How Bahrám Chúbína had a Dream in the Night, how he gave Battle the next Morning, and how King Sáwa was slain

Now when Bahrám Chúbína was alone
Within his tent he sent and* called the Íránians,
And with his troops took counsel for the fight
Till dark, till Turk and Persian both reposed,
And he that would might have the world for naught;
But brave Bahrám Chúbína still mused war,
While sleeping in his tent. That Lion dreamed
That in the fight the Turks proved valorous,
While his own troops were routed and himself,
Debarred more strife, unsuccoured and afoot,
Asked quarter of the heroes of the foe.
He woke in grief, his noble head sore troubled,
With pain and sorrow passed the hours of dark,
Arrayed himself but told to none his dream.
Just then arrived Kharrád, son of Barzín,
Who had escaped king Sáwa, and spake thus:—
* “What confidence is this? Behold the snare
Of Áhriman and give not to the winds
Íránian lives but treat these nobles fairly;
For valour's sake take pity on thy life,
For nevermore will such a task confront thee.”
“Thy city,” said Bahrám Chúbína, “yieldeth
No valour save thy sample, for all there
Sell fish from Summer-time* till snow-storms come.

Thy work is net and pond; thou art no man
For spear and mace and arrow. When the sun
Shall rise o'er yon dark mountains I will show thee
How kings and soldiers fight. Thou shalt behold
Those elephants and troops of his and all
His fair presentment prostrate in the dust.”
When Sol arose from Leo, and the world
Grew white as Rúman's face, the trumpet sounded,
The battle-cry went up, earth shook beneath
The horses' hoofs, Bahrám Chúbína ranged
His host and mounting grasped a war-worn mace.
They furnished for the right three thousand men,
All-cavaliers mail-clad and veteran.
He sent an equal number to the left,
All valiant, vengeful horsemen. On the right
Ízid Gashasp, who rode through rivers, led,
And on the left Kandá Gashasp who worshipped
The glorious Ázargashasp. Yalán-sína
Supported them with troops as a reserve.
Hamdán Gashasp was posted in the van,
A man whose horse-shoes set the reeds ablaze.
With each there were three thousand warriors,
All fighting cavaliers with hearts of stone.
It was proclaimed: “Ye chiefs with golden crowns!
Whoe'er, though faced by lion or by pard,
Shall flee the fight, by God! I will behead him,
And burn his useless carcase in the fire.”
On each side of the host there was a road
Whereby he* might retreat. On each he raised
A bank ten cubits high. His own position
Was at the centre, and to him there came
The archscribe* of the king of kings and said:—
“This is beyond thy power and thus to mock
At fortune cannot prosper. Of the troops
Upon this field we are the one white hair,
Note, on a sable ox! No soil or stream,
Or hill is visible, so many are
The swordsmen of Túrán!”

Bahrám Chúbína

Cried at him furiously: “Thou recreant wretch!
Thy business is with inkstand and with paper:
Who bade thee take the number of the host?”
The scribe approached Kharrád, son of Barzín,
And said: “Bahrám Chúbína and the Dív
Are mates!”

Those scribes then sought a way to flee

That they might not behold that day of doom.
They feared both king of kings and arrow-rain,
And bit their lips. On one side and afar
From those Túránian horsemen they beheld
A height precipitous and thither fared

A-tremble, saying: “We must watch the host.”
They gazed upon Bahrám Chúbína's helm
To see how he would fight when roused. That hero,
When he had drawn his host up, left the field,
And with loud outcries, prostrate in the dust
Before his God, exclaimed: “O righteous Judge!
If in thy sight this conflict is unjust,
And thou preferrest Sáwa to myself,
Give my heart rest in battle and to Sáwa
His whole desire upon the Íránians;
But if I undergo this toil for Thee,
And risk my head in fight, make jubilant
Me and my troops and by our combating
The world all prosperous.”

Still praying loudly

He mounted with his ox-head mace in hand.
* King Sáwa thus addressed his host: “Begin
Your incantations that the Íránians
May quail in heart and eye, and no disaster
Befall yourselves.”

Then all the sorcerers

Began their spells and hurled fire through the air.
* Rose blast and murky cloud whence arrows showered
Upon the Íránians. Bahrám Chúbína
Exclaimed: “Chiefs, magnates of Írán, and heroes!
Shut ye your eyes to all these magic arts,
And come all wroth to fight, for this is naught
But trick and sorcery, and they that use
Such means demand our tears.”

The Íránians shouted,

And girt their loins for bloodshed, while king Sáwa
Surveyed the field, saw that the foe recoiled not
At those black arts but came on all the more,
Led by Bahrám Chúbína, and assailed,
Like wolf a lamb, their left, brake it and charged,
Like one bemused, Bahrám Chúbína's centre,
Who thence saw how his soldiers fled the foe,
Came, with his spear unhorsed three warriors,
And dashed them headlong to the ground, exclaim­ing:—

“This is the way to fight, this is the mode,
And how to do it! Are ye not ashamed
Before the Lord of earth, the glorious chiefs,
And nobles?”

Then he made toward the right,

As 'twere a lusty lion famishing,
And brake the mighty force opposed to him,
So that their leader's banner disappeared.
Thence he departed to his army's centre,
To where the leader was among the troops,
And said to him: “Perdition take it all!
If this fight last the host will be dispersed!
Look out in what direction to retreat.”
They went and sought; there was not any way
Because the proper road was mounded over.
Then to that leader said Bahrám Chúbína:—
“There is an iron wall in front of us,
And only he that knoweth how to make
A breach therein can gain the other side,
Safe-guard himself and carry to Írán,
And to the monarch of the brave, his life.
All put your whole heart in it, shield your heads,
And ply your swords. If sleepless fortune help us
It will repay our toils with thrones and crowns.
Let none despair of God or ye may see
Your white day turn to gloom.”

King Sáwá thus

Harangued his chiefs: “Advance the elephants
Before the host, attack in force, and make
The world both dark and narrow to our foes.”
Bahrám Chúbína from afar beheld
The elephants, was grieved, unsheathed his sword,
And thus addressed his captains: “Warriors famed!
String up your bows of Chách and helm ye all.
Now by the life and head of this world's king,
The chosen of the lords and crown of chiefs,
Let every one that hath artillery
String up his bow perforce and let him fix
His arrows, fashioned out of triple wood,
Whose points are keen for blood, upon the trunks
Of yonder elephants, then out with mace,
On to the fight, and slay your enemies.”
The chieftain strung his bow and set a casque
Of steel upon his head. He made his bow
As 'twere a cloud in Spring and showered arrows
Before the host: the soldiers followed him.
The stars were dimmed by pointed, feathered shafts.
They pierced the elephants' trunks, and dale and plain
Grew like a pool of blood. The elephants
Turned from the smart and fled the battlefield.

Now when the elephants were smitten thus
They trampled their own troops. The Íránian host
Came on behind and earth grew like the Nile.
All was confusion; many died; ill fortune
Had all its will of them. There was a spot,
A pleasant place, behind that stricken host
Where, on a golden throne, fierce Sáwa sat.
He saw his army like an iron mountain
In flight with heads all dust and souls all gloom,
While from behind enormous elephants
Beyond control were trampling down the troops.
He wept for wherefore should his army flee?
And mounting his bay Arab fled himself
In dire dismay. Bahrám Chúbína came
Pursuing like an elephant run mad,
A lasso on his arm, a bow in hand,
And shouted to his troops: “Illustrious men!
Ill fate hath marked them out.* Rain swords on them,
And quit you in the fight like cavaliers.”
He reached the hill where erst king Sáwa sat
Crowned on a throne of gold, beheld him thence
Upon his mighty lion of an Arab,
And sped forth like a tiger o'er the waste.
He chose an arrow with a glittering point,
Plumed with four eagle's feathers, took in hand
His bow of Chách and laid the deer-hide thong
Within his thumb-stall, straightened his left arm,
And bent his right. The bow twanged as he loosed
The shaft and pierced king Sáwa's spine, who came
Down headlong to the dust; the ground beneath him
Was soaked with blood. Of that great host the king
Bediademed was gone, gone golden throne,
And golden crown.

Such deeds the turning sky

Doth, showing neither love nor enmity.
Joy not in lofty throne and greatly fear,
What time thou feel'st secure, disaster near.
The brave Bahrám Chúbína came and dragged
The corpse face downward wallowing in the dust,
And severed that crowned head while none of all
Its kindred came anear. When the Turks found
Their king the corpse lay headless on the road.
All wailed; cries filled the earth; the air resounded,
And he that was the son of Sáwa said:—
“This is God's doing, for unsleeping fortune
Is with Bahrám Chúbína.”

Multitudes

Died in the strait defiles. The elephants
Trod many under foot; not one in ten
Of all that host escaped. They perished crushed
Beneath the elephants or were beheaded
Upon the battlefield, and when nine hours
Of that ill day had gone the Íránians saw
No enemy alive save prisoners bound,
Their souls and bodies pierced with grief and shafts.
The route was strewn with bards and helms whose heads
Were suffocate therein,* with Indian swords,
With arrows and with bows dropped by the foe
On all sides. Earth was like a sea of blood
With slain, and everywhere were saddled steeds.
Bahrám Chúbína went his rounds to learn
Who had been slain upon the Íránian side;
Then said he to Kharrád, son of Barzín:—
“Give me thine aid to-day and ascertain
What slain Íránians it is ours to mourn.”
He went through all the tents. One man of wor­ship
Was missing in the host—a chieftain named
Bahrám, who was the son of Siyáwush,
A valiant prince, a magnate of Írán,
Descended from a captain of the host.
Like one insane Kharrád went forth in quest
Of traces of him, moving many a form
Of slain and wounded men but found no sign.
The captain of the host was grieved thereat,
And cried: “Alas! thou prudent warrior!”
Howbeit the man himself appeared anon,
A key to that locked door, and with a Turk
Red-haired, cat-eyed, and, as thou wouldst have said,
With heart all wrung with rage. Bahrám Chúbína
Cried when he saw Bahrám: “Ne'er be it thine
To wed the dust!” then of that foul Turk asked:—
“O thou hell-visaged, banned from Paradise!
What man art thou? What is thy name and birth,
For she who bare thee will have cause to weep?”
He said: “A warlock I. I meddle not
With manhood and with manliness but help
My chief in battle when things reach a pass,
And make him dream of what will hearten him.
I gave thee that ill dream last night to bring
Ill on thy head, but I must seek for means
More potent* for my sorcery hath failed,
Ill-fortune hath recoiled upon my head,
And all my toil is wedded to the wind.

If I get quarter from thee thou hast gained
An all-accomplished friend.”

On hearing this

Bahrám Chúbína mused, his heart was troubled,
His visage wan. Anon he said: “This man
Might prove of service in the stress of fight,”
But said again: “What did king Sáwa profit
Through this dark-dealing warlock? All good things
Descend from God on fortune's favourites,”
Then bade cut off his head and robbed of life
His feckless form, which done Bahrám Chúbína
Stood up and said: “O just and upright Judge!
From Thee are greatness, victory, the Glory,
High place, the diadem of king of kings,
Distress and joy. Blest is the warrior
That followeth Thy way.”

The archscribe came,

And spake thus: “Valiant Farídún, Bahrám,
* And Núshírwán ne'er saw one like to thee,
O lusty paladin! Possessed art thou
Of lion's courage, counsel, and device.
May no calamity befall thy life.
Through thee the cities of Írán all live,
And all the paladins are but thy slaves.
Through thee the exalted throne hath been exalted,
And every liege escaped mishap. Thou art
A chieftain and a chieftain's son, and blest
Is she that brought forth such a child, for thou
Art glorious by birth and enterprise,
A king all absolute in Grace and wisdom.”
Then the Sháh's paladins and men of might
Dispersed themselves and left the scene of fight.