Ḥusayn Khán was beside himself with rage, and ordered an attendant to strike the Báb's face. His turban fell off but was replaced gently by Shaykh Abú-Turáb, the Imám-Jum`ih, who treated the Báb with respect and consideration. On the other hand, Shaykh Ḥusayn-i-`Arab, the Tyrant, who was also present, following the example set by the arrogant Governor of Fárs, assailed the Báb vehemently both with hand and tongue. In the meantime news had reached the mother of the Báb of this shameless behaviour towards her Son. Moved by her pleadings, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí hurried to the citadel to demand the release of his Nephew. Ḥusayn Khán agreed to let the Báb go to His home, if His uncle would promise that apart from the members of His family no one else would be allowed to meet Him. Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Ali protested that he himself was a well-known merchant of the city, with many connections and a host of friends and acquaintances, all of whom would wish to visit his Nephew, who had just returned from pilgrimage to the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. Ḥusayn Khán, realizing that an immediate ban was not possible, set a time limit of three days, after which the Báb should be kept incommunicado.
The months during which the Báb lived under surveillance in His native town saw the birth of the Bábí community. Hitherto His identity had remained unrevealed, and only individuals, here and there and unrelated to one another, were Bábís. Apart from the first few months of His Ministry, when the body of the Letters of the Living was gradually forming, the Báb had not had a group of disciples around Him. Even then, because of the condition which the Báb had laid down for the attainment of those who were to be the first believers,[CC] cohesion as one firmly-knit body was not feasible. And as soon as the requisite number was enrolled, the Báb sent them out into the world to spread the glad tidings of the New Day. But, once again in Shíráz, despite the oppressive measures of Ḥusayn Khán, an appreciable number of Bábís came into the presence of the Báb, consorted with Him and received instruction and Tablets from Him. Viewed in this light, this Shíráz episode would seem the most fecund period in the short Ministry of the Báb.
Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í, who, as we have seen, had known the Báb from His childhood, now hurried to Shíráz; and soon after came a man destined to achieve high fame in the ranks of the 'Dawn-Breakers'. He was Siyyid Yaḥyá of Dáráb, the son of the same greatly-revered Siyyid Ja`fari-Kashfí, whom we noted before as a fellow-pilgrim of the Báb. Siyyid Yaḥyá was a divine of great erudition, and he thought that he could easily overcome the Báb in argument. As he lived in Ṭihrán, close to royal circles, Muḥammad Sháh asked Siyyid Yaḥyá to go to Shíráz and investigate the claim of the Báb. In Shíráz he was the guest of the Governor. Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í arranged a meeting between the Báb and Siyyid Yaḥyá in the house of Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Ali. At that first encounter Siyyid Yaḥyá, proud of his vast knowledge, brought out one abstruse point after another from the Qur'án, from Traditions, from learned works. To all of them the Báb listened calmly, and gave answers concise and convincing. Siyyid Yaḥyá was subdued, but still he searched for a test which would relieve him from the necessity of giving his allegiance to the Báb. He told Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í that if only the Báb would show forth a miracle, his lingering doubts would vanish, to which Ḥájí Siyyid Javád replied that to demand the performance of a miracle, when faced with the brilliance of the Sun of Truth, was tantamount to seeking light from a flickering candle. Siyyid Yaḥyá has himself related:
I resolved that in my third interview with the Báb I would in my inmost heart request Him to reveal for me a commentary on the Súrih of Kawthar.[CD] I determined not to breathe that request in His presence. Should He, unasked by me, reveal this commentary in a manner that would immediately distinguish it in my eyes from the prevailing standards current among the commentators on the Qur'án, I then would be convinced of the Divine character of His Mission, and would readily embrace His Cause. If not, I would refuse to acknowledge Him. As soon as I was ushered into His presence, a sense of fear, for which I could not account, suddenly seized me. My limbs quivered as I beheld His face. I, who on repeated occasions had been introduced into the presence of the Sháh and had never discovered the slightest trace of timidity in myself, was now so awed and shaken that I could not remain standing on my feet. The Báb, beholding my plight, arose from His seat, advanced towards me, and, taking hold of my hand, seated me beside Him. 'Seek from Me,' He said, 'whatever is your heart's desire. I will readily reveal it to you.' I was speechless with wonder. Like a babe that can neither understand nor speak, I felt powerless to respond. He smiled as He gazed at me and said: 'Were I to reveal for you the commentary on the Súrih of Kawthar, would you acknowledge that My words are born of the Spirit of God? Would you recognise that My utterance can in no wise be associated with sorcery or magic?' Tears flowed from my eyes as I heard Him speak these words. All I was able to utter was this verse of the Qur'án: 'O our Lord, with ourselves have we dealt unjustly: if Thou forgive us not and have not pity on us, we shall surely be of those who perish.'
It was still early in the afternoon when the Báb requested Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí to bring His pen-case and some paper. He then started to reveal His commentary on the Súrih of Kawthar. How am I to describe this scene of inexpressible majesty? Verses streamed from His pen with a rapidity that was truly astounding. The incredible swiftness of His writing, the soft and gentle murmur of His voice, and the stupendous force of His style, amazed and bewildered me. He continued in this manner until the approach of sunset. He did not pause until the entire commentary of the Súrih was completed. He then laid down His pen and asked for tea. Soon after, He began to read it aloud in my presence. My heart leaped madly as I heard Him pour out, in accents of unutterable sweetness, those treasures enshrined in that sublime commentary. I was so entranced by its beauty that three times over I was on the verge of fainting. He sought to revive my failing strength with a few drops of rose-water which He caused to be sprinkled on my face. This restored my vigour and enabled me to follow His reading to the end.[7]
The Báb's conquest of Siyyid Yaḥyá was total. That night and the two following nights, as instructed by the Báb, Siyyid Yaḥyá remained a guest in the house of Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí, until he himself and Mullá `Abdu'l-Karím-i-Qazvíní, the scribe, (later known as Mírzá Aḥmad-i-Kátib), completed the transcription of the Báb's commentary. Siyyid Yaḥyá has stated:
We verified all the traditions in the text and found them to be entirely accurate. Such was the state of certitude to which I had attained that if all the powers of the earth were to be leagued against me they would be powerless to shake my confidence in the greatness of His Cause.[8]
Siyyid Yaḥyá had stayed away for such a long time from the Governor's residence that Ḥusayn Khán's suspicions were aroused. To his impatient queries, Siyyid Yaḥyá replied:
No one but God, who alone can change the hearts of men, is able to captivate the heart of Siyyid Yaḥyá. Whoso can ensnare his heart is of God, and His word unquestionably the voice of Truth.[9]
Ḥusayn Khán was nonplussed and, for the moment, could only hold his peace; but he wrote bitterly to Muḥammad Sháh to denounce Siyyid Yaḥyá. Nabíl-i-A`ẓam states that Muḥammad Sháh reprimanded his Governor, replying: