When Rustam left, the king of sorcerers
Prepared for war, brought out his tent-enclosure,
And led the whole host forth upon the waste;
Their dust hid sun and desert, plain and mountain,
While earth reeled 'neath the tramp of elephants.

He marched like rushing wind. Káús on hearing,
“The dívs' host is in sight,” first ordered Rustam
To arm for fight and then to Tús, Gúdarz,
Son of Kishwád, and to Gurgín and Gív,
Those men of noble lineage, he gave
The arraying of the host, the ordering
Of spear and shield. They pitched the camp-enclosures
Upon the deserts of Mázandarán.
Upon the right was Tús, son of Naudar,
Whose clarion-blasts thrilled to the mountains' hearts;
Gúdarz was on the left wing with Kishwád,
And clad the heights in iron; Kai Káús,
In chief command, was posted at the centre.
The troops drew up while elephantine Rustam,
Who never saw disaster, led them on.
Juyá, a noble of Mázandarán,
A fame-ensuer, a mace-brandisher,
And bragger likewise, by his monarch's leave
Confronted Kai Káús. The warrior's mail
Shone brilliantly, his falchion seared the ground;
He passed along the Íránian line with shouts
That plain and mountain echoed: “He must send
Dust up from water who would fight with me.”
Not one came out against him, thou wouldst say:—
“Their veins pulsed not with blood.” Then cried
Káús:—
“Why hath this dív's voice, valiant warriors!
Thus dazed your hearts and made your faces dark?”
They answered not a word, and thou hadst said:—
“The host is withered up before Juyá.”
Then Rustam took the reins and shouldering
His shining spear said: “Will the Sháh permit me
To face this caitiff dív?”

Káús replied:—

“Be thine the task, for none will seek it else.
Go! May the Maker aid thee, be all dívs
And sorcerers thy quarry.”

Rustam urged

His gallant Rakhsh and grasped his weighty spear,
Came on the scene like some mad elephant,
A Pard beneath him and in hand a Dragon,
Sent dust-clouds flying as he wheeled about,
And shouting shook the battle-field. “O knave!”
He cried, “thy name is cancelled 'mong the great.
This is no time of peace and ease for thee,
But pity; she shall weep who bare thee, nurtured,
And chastened thee.”

“Be not too sure,” he answered

“About Juyá and his head-reaping sword;
Thy mother's liver shall be split anon,
And she shall wash thy mail and casque with tears.”
When Rustam heard he raised his battle-cry,
Proclaimed his name, and as he charged appeared
A moving mountain, while his foe dismayed
Wheeled round unwilling to contend with him,
But Rustam following, swift as dust, and aiming
The spearpoint straight against the girdlestead,
So speared the mail that straps and buckles burst,
Unseated him, raised him aloft, and turned him
Like bird on spit,*

then flung him down dust-choked,
With shivered mail. The warriors of the foe
Looked on astound, faint-hearted, pale of face,
And babble filled the field. Their king commanded
The whole host, saying: “Lift your heads and fight
Like leopards in this strife.”

The warriors heard

His warlike words, and of that countless host
A vengeful throng advanced. The Sháh perceived it
And came on too in orderly array.
Both armies drew their swords and closed amid
The din of trump and drum, the sky was ebon,
Earth indigo, while swords and maces gleamed
Like lightning flashing from a murky cloud.
The air was crimson, black, and violet,
With spears and flags. The shouting of the dívs,
The clouds of dust, the roar of kettledrums,
And neigh of steeds, rent earth and shook the moun-tains;
None e'er saw such a fight. Arose the din
Of arrow, mace, and sword, the plain became
A pool of heroes' blood, earth like a sea
Of pitch whose waves were maces, swords, and arrows.
Swift steeds sped on like ships upon the deep,
And thou hadst said of them: “They founder fast!”
While maces rained upon the casques and helms
As autumn-blasts shower leaves from willow-trees.
Thus for a week those glory-seeking hosts
Encountered, on the eighth day Sháh Káús
Took from his head the royal casque and stood
Before the Judge and Guide of this world, weeping,
Then falling prostrate he exclaimed: “O Judge

Whose word is truth, who madest sea and land!
Give me to quell these dívs who fear not Thee,
And grace for me the throne of king of kings.”
He donned his helm and joined his famous troops.
There rose a shout and trumpet-blare, the host
Moved like a mountain. He commanded Gív
And Tús to bring the tymbals to the front.
Gúdarz with Zanga son of Sháwarán,
Ruhhám, Gurgín, all eager for the fray,
Guráza like a wild boar, with a flag
Eight cubits high, Farhád, Kharrád, Barzín,
Rushed on the field to seek revenge anew.
First, matchless Rustam charging on the centre
Bathed earth with warriors' blood. Upon the right
Gúdarz fetched with Kishwád arms, drums, troops,
baggage,
While from the right wing to the left Gív fared—
A wolf among the sheep. From dawn till sunset
Blood ran in streams, all looks were fierce and grim,
And thou hadst said: “The sky is raining maces.”
The slain were heaped on every side, the grass
Was smirched with human brains. The drums and
trumpets
Were like a thunder-clap, an ebon veil
Concealed the sun. Then elephantine Rustam
Charged with a mighty power against the quarter
Where stood the monarch of Mázandarán,
Who with his dívs and elephants of war
Awhile maintained his ground. Then Rustam gave
His pointed lance to one to hold, invoked
The name of God, raised high his mace, and raged;
His voice filled all the air, the dívs became
Dispirited, the elephants confounded;
Their trunks were scattered over all the plain,
And naught but corpses could be seen for miles.
Then calling for a spear he charged the king;
Both roared like thunder. When the king beheld
The spear of Rustam wrath and courage failed,
While Rustam, seething with revenge, sent up
A mighty lion's roar, struck the king's girdle,
And pierced him through the mail. The sorcerer
Turned to a boulder by his magic arts
Before the Íránian host, while matchless Rustam
Stood in amaze, then shouldered his sharp lance.
The Sháh came up with drums and elephants,
With standards and with troops, and said to Rustam:—
“Why tarry here so long, exalted chief!”
He answered: “When victorious fortune showed
Amid the stress the monarch seeing me
Took up his massive mace, I gave to Rakhsh
The rein and speared the monarch through the mail.
Methought: ‘Now will he tumble from his saddle.’
He turned to stone before me, as thou seest,
And recketh not of aught that I can do,
But I will carry him to camp, perchance
He will resume his shape.”

The Sháh bade some

To bear and set the stone before his tent.
Then all the strongest of the host essayed
In vain to move the mass, howbeit Rustam
Raised it unaided to the troops' amaze,
Then shouldering the rock walked off therewith
With all the people shouting at his back.
They praised the Almighty, scattering gems and gold
O'er Rustam as he bare the stone and threw it
Before the tent-enclosure of the Sháh.
He set a guard and said: “Quit these black arts
And sorceries to take thy proper shape,
Or else with this sharp steel and battle-ax
Will I break up the stone.”

The sorcerer heard,

The stone dissolved like mist, the king was seen
In helmet and cuirass, and Rustam seizing
His hand turned laughing to the Sháh and said:—
“Permit me to present this piece of rock,
Which feared mine ax and quaketh in my grasp.”
The Sháh on looking saw him not the man
For crown and throne; he had a loathly face,
A lanky shape and boar's head, neck, and tushes.
Káús recalled the past with pain and sighs,
Then bade a headsman hew the dív in pieces,
Whom matchless Rustam taking by the beard
Haled from the presence of Káús. They hewed
The dív to pieces as the great king bade.
They gathered all the booty from the camp,
And put together thrones and crowns and girdles,
Steeds, jewelry, and arms. The troops attended,
And each received according to his meed.
The impious dívs, whom all beheld with horror,
Were then beheaded by the Sháh's command
And flung beside the way. He said in prayer:—

“O righteous Judge! Thou hast not left a wish
Of mine unsatisfied, hast made me conquer
These sorcerers, and revived my hoary fortune.”
He spent a week before the Lord in prayer,
Upon the eighth day oped the treasury-door,
And gave to all that lacked; another week
So passed while every man received his meed.
The third week still within Mázandarán
He called for amber cups and ruby cups,
And spent a night in revel. Thus rethroned
He said to Rustam: “Chief of paladins!
Thou hast displayed thy prowess everywhere,
And now I have received my throne from thee.
Bright be thy heart, thy Faith, and thine allegiance.”
Then Rustam answered: “All men have their uses.
Whate'er I did was owing to Ulád,
My faithful guide, who hopeth now to rule
Mázandarán, for so I promised him
If he did well. Perchance the king of kings,
Who tendereth lieges, will exalt him thus?
First let the Sháh grant him investiture
By solemn covenant and under seal
As monarch of Mázandarán, and then
Let all the other chieftains do him homage.
He will approve himself thy faithful liege
And send to thee the tribute that is due.”
The Sháh, on hearing what his servant said,
Assented, summoned from Mázandarán
The chiefs, and said in speaking of Ulád:—
“Do as he counselleth and bear no grudge.”
He gave Ulád a special robe of honour,
And said: “Good worketh constantly unseen,”
Bestowed on him the royal crown, and then
Set his own face to go to Párs again.