5 ↗ Ganjoor m6 ↗ Moscow p 159 ↗ Moscow p 160 ↗ Moscow p 161 ↗ Moscow p 162 ↗ Moscow p 163 ↗ Mohl p 124 ↗ Mohl p 125 ↗ Mohl p 126 ↗ Mohl p 127 ↗ Khaleghi p 186 ↗ Khaleghi p 187 ↗ Khaleghi p 188 ↗ Khaleghi p 189 ↗ Khaleghi p 190 ↗ Khaleghi p 191 ↗