§ 22 Afrásiyáb's Letter to Púládwand

Afrásiyáb set forward from his palace,
And hasted bent on vengeance to the waste.
He gave all needful orders to Pírán,
And then withdrawing cleared his tent of strangers.
They set a scribe before him. “Write,” said he,
“A letter unto Púládwand and make
The matter known. First praise All-holy God,
Who stablisheth and overthroweth us—
The Lord of Saturn and the turning sky,
The Lord of Venus and the shining sun.

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Give praise next to that binder of the strong—
The fortunate chieftain Púládwand, declare
What we have suffered from this famous fighter,
And these renowned and all-accomplished chiefs,
From Tús, Gúdarz, and other warriors.
Then tell him all about my grandson's case—
The master of Írán, the mighty Sháh—
Whom erst I cherished like dear life itself
That no ill blast might reach him. Then proceed:—
‘Now, if high heaven taketh side with us,
Let Púládwand come hither. Many troops
Brought from the marches of Sakláb and Chín
Have been o'erthrown and writhe, much field and fell
Been harried by the warriors of Írán.
Their host is like a moving hill, their chiefs
Are such as Rustam who is in command,
Gúdarz the warrior and Gív and Tús:
They raise the din of tymbals to the clouds.
When Rustam, who alone hath vexed our land,
Shall have been slain by thee no host will come
Against it. Be thou our deliverer.
If by thy hand his term shall reach its end
The face of earth will surely be at rest.
Then from my populous kingdom will I take
But one half of my treasures as my share;
The other half, and half my crown, are thine,
Since both the fight and toil are thine to-day.’”
They sealed the letter with the royal seal,
And Shída, as the moon arose in Cancer,
Girt up himself in presence of his father
To go grief-laden on the embassage.
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He came to Púládwand as swift as fire
Through apprehension of calamity,
Saluted him, delivering the letter
And telling Rustam's deeds. Now Púládwand,
A king whose aspirations reached high heaven,
Lived in the mountain-parts of Chín and had
No peer in all the land. He lacked not troops
And men of war; he was a Crocodile;
His troops were pards. He called his governors
And priests, and held discourse with them at large,
Told what the letter said and, being a prince
Both youthful and imperious, commanded
To bear the drums and camp-enclosure forth
Upon the plain. He gathered troops and dívs.
The battle-cry went up. He led the way,
Equipped with shield, with quiver, and with lasso,
And followed by his standard. He descended
The mountains, crossed the water, and drew near
Afrásiyáb, at whose gate tymbals sounded,
And all went forth to welcome Púládwand.
The veteran monarch first embraced the chief,
Then spake much of the past, told whence arose
The Turkmans' trouble and the remedy.
While going to the palace they considered
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New stratagems. Afrásiyáb discussed
The waiting and the forward policies,
Told of the strife and outcry that had come
Upon him through the death of Siyáwush,
Told of the Khán, Manshúr, and brave Kámús,
Recalling what had passed, and said: “My pain
Is all through one who weareth leopard-skin.
Mine arms are impotent on him and on
That hide, that helmet, and that shield of Chín.
Plains hast thou trodden and a longsome road:
Now fashion us a remedy for this.”
The mind of Púládwand grew full of thought
How this knot should be loosed. He made reply:—
“We must not hurry in so great a war.
This is the self-same Rustam that laid waste
And took Mázandarán with his huge mace,
Who rent the White Dív's side, the liverstead
Of Bíd, and of Púlád son of Ghundí.
I have not prowess to contend with him,
Or power enough to frustrate his attack;
Still let my body and my soul await
Thy will, may wisdom ever be thy guide.
Do thou incite the host against his host,
Our numbers may bewilder him, and I
Will plan a stratagem, for otherwise
We have not strength to break his breast and neck.”
Afrásiyáb grew blythe of mind and brought
Bright wine and harp and lyre, When Púládwand
Was in his cups he roared out to the king:—
“Dark to Jamshíd, Zahhák, and Farídún
Made I their provand, slumber, and repose!
The Brahman hath been frighted at my voice,
And this my noble host, and I will hew
To pieces with my trenchant sword amain
This Zábulí upon the battle-plain!”