The marriage was celebrated at the beautiful royal retreat where the lovers first met, and it was a scene of unequaled magnificence. There were splendid horses with gold and silver housings, and multitudes of richly attired damsels bearing golden trays of jewels and perfumes. There were camels laden with the richest brocades and velvets of the East; there were Indian swords and elephants; there were bowers of roses and orange blossoms, and garlands of fragrant lilies, and finally there was a golden crown and throne. Having consented to the union, the Persian king taxed the treasury to the utmost to make it the grandest wedding in the land. After several days had been devoted to the festivities, the newly married pair settled down amid the roses and fruits of their vine- wreathed home. From the white crown of a distant mountain down to the river that flowed by their garden temples, the very air seemed tinted with a golden haze, while every breeze was laden with rich perfume. The time passed blithely and rapidly to the young chieftain and his beautiful wife; but one night there was darkness in the garden temples, and gloom in the thickets of roses where the night-bird trilled his sorrowful song to the drooping flowers. There was darkness upon the inner room, for the shadow of death was falling upon court and hall—the fair young wife lay in terrible peril, from which there seemed to be no rescue. The court physicians held council in the adjoining room, while the agonized husband bent over his suffering wife. At last he bethought him of the Sīmūrgh’s plume, and, hastily unlocking the casket, the golden feather was laid upon the fire. His heart stood still while he waited and listened, and lo, there came the rushing sound of a tempest, as the wing of the Sīmūrgh gleamed through the darkness, and she stood beside her foster child. Zāl’s eyes lighted up with hope and gladness as he threw his arms around her soft golden neck, and leaned upon the gorgeous plumage. Then she bent her head caressingly toward his face and whispered a few directions into his ear. Immediately her command was obeyed and the court physicians were interrupted in their solemn conclave, for the cry of a newly-born babe was wafted to their ears, and the young wife was shedding happy tears in the arms of her joyous husband. RUSTEM. The boy who was born that night was a herculean babe, and he became the champion of Persia.[248] As the years went by his marvelous strength became the wonder of the nation, and the especial pride of his father and the old chieftain Suwār. “In beauty of form and vigor of limb, No mortal was ever equal to him.”