BAKÁWALÍ IS RE-BORN IN THE HOUSE OF A FARMER—WHEN SHE IS OF MARRIAGEABLE AGE THE PRINCE AND CHITRAWAT MEET HER AND THEY ALL THREE PROCEED TO HIS OWN COUNTRY, WHERE HE IS WELCOMED AFFECTIONATELY BY DILMAR AND MAHMUDA—BAHRAM, THE SON OF ZAYN UL-MULUK’S VAZÍR, FALLS IN LOVE WITH RUH-AFZA, THE COUSIN OF BAKÁWALÍ.
They say that the ground on which the temple of Bakáwalí once stood was tilled by a farmer, who sowed it with mustard-seed. Táj ul-Mulúk often repaired thither to gaze upon the fields, which were spread with carpets of the richest verdure. When the plants emerged from the soil and blossomed the prince visited the fields each morning and evening, and thus addressed them:
“Flowers of the field! how fare ye here? Love’s fragrance in your bloom I find; From earth emerging ye appear— Say, where’s the charmer of my mind?”
In due time the mustard-plants ripened, and the farmer reaped his crop and put it in the oil press. Peasants are generally accustomed to try the first fruits of their fields themselves. Hence it happened that the farmer’s wife, partaking of a dish prepared with the oil thus produced, became pregnant, although she had hitherto been sterile. In due course she gave birth to a fairy-faced daughter, whose presence illumined the heretofore dark abode of the farmer. It was soon noised abroad that a hitherto sterile woman had brought forth a fair daughter through the virtue of some mustard oil. As for the infant, the neighbours all declared that, while even now the splendour of her countenance eclipsed that of the moon, when she should have reached her fourteenth year it would excel the glory of the sun itself.
When Táj ul-Mulúk heard of this wonderful occurrence, he summoned the farmer and his babe to his presence; and the moment he cast his eyes upon the latter, he recognised the features of his beloved, and was convinced that Bakáwalí had been thus re-born in the farmer’s humble abode.[210] He gave the farmer a large sum of money and desired him to bring up the infant with every possible care. When she was seven years of age, many were the applications made for her hand in marriage; but the farmer, remembering that the prince had shown a deep interest in her welfare, knew not how to decide. To all he replied that when the girl came to be of marriageable age, she should have free permission to choose her husband. When she was on the verge of her tenth year,[211] Táj ul-Mulúk sent a messenger to her father, demanding the hand of his daughter in marriage. The farmer trembled when he heard this, saying: “How can a poor farmer dare to make the king’s son-in-law the husband of his daughter? Should I even do so, the result must be that her position will be that of a slave; and I cannot think of such a fate for my lovely child.” When Bakáwalí heard him thus soliloquise, “Father,” said she, “hear me. My name is Bakáwalí, and I am a fairy. Do not be anxious on my account; for the rose is always destined to grace the head, and the pearl to adorn the princely diadem. In answer, desire the prince to wait for a few days more.” The messenger of Táj ul-Mulúk returned and gave him an account of all that he had heard. The prince was highly delighted; his sorrows all vanished. He rewarded the messenger and dismissed him.