This coil of ill grew clear as Faríburz,
Glad-hearted, with the monarch's robe of honour,
And with the crown with earrings,*

came to Rustam,
Whereat that elephantine hero joyed.
The great men of the army met and praised
The paladin: “May earth be prosperous
Through Rustam, be the Sháh's life glad, and may
Írán still flourish, field and fell, through him.”
Thence Rustam led the army on its march,
Reached Sughd and spent two sennights there, engaged
In hunting onager and quaffing wine,
And in such pleasures fleeted time a while.
On marching one stage thence he saw a city
By name Bídád*

—a hold inhabited
By folk whose only food was human flesh.
The lovely there were ever perishing,
While at the table of a king so loathly
The flesh of growing youths alone was served.
Those slaves that were the goodliest, and were
Unblemished in their faces and their forms,

Supplied the provand for the monarch's board;
Such was his food. The peerless Rustam called
Three thousand cavaliers all clad in mail
On barded steeds and sent them to that hold
With Gustaham and two more valiant chiefs;
Bízhan the son of Gív was one, Hajír*

The other—both redoutable in fight.
The king's name was Káfúr; he held the city
By patent. When he heard that from Írán
A host, led by a famed and warlike chief,
Approached, he armed as did his pard-like people,
Who were skilled lasso-flingers, cavaliers,
And Stones and Anvils in the fray. Káfúr
Encountered Gustaham; the armies closed;
'Twas such a fight as when a lion chargeth
Upon a deer; full many Íránians
Were slaughtered and keen fighters turned their heads.
When Gustaham saw this, and that the world
Was in that curst div's hand, he bade his troops
To shower shafts—the horseman's ambuscade.
Káfúr said to his chiefs: “No arrow-head
Will dent an anvil. Ply sword, mace, and lasso,
And take yon leaders' heads within the noose.”
Awhile they fought so that the stream flashed fire,

And many of the Íránians were slain;
A sky of bale turned o'er them. Gustaham
Said to Bízhan in haste: “Ride hence. Tell Rustam:—
‘Pause not, but come with ten score cavaliers.’”
Bízhan the son of Gív went off like wind,
And told the matter to the matchless one,
Whose stirrups felt his weight as with his men
He rode, who heeded neither hill nor dale.
He reached the field of battle, as it were
A torrent rushing from the gloomy hills,
And shouted to Káfúr: “Unskilful knave!
Now will I bring thy fighting to an end.”
Káfúr came rushing with a furious charge
Against the royal and fruit-bearing Tree,
And hurled his sword, as though it were an arrow,
To strike the lion-taking chief, but Rustam
Received it on his shield and took no harm.
Káfúr next flung his lasso o'er the son
Of Zal, who ducked his head. Then Rustam raised
His war-cry like an angry elephant,
Whereat Káfúr stood still in blank amaze,
And Rustam smote his head-piece with the mace,
Which smashed together helmet, head, and neck:
His brains ran down his nostrils, and Káfúr
The warrior fell. Then Rustam, slaughtering still
Without distinction as to great or small,
Charged at the castle-gate, but those within
Made fast the portal, poured down showers of arrows,
And called to him: “O man of strength and sense,
Thou Elephant arrayed in leopard's hide!
What did thy father name thee at thy birth?
‘The lasso-flinger,’ or ‘The sky of fight’?
Alas for all thy toil against this city!
Its name is ‘Warstead’ with the knowing ones.
When Túr the son of Farídún had left
Írán he called men skilled in every way,
And by their aid began to build these walls
Of stones and timber, brick and reeds, thus built them
By toil and sorcery, expending toil
And draining treasury, and gallant men
Have striven much to send up dust therefrom,
But none hath mastered them or profited.
Here are munitions and abundant food,
With subterranean ways to bring in more.
Though thou mayst toil for years thou wilt get naught
But strife, for catapults reach not these walls,
Fenced by Túr's magic and the breath of priests.”
Now Rustam when he heard grew full of thought,
His battle-loving heart was like a thicket,
Such fighting liked him not, he brought up troops
From every side, here was Gúdarz, there Tús
With trumpets, drums, and elephants behind;
The army from Zábul was on the third side,
Mail-clad and armed with falchions of Kábul.
The veteran Rustam took his bow in hand,
And all the fortress stood astound at him
As he picked off the head of every one
Who showed himself above the battlements:
The shaft-points whispered secrets to those brains—
An intercourse that made no harmony.
In order to dislodge the garrison
He undermined the walls, propped them with posts
Smeared with black naphtha and, when half way round,
Set them on fire. He brought Túr's ramparts down;
The troops advanced on all sides. Rustam bade:—
“On to the assault; ply bow and poplar shaft.”
The brave defenders threw away their lives
With one accord to save their treasured wealth,
Their children and their country and their kin:
Far better for them had they ne'er been born!
The Íránian warriors advanced on foot,
And took their bows and arrows, and their shields,
Advanced supported by the javelin-men,
And led on by Bízhan and Gustaham.
The raging of the fire and shower of shafts
Left no resource but flight, and those that passed
The castle-walls fled weeping o'er the plain.
Then the besiegers barred the castle-gate
And set themselves to pillaging and slaughter.
What multitudes they slew! How many old
And young they carried captive from the city!
Much silver, gold, and other precious things,
With beasts and slaves—both boys and girls—the
Íránians
Bore off with them, and marched back to the camp.
The matchless Rustam, having bathed and prayed,
Said to the Íránians: “God must have in store
Still better things than these; give praise to Him
For victory and benefits vouchsafed.”
With one consent the great men laid their faces
Upon the ground and offered thanks to God,
Then lauded Rustam: “Thine inferior,”
They said, “might sit contented with his fame;
Thou with thine elephantine form, thy pluck,
And lion's claws hast never fight enough!”
The peerless Rustam said: “This strength and Grace
Are gifts from God; ye also have your shares,
And none can blame the Maker of the world.”
He bade Gív, with ten thousand buckler-men,
On barded steeds to haste and stay the Turkmans
From massing on the marches of Khutan.
When night revealed its dusky curls, and when
The moon's back bent with trouble, Gív departed
With those brave cavaliers and spent three days
In raiding, then, what time the sun displayed
Its crown and mounted on its ivory throne,
Returned with many noble warriors captive,
With many fair-cheeked Idols of Taráz,
With noble horses, and all kinds of arms.
Then Rustam sent a portion to the Sháh,
And gave the rest as booty to the host.
Gúdarz, Tús, Gív and Gustaham, Ruhhám,
Shídúsh the valiant and Gív's son Bízhan
Thereafter rose and lauded him anew.
Thus spake Gúdarz: “Exalted one! thy love
Is needful to the world. We may not open
Our lips by night or day henceforward save
To praise thee. Live glad and bright-souled for ever,
Still old in wisdom and still young in fortune.
God gave thee purity of race; like thee
No one hath e'er been born of stainless mother.
May sire succeed to sire and son to son,
This native worth ne'er fail. Thou needest naught,
Art favoured by the stars, and chief of nobles.
Thy refuge be the Master of the world,
Be earth and time thy partisans. Whoever
Hath travelled o'er earth's surface and beheld
The world and peace and battle and revenge,
Hath nowhere seen a better host than this,
Nor ever heard from time-worn archimages
Of such kings, elephants, and ivory thrones,
Such men and steeds, such treasure and such crowns,
And yet the stars saw it discomfited!
We pondered but saw none to work our cure
Till, as we cried out in the Dragon's breath,
Thy bow delivered us. Crown of Írán,
The Stay of chieftains, and pre-eminent,
Art thou. We are thy lieges. God reward thee,
And ever keep the smiles upon thy face.
Repay we cannot, we can only praise.”
Then peerless Rustam lauded them: “May earth,”
Said he, “be peopled always with the brave.
The nobles of Írán are my support—
My bright heart witnesseth to what I say—
My cheek is freshened by your goodly faces,
My spirit is made radiant by your love.”
He added: “We will tarry here three days,
Rejoicing and illumining the world,
But march to battle with Afrásiyáb
Upon the fourth and set the streams afire.”
In full assent arose the company,
And called for wine and harp and minstrelsy.