Early at break of day, Mehrab of Kabul retired from his royal court and stepped into the fragrant, sunlit sanctuary of his private garden. Within those embellished halls dwelled two radiant suns: Sindokht, his sagacious queen, and Rudabeh, their incomparable daughter. The palace was decorated like a springtime garden, filled with rare scents, vibrant tapestries, and precious ornaments. As Mehrab’s eyes fell upon Rudabeh, he stood transfixed by her breathtaking beauty and instantly invoked the holy name of Yazdan in blessing. Before him stood a silvery cypress surmounted by a full moon, crowned with raven locks of sweet ambergris, draped in shimmering silks and jewels—a living paradise of worldly desire.
Sindokht, her ruby lips opening with grace, welcomed her lord and prayed that evil hands might ever be turned away from his path. She then asked: 'How fared your encounter today with this white-haired son of Sam? Does this silver-headed warrior belong upon a throne of kings or in a wild beast's lair? Does he possess true human virtue and follow the exalted ways of noble heroes?'
Mehrab turned to his queen and answered with unfeigned wonder: 'O silver-bosomed cypress, moon-faced lady! Know that in all the wide earth, no hero can match the footsteps of Zal Zar. Neither painted upon the palace murals nor mounted upon a charger in the fury of battle has anyone beheld a knight like him. He possesses the heart of a fierce lion, the strength of a titan elephant, and two hands as bountiful as the roaring Nile. Sitting upon the royal throne, he scatters pearls and wealth; charging into battle, he scatters the heads of his foes. Though his countenance puts the fresh Judas-blossom to shame, he is young in years, alert in mind, and blessed with eternal good fortune. In vengeance he is a deadly sea-monster, and upon the saddle a swift-clawed dragon, staining the dust of battle red with enemy blood as his gleaming dagger flashes. The only fault that fault-finders cast upon him is his snowy hair; yet that very whiteness suits his noble face so exquisitely that it seems a magical enchantment to charm and capture human hearts!'
When Rudabeh heard these passionate words from her father, her cheeks flushed bright red like pomegranate blossoms. In a single instant, the spark of love for Zal ignited within her soul, turning her heart to fire. Peace, sleep, and appetite fled from her; desire supplanted reason and patience, completely transforming her thoughts, demeanor, and inner nature as the tempest of love claimed her heart.