me　from　surrendering　myself　to　what　I　saw。

Naturally；　I　was　disappointed　to　find　myself　observing　more　with　my　mind

than　with　my　heart；　despite　the　great　luck　of　having　Allah；　in　His　munificence；

grant　me　the　chance　to　have　my　fill　of　this　legendary　book　before　the　velvet

curtain　of　darkness　descended　over　my　eyes—the　divine　grace　bestowed　upon

all great miniaturists。 By the time the light of dawn reached the Treasury；

which　had　gradually　begun　to　resemble　an　icy　tomb；　I’d　gazed　upon　each　of

the　259　pictures　in　this　superlative　book。　Since　I　looked　with　my　mind；　allow

me once more to categorize； as if I were an Arab scholar interested only in

reasoning：

1。 Nowhere could I locate a horse with nostrils that resembled what the

wretched　murderer　had　drawn：　Not　among　the　variously　colored　horses　that

Rüstem encountered while pursuing horse thieves in Turan； not among

Feridun Shah’s extraordinary horses which swam the Tigris after the Arab

Sultan had denied him permission to do so； not among the gray horses

sorrowfully　watching　Tur’s　treachery　in　beheading　his　younger　brother　Iraj；　of

whom　he　was　jealous　because　their　father；　while　doling　out　his　territory；　gave

the best country； Persia； and far away China to Iraj； while leaving only the

western　lands　to　Tur；　not　among　the