At the break of dawn, King Bahram Gur sat upon his throne and called for radiant wine, whereupon the noble lords of his army gathered around him in joy. Presenting himself at the royal court came a prominent chief of the countryside named Kobravi, bringing camel-loads of pomegranates, crisp apples, fragrant quinces, and royal bouquets of blossoms. Recognizing his devotion, the King welcomed him warmly and granted him a seat of honor among the champions. Elated by the royal favor and the splendor of the feast, Kobravi seized a crystalline goblet holding two mans of wine and drained it in a single draught to the King's glory. Emboldened, he declared before the assembly that he would down seven more goblets—each holding five mans—and still ride home in full possession of his senses without raising a drunken clamor. He drank every last drop, eclipsing all wine-bibbers in the hall.
With the King's leave, Kobravi departed, but as he reached the open plains, the potent wine surged through his veins. He spurred his horse toward the base of a mountain, dismounted in a quiet shadow, and sank into a deep, unconscious stupor. From the craggy peaks above, a black crow swooped down and pecked out the sleeping chief's bright eyes. When his attendants galloped up and found their master blinded and helpless, they wept aloud and carried the grim tidings back to court. Bahram Gur's countenance turned pale with anguish at Kobravi's tragic fate, and he immediately issued a royal decree across the realm: henceforth, the drinking of wine was forbidden to all people, whether high-born or low.