“O Foolish Ones, blind as moles or worms, know you not, then, that there is but one God of the Persians, even Jemshid the Glorious? Bow the knee unto him, therefore, and not unto Ormuzd.”
Now the wonder of such arrogance held the great crowd breathless for one intense moment; then, suddenly, a shiver ran through the vast multitude, and the cry went up: “Demavend! Look at Demavend! The volcano! Oh, the volcano!” Then all eyes turned unto the mountain. And lo! the snow-covered crest was all aglow with dusky red, while a huge black cloud issued from the crater, and moved with lightning speed down toward the plain, finally hovering like a great black bird of ill omen over the awe-struck people, who turned in their terror for aid unto Jemshid.
But in vain, for even as his subjects gazed upon him, the grandeur and glory of the proud king vanished as if by magic. There was no thunder and no lightning, but suddenly, without a sign of warning, the gorgeous palace fell silently into a heap of unsightly ruins; the gem-studded throne, the wonder and glory of the world, crumbled into a heap of worthless dust; and Jemshid’s royal robes became fluttering rags, such as the very beggars of the streets would disdain.
However, this was not the most terrible thing that happened upon that eventful day, for along the ground glided venomous snakes and loathsome lizards, which quickly sprang up out of the ruins, while down from the black clouds there rained a veritable army of huge scorpions, tarantulas, and swiftly running centipedes.
Now it is unnecessary to say that very soon these loathsome creatures had the great square to themselves, for verily in their mad terror and anxiety to escape, the people fairly flew from the spot. And thus ended their allegiance to Jemshid, for recognizing in the day’s happenings a sure sign of the displeasure of Ormuzd the Blessed, they cried out in their anger that they would no longer obey Jemshid as their Shah, since through his pride and presumption he had forfeited the favor of the Almighty.
So it happened that the people of Iran and Turan, having heard that in the land of Arabia there reigned a monarch mighty and terrible unto his foes, now turned unto Zohak, and Jemshid, fleeing upon his milk-white charger before the Arab host, became a wanderer upon the face of the earth, without a friend, and with many foes. And Zohak, the Serpent King, ruled in his stead.
But though the royal wanderer carried a high price upon his head, the chronicles relate that for the space of twice fifty years no man knew whither he was gone, for he hid from the wrath of the Serpent King. Howbeit, such was the zeal of his enemy, that in the course of time Jemshid could no longer escape the spies of Zohak, who finally captured him, as he wandered upon the shores of far Cathay, and brought him in triumph before the Serpent King.
Yea, like the narcissus bent with heavy dew, oppressed with shame, his hands behind his back, and ponderous chains passing from neck to feet, thus stood before the cruel King the once so glorious Jemshid. But alas! the sorry sight awakened in the breast of Zohak not the lightest thrill of pity as, gazing with a scornful smile upon the fallen monarch, tauntingly he said:
“O Lord of the World, and Heaven, behold thy worshippers at thy feet! But—where is thy diadem? thy throne? Where is thy kingdom now? Where thy sovereign power? Alas, I see them not!”
At this cruel speech, the drooping figure straightened, and kingly Jemshid, gazing unflinchingly into the serpent eyes of his tormentor, thus calmly spoke: