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 They found Sanassar a wife and placed him on the throne in his father’s place, and he remained at Bagdad.

Now Abamelik, who reigned in Mösr, left his son Mösramelik to rule in his stead and went to Sassun. Many years passed and children were born to him. To one he gave the name Tschentschchapokrik. The eldest son he named Zörawegi, the second Zenow-Owan; while the third son was called Chor-Hussan, and the youngest David.

Of these, Tschentschchapokrik and Zöranwegi proved to be ne’er-do-weels. Zenow-Owan had such a voice that he dried seven buffalo hides in the sun and wound them round his body so that it should not rend him. But the cleverest of all was David, and to his strength words cannot do justice.

Abamelik’s life was long, but old age came upon him. Once he sat sunk in thought and said to himself: “Enemies are all about me. Who will care for my children after my death? Mösramelik alone can do this, for none beside him can cope with my enemies.”

He set out to visit Mösramelik, but he was very aged. “Mösramelik, my son,” he said, “you are truly of my blood. If I die before you, I intrust my children to you. Take care of them. If you die first, confide yours to me and I will watch over them.”

He returned and lived in his castle. His time came and he died. Then Mösramelik came and took the children to his house, for he had not forgotten his father’s command. Sassun mourned the death of Abamelik for seven years. Then the peasants feasted and drank again with Uncle Toross, for they said: "Uncle Toross, our lads have grown old and our pretty girls are old women. If thou thinkest that by our seven years of weeping Abamelik will live again we would weep seven years longer.” Uncle Toross gave the peasants their way, and said: “Marry your lads and maidens. Weeping leads nowhere.”

And they sat down and feasted and drank wine. Uncle