Rizā Kulī, may in some way account for Jalál's occasional lack of care displayed in his poetry, and also for the outbursts not far removed from insanity. We are informed by Daulat Sháh that "There was a pillar in the Maulavi's house, and when he was drowned in the ocean of Love he used to take hold of that pillar and set himself turning round it." It was while turning round the pillar that he not infrequently dictated much of his poetry. As Mr. Arthur Symons has sung: I turn until my sense, Dizzied with waves of air, Spins to a point intense, And spires and centres there.[3] We can well imagine Jalál writing the following under the conditions just mentioned: "Come! Come! Thou art the Soul, the Soul so dear, revolving! Come! Come! Thou art the Cedar, the Cedar's Spear, revolving! Oh, come! The well of Light up-bubbling springs; And Morning Stars exult, in Gladness sheer, revolving!"[4] In 1226 A.D. Jalál was married at Lerenda to Gevher (Pearl). She bore two sons and died early in life. Jalál married again and his second wife survived him. II. SHAMSI TABRIZ A word must now be said about Shamsi Tabrīz, an intimate friend of Jalál. We have sufficient evidence to prove that Shamsi Tabrīz, Jalál's _nom de guerre_, was an actual person, and not a mythical creation on the part of the poet. This mysterious being, who flitted across Jalál's life so tragically, seems to have had great personal influence over the poet, who went with him into solitary places and there discussed profound mysteries. The scholars of Jalál looked upon the whole affair as an unworthy infatuation on the part of their Master, and on the part of Shams a shameful seduction. Their protests brought about the flight of Shams, who fled to Tabrīz. But it was only a momentary separation. Jalál followed this strange figure and brought him back again. Most of his lighter poetry was composed during this separation. Another disturbance, however, caused the departure of Shams to Damascus. We then have no clear record of him. Various legends exist in regard to the death of this mysterious person. It may be safely stated, however, that Shams met with a violent death, the exact nature of which it is impossible to say definitely. This strange union is by no means unique in the history of the world's literature. The union, however, in this particular case, is extremely difficult to rightly fathom. We may reasonably infer that Jalál's intense poetic temperament became fascinated by the dogmatic and powerful Shams. The very treatment of this friendship, both in the Lyrical Poems, and in the _Masnavi_, is Súfí The two following quotations, from many that might be cited, will prove sufficient to illustrate this point: The face of Shamsi Dín, Tabrīz's glory, is the sun In whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving. O Shamsi Tabrīz, beauty and glory of the horizons, What king but is a beggar of thee with heart and soul?