Then Rustam spake thus to Asfandiyár:—
“My deeds remain as my memorial;
So now in simple justice hear the words
Of one whose name is known—an ancient man:
If I had gone not to Mázandarán,*
And borne my massive mace upon my shoulder,
Where would have been blind Gív, Gúdarz, and Tús,
And our exalted Sháh—that sport of grief?
Where they made fast his feet in heavy fetters,
I took an army of Íránians,
Drawn from wherever there were prince and chief,
Slew in the fight that folk's king, and made void
Their famous throne. The monarch of the world—
Káús himself—was captive and his heart
Was stricken by anxiety and travail.
Meanwhile Afrásiyáb was in Írán
Together with his host and famous chiefs.
Then it was I who rescued Kai Káús
As well as Tús, Gív, and Gúdarz, and brought them
Back to Írán out of Hámávarán,
Brought all the paladins and men of name.
One dark night as I went before the troops
In search of fame, not rest, Afrásiyáb
Discerned my fluttering flag and heard Rakhsh neigh:
Abandoning Írán he made for Chín,
And justice and thanksgiving filled the world.
Had blood come from the neck of Kai Káús
How could he have begotten Siyáwush?
Had saintly mother not borne Kai Khusrau,
Who would have named Luhrásp for Sháh? Why vaunt
who saith: ‘Go, bind the hands
Of Rustam’? Not high heaven itself shall bind them!
From boyhood up to now in mine old age
I have not borne such words from any man.
To make excuses and beg off would shame me;
To speak thus mildly is a degradation.”
Asfandiyár smiled at his violence
And, reaching out and gripping Rustam's hand,
Said: “Rustam of the elephantine form!
Thou art what all have represented thee;
Thine arm is mighty as a lion's thigh,
Thy breast and limbs are like a lusty dragon's,
Thy waist is fine and slender as the pard's,
And such a chieftain beareth off the day.”
He squeezed the hand of Rustam as he spake,
But yet the youth made not the old man writhe;
Though gall exuded from his finger-nails
Good sooth the hero writhed not with the pain.
Then Rustam grasped the prince's hand in his,
And said: “O prince and worshipper of God!
How blessèd is the famous Sháh Gushtásp
To have a son such as Asfandiyár!
How blest is he who getteth one like thee:
He addeth to the glory of the world!”
He spake and grasped the other's hand until
The prince's face became as red as blood,
Till blood and water oozed out from his nails,
And he was frowning, though he laughed and said:—
“Famed Rustam! drink today. In fight tomorrow
Thou wilt have pain and think no more of feasting.
Or ever I shall saddle my black steed,
And place the royal helm upon my head,
I will unhorse thee with my spear: thereafter
Thou wilt not seek for battle and revenge.