When he had reached Jíhún from famous Balkh
The captain of the army made a halt.
The Sháh departed from among the troops,
Alighted from his steed and, having mounted
Upon the throne, called unto him forthwith
Jámásp his counsellor, the chief archmage,
The first among the nobles, and the lustre
Both of the great men and the generals.
So pure in person was he, so devout
Of soul, that mysteries were revealed to him.
He was a mighty reader of the stars,
And who in point of knowledge had his standing?*

Of him the Sháh inquired: “God hath endowed thee
With honest counsel and the good religion.
There is none like thee in the world; in short
The Ruler of the world hath given thee knowledge;
So make thy calculations of the stars,
And tell me all the aspect of affairs.
How will the battle go from first to last,
And which of us will meet disaster here?”

The old Jámásp was grieved, with rueful looks
He said: “I would to God that He, the Just,
Had not bestowed on me this skill and wisdom,
For then the Sháh would not have questioned me;
Yet will I speak for, if I answer not,
The king of kings will have me put to death.”
The world-lord answered: “By the name of God,
By his—the holy bringer of the Faith—
And by the life of that brave cavalier,
Zarír, and that of great Asfandiyár,
I will not ever do thee injury,
Myself, or bid another so to do.
Say what thou knowest touching this affair,
For thou canst give, and I am seeking, help.”
The sage made answer: “O illustrious Sháh!
May thy crown flourish everlastingly.
Know, Kaian warrior, seeker of renown!
When fight shall bring the heroes face to face,
When they shall raise their shouts and battle-cries,
And thou wouldst say: ‘They tear up all the moun-tains,’
The mighty men of valour will advance,
And air grow pitchy with the dust of battle;
Then will the world be darkened in thine eyes,
Fire will fulfil the earth and reek the air,
While mid the blows struck and the massive maces,
Descending like smiths' hammers on the steel,
The twang of bowstring will oppress the brain,
And air re-echo with the charger's neigh;

V. 1516

The heavens will be broken, spheres and vaults,
The standards drenched with gore. Full many sons
Wilt thou see fatherless and fathers sonless!
First will Ardshír, that Kaian, the king's son,
The famed and gallant, urge his charger forth,
And fling whoe'er opposeth in the dust,
Unhorsing of the Turkman cavaliers
A number greater than the tale of stars,
Yet in the end be slain and his good name
Erased. The monarch's son, the great Shídasp,
In vengeance then will urge his sable steed,
Rage, draw his sword, and charging slay full many
A horse and man, but in the end his fortune
Will be abased, and his crowned head be bare.
Then my son will come forward with his loins
Girt with my girdle for Shídasp's avengement,
And go, like Rustam, in between the hosts.
How many men of name and warriors
Of Chín will that brave Lion bring to earth,
And undergo much travail in the fray!
I tell the king of kings that Girámí,
What time the Íránians drop the glorious flag
Of Káwa, will behold it from his charger,
All dust and blood, and leaping to the ground
Will raise it bravely, with the scimitar
In one hand and the standard in the other—
The violet standard—and while thus bestead
Will overthrow the foe and root the life
Out of those Áhrimans; then suddenly
An enemy vindictively will strike
One hand off with the trenchant scimitar,

V. 1517

And Girámí will seize the violet flag
Between his teeth and hold it therewithal,
While with one hand he maketh foes to vanish:
No man hath seen a feat more wonderful;
Yet will a Turkman with an arrow smite
His breast and bring his head and crown to dust.
Next nobly born Nastúr, son of Zarír,
Will urge his charger forward like a lion,
And when at last he shall return in triumph,
With hands that have been stretched out o'er the foe,
Nívzár, the chosen horseman, will go forth,
The world-lord's son, will overthrow three score
Of foemen, and display the mastery
Of paladins; but in the end the Turkmans
Will smite him with their arrows and will fling
His elephantine body to the dust.
Next to advance will be that valiant Lion,
That warrior-horseman who is named Zarír.
He will go forth, a lasso in his hand,
Upon his Arab bay, arrayed in breastplate
Of gold resplendent as the moon. The troops
Will be astonied at him. He will take
A thousand warriors of the Turkman host,
Put them in bonds, and send them to the Sháh,
And wheresoe'er that prince shall turn his face
He will pour forth his foemen's blood in streams.
No one will take that royal paladin,
Who will confound the monarch of the tents.*

V. 1518

Then will Zarír see great Ardshír o'erthrown
With livid cheeks and form like turmeric,
Will bitterly lament him and, grown grim,
Urge his bay Arab onward and will set
In bitter wrath his face against the Khán:
Thou wouldest say: ‘Ne'er hath he looked on flight!’
When he shall see Arjásp among the host
He will proclaim the praise of Sháh Gushtásp,
O'erthrow the battle of the enemy,
And, looking not to any one on earth,
Proclaim the Zandavasta of Zarduhsht,
And put his kingly confidence in God;
But in the end his fortune will be darkened,
The chosen Tree be felled, for there will come
One, Bídirafsh by name, and make his way
Toward the spear that hath the violet standard,
But, daring not to face the chosen champion,
Will lie in wait for him upon the road,
And bar it like a maddened elephant,
While grasping in his hand a venomed sword.
As prince Zarír returneth from the fight,
And thou wouldst say: ‘He cometh from a feast,’
That Turkman will let fly at him an arrow,
Not daring to assail him openly,
And thus the chief of nobles will be lost
Through loathly Bídirafsh, who will bear off
His charger and his saddle to the Turkmans.
What man will then be foremost to avenge him?
Anon this famous, mighty host will close,
Like wolves and lions, on the foe, and earth
Will in the mellay blush with warriors' blood,
Their faces all be wan, the bravest tremble,
The army's dust will hide the sun and moon,
While flashes from the spearheads, swords, and arrows
Will glisten as the stars among the clouds.

V. 1519

Then Bídirafsh, that valiant miscreant,
Will go forth like a wolf that raveneth,
And, holding in his hand the envenomed glaive,
Will urge his steed like some mad elephant.
By his hand will a multitude of troops,
And those the choicest of the Sháh's, be slain.
Then will the glorious Asfandiyár,
With troops behind and God to succour him,
In blood-stained raiment and with soul fulfilled
By hate bring Doomsday down on Bídirafsh,
Smite with an Indian sword a single blow,
And hurl down half his body from the saddle.
Then with his iron mace in hand the prince
Will illustrate his Grace and majesty,
Will break the foemen with a single charge,
And shall he let them go when they are broken?
Nay, with a spearpoint will he gather them,
And scatter them abroad in utter ruin,
While in the end the king of Chín will flee
Before Asfandiyár, that glorious Kaian,
And in his flight will make toward Túrán,
Heart-broken and in tears, and cross the waste
With but a scanty following, while the Sháh
Will be triumphant and the foe destroyed.
Know, O thou chosen chief of sovereigns!
What I have said will not be otherwise.
From me thou wilt hear nothing more or less;
Regard me not henceforth with louring looks.
I have not said the things that I have said
Save at thy bidding, O victorious Sháh!
And as for what the glorious Sháh hath asked
Of that deep sea and dark abysm of fate,

V. 1520

I have not kept back aught that I have seen,
Else why should I have told the Sháh these secrets?”
Now when the Sháh, the master of the world,
Heard this revealed he sank back on his throne,
And dropped thegolden mace; thou wouldst have said:—
“His Grace and majesty alike are gone.”
He fell upon his face and swooned away,
He spake no word and uttered not a sound.
The monarch when his sense returned to him
Descended from his throne, wept bitterly,
And “What to me,” he said, “are throne and kingship
When all my day shall have been turned to gloom,
My Moons, brave cavaliers, and princes gone?
What need have I for empiry and fortune,
For puissance and host, for crown and throne,
When those that I love best, the most renowned,
The chosen of the host, shall have departed,
And from my body pluck my wounded heart?”
Then to Jámásp he said: “Since things are so,
When it is time to go forth to the battle,
I will not call upon my valiant brother,
I will not burn mine agèd mother's heart.
I will forbid his going to the fight,
And give the host to glorious Gurazm.
Those of blood Kaian with my youthful sons,
Who all are as my body and my soul,
Now will I call before me, will prevent
Their arming and will seat them in my presence.
How can the points of poplar arrows reach
These rocks and mountains higher than high heaven?”
The sage replied: “Most gracious, glorious Sháh!
If these be not before the army, helmed,
Who will dare face the warriors of Chín?
Who will retrieve the Grace and holy Faith?
Rise from this dust, be seated on the throne,
And ruin not the Grace of sovereignty,
For 'tis God's purpose which no shift can stay;
The Maker of the world is not a tyrant.

V. 1521

Thou wilt not profit by indulging grief,
For that which shall be is as good as done.
Distress thy heart no more then but acknowledge
The justice of the Maker of the world.”
He gave much counsel while the Sháh gave ear,
Grew like the sun, and mounted to his throne,
And as he sat his purpose was confirmed
To fight the ambitious monarch of Chigil;
Oppressed with thought he gat no sleep that night,
And was all eagerness for war and fight.