Thus saith the ancient sage, that storied man
Of parts and eloquence:—Behind Zál's curtains
There dwelt a slave—a harpist and reciter—
And this handmaiden bore to him a son
As radiant as the moon, a horseman Sám
In form and aspect, and a cause of joy

To all that noble house. The astrologers
And men of science—chosen cavaliers
Both from Kábul and from Kashmír, alike
The worshippers of God and of the Fire—
Went with their Rúman tables in their hands,
And each one took the aspect of the sky
As to its favour toward the little child.
The gazers found a portent in the stars,
And looked at one another. Then they said
To Zál, the son of Sám, the cavalier:—
“O thou remembered by the stars of heaven!
We have explored the secret of the sky:
'Tis unpropitious to this little child,
For when this pretty infant shall grow up,
And reach the days of strength and hardihood,
He will destroy the family of Sám,
The son of Narímán, and wreck their sway.
Through him Sístán will be fulfilled with uproar,
Írán embroiled, and all folks' days embittered,
But afterward his tarriance will be brief.”
Zál, son of Sám, was grieved thereat, invoked
The Judge of all, and prayed: “O Guide of men,
Sustainer of the turning sky, my Refuge
And Stay in everything, who showest me
What rede to follow and what way to go,
And madest heaven and the stars withal,
Have we misdoubted of such excellence?
Be ours contentment, rest, and happiness.”
The chieftain gave his son the name of Shaghád.
He kept the child till he was weaned and grew
Observant, full of charm, and talkative;
Then, when the boy was growing strong of limb,
Dispatched him to the monarch of Kábul.
Now when Shaghád became a lofty Cypress
In height, a horseman puissant with the lasso
And mace, that potentate took note of him,
Esteemed him fit for royal crown and throne,
Rejoiced to look on him and on account
Of his high birth bestowed on him a daughter,
And with that noble daughter sent besides
Fit presents from the spacious treasury,
And guarded him, as he were some fresh apple,
That ill might not befall him from the stars.
The nobles of Írán and Hindústán
Had much to say of Rustam, for he took
An ox-skin full of money from Kábul
Each year as tribute,*

wherefore when the king
Had made Shaghád his son-in-law he thought
That Rustam of Zábul would heed no more
The money from that time; so when 'twas due,
And taken as before, Kábulistán
Was deeply moved. His brother's conduct vexed
Shaghád who spake not of it publicly,
But told the king in private: “I am weary
Of this world's doings. I can not respect
A brother who hath no regard for me.
Not recking whether he be wise or mad,
An elder brother or an alien,
Let us concert a plan of snaring him,
And win us in the world a name thereby.”
They plotted till they soared above the moon
In their imaginations. Hear the sage:—
“The evil that men do they live to rue.”
One night until the sun rose o'er the mountains
Sleep came not to the twain, and thus they said:—
“We will destroy his glory in the world,
And fill the heart and eyes of Zál with tears.”
Shaghád said to the monarch of Kábul:—
“If we would do full justice to our scheme
Prepare a festival, invite the nobles,
And call for wine and harp and minstrelsy.
While we are in our cups speak coldly to me,
And then insult me. I, dishonoured thus,

Will set forth for Zábulistán, complain
About the monarch of Kábulistán
Before my brother and before my sire,
And call thee both discourteous and ill-natured.
Then Rustam will be wroth on mine account,
And come to our famed city. Then do thou
Select upon his route a hunting-ground,
And there dig divers pitfalls large enough
To take both him and Rakhsh, and plant long swords,
With spears and blades of steel with double edges,
The handles downward and the points erect,
About the bottoms of the pits. Of these
It will be better to make ten than five
If thou desirest to be freed from care.
Employ a hundred cunning workmen, dig
The pits, and keep the secret from the wind;
Then make the surface good and hold thy peace.”
The monarch went, put prudence from his mind,
And made a feast as that insensate said,
Invited great and small throughout Kábul,
And seated them before a well-spread board.
When they had eaten they prepared for revel,
And called for wine and harp and minstrelsy.
Now when folks' heads were flown with royal wine
Shaghád designedly grew insolent,
And spake thus to the monarch of Kábul:—
“I am exalted over all the folk;
With Rustam for my brother, Zál for father,
What nobler strain can any one possess?”
The king seemed wroth and said: “Why do I keep
This matter so long hidden? Thou art not
By race from Sám, the son of Narímán,
And neither Rustam's brother nor his kin.
Zál, son of Sám, hath never mentioned thee;
How then shall such an one be called thy brother?
Thou art slave-born, a menial at his gate,
And Rustam's mother would not own thy claim.”
Shaghád, as angered at the monarch's words,
Departed in a passion to Zábul
With certain of Kábul in company,
Revenge at heart and sighs upon his lips.
He reached his glorious father's court, his heart
All machination and his head all vengeance.
Zál at the instant that he saw his son,
So tall and stately, with such Grace divine
And thews received him kindly, questioned him,
And sent him on to Rustam presently.
That paladin rejoiced at seeing him,
To see him sage and of an ardent soul,
And said to him: “The seed of Sám, the Lion,
Produceth only strong and valiant men.
How do things stand betwixt Kábul and thee?
What doth he say of Rustam of Zábul?”
Shaghád replied: “Nay, speak not of the king.
He used to treat me kindly and to bless me
Whene'er he saw me; now he seeketh a quarrel
Against me in his cups and holdeth high
His head o'er all. He humbled me in public,
And showed his evil bent. He said to me:—
‘How long shall we submit to pay this tribute?
Are we unable to resist Sístán?
Henceforth I will not mention Rustam; I
Am equal to him both in strength and parts.’
He further said: ‘Thou art no son of Zál,
Or if thou art so he himself is naught.’
My heart was pained because of those chiefs present,
And so with pallid cheeks I left Kábul.”
When Rustam heard it he was wroth, and said:—
“No matter lieth hidden for all time.
Have no more thought of him or of his realm,
And may his crown and sovereignty both perish.
I will destroy him for his words and wring
His heart and eyes, will seat thee on his throne
In joy, and lay in dust his head and fortune.”
He entertained Shaghád for many days,
Assigned a stately palace for his use,
And from his army chose the fittest men—
Those famed in battle—bidding them prepare
To leave Zábul and occupy Kábul.
When all was ready, and the paladin
Freed from anxiety, Shaghád approached
That man of war, and said: “Think not of fighting
The monarch of Kábul. Were I to limn
Thy name on water merely none would rest
Or slumber there, for who would venture forth
To strive with thee, or who abide thy coming?
Sure am I that the monarch is repentant,
That he would fain atone for my departure,
And even now is sending from Kábul
Picked chiefs in numbers to apologise.”
Then Rustam answered him: “That is the way.
Against Kábul I need no host of men;
Zawára with a hundred cavalry
And infantry of name will do for me.”